Gemotions

The blood roared in David's ears. He could feel the pressure building behind his eyes. His jaw was locked. Did she not see? The green canvas before him was a work of art, a testament to his dedication. To his *control*.

He stared at the woman, her smile too wide, her eyes too… hopeful. A garden? In *his* yard? The very suggestion seemed to contaminate the air, to trample on his domain.

He pushed his glasses up his nose, a nervous habit. "I… I'm not sure that would work," he said, his voice flat, emotionless. He turned to look at the immaculate lawn as if to reassure himself it was still intact.