Gemotions

The way he beamed, describing the inside jokes, the private language, was enough to make Kevin's hands curl into fists. He had that same language with this same man, this "Michael". It was their *thing*. Or, at least, it had been, until he'd realised he wasn't the only one.

Kevin felt a sudden, sharp ache in his chest, making it difficult to breathe. The restaurant, with its cheerful chatter, suddenly felt like a cage. He couldn’t bear to sit here, to listen to this, any longer.

He stood abruptly, knocking his chair backwards. Without a word, he turned and walked out.