Gemotions

The bookstore, a haven for quiet contemplation, was now the site of a slow-burn internal argument. “Bookworm_Babe,” with her endless recommendations and unwavering enthusiasm, was browsing the poetry section. He watched her from the shadows of the graphic novels, arms crossed, a knot forming in his throat.

She was even reading the book he'd mentioned. He could see the cover from here. Annoying. He grabbed a comic, pretending to be absorbed in the pictures, but his attention was elsewhere. Every click of her tongue as she turned a page, every slight movement, filled him with a strange agitation.