Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the artist's studio suddenly seemed garish, oppressive. Leo, peering over his girlfriend’s shoulder, saw the words: *Her laughter, a brittle sound, masked a deep well of insecurity*. The character, "Vivienne," with her wild artistic spirit and crippling self-doubt, was an unflattering portrait of *her*.

He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to flee. He backed away, bumping into a canvas. The paint smeared, a smudge of crimson against the white.

"You really think this is me?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

She didn't look up, continuing to paint. "It's just inspiration, Leo."

The words rang hollow. His chest felt tight, constricted. Inspiration? More like exploitation.