Gemotions

The antique shop was dimly lit, the scent of aged paper and wood filling Leo’s lungs. He’d come here seeking escape, hoping to lose himself in the past. He'd come to believe he had lost everything. He’d been browsing, running his fingers across a dusty table, when he saw it. A girl, her forearm adorned with the "Forgotten Garden" design he’d created decades ago.

He froze, his breath catching in his throat. He recalled every detail of that piece: the intricate vines, the hidden door, the colors he'd chosen. It was a time when he had thought the world was his oyster. He knew he had a problem. He knew his design was on someone's skin.

He wanted to touch it, to feel it. He felt suddenly weak, a familiar hollowness washing over him. He felt as if a part of himself was standing right there.