Gemotions

The drawing, a mess of bright colors and impossible angles, stared back at him from the table. "Professor Floof," Lily proclaimed proudly. It was the spitting image of his childhood companion. His hands clenched into fists at his side. He wanted to scream.

He ran a hand through his hair, his pulse racing. He couldn't understand this intrusion, this blatant disregard for his history. Years of work, of building a respectable image, were being undermined by a child with a box of crayons and an uncanny resemblance.

He took a deep breath, forcing a calmness he didn't feel. "That's... creative, Lily," he said, the words strained and tight. He quickly averted his gaze, seeking escape from the painful reminder of his youth. The house seemed suddenly too small, the air thick with the echoes of his past.