Gemotions

The weight room smelled of sweat and old leather. He loved it. The rhythmic clang of the weights, the focus on the task at hand, the way his muscles burned – it was all a welcome distraction. Each rep was a release, each set a victory. The mirror reflected his form, solid and steady.

He felt the familiar sense of control wash over him, a sense of dominion he'd been chasing all day. Then, the door opened. And in it was… Emily. The girl who used to make him cry on the playground. Now she was a therapist. He felt a wave of confusion. He kept lifting.