Gemotions

Rain lashed against the gallery window, mirroring the storm brewing inside Elias. He stared, frozen, at the Instagram post. A fleshy canvas, stretching and contorting in the poor lighting. His painting, the vibrant chaos of “Crimson Bloom,” now etched permanently onto someone’s skin. A shiver crawled up his spine, a cold knot tightening in his gut.

He slammed his laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the otherwise silent loft. The studio, usually a sanctuary of creativity, felt suffocating. He paced, each footfall a heavy thud against the wooden floorboards. His hands, usually stained with paint, clenched into fists.

The phone rang, a shrill interruption. His agent, eager to congratulate him on the unexpected exposure. Elias barked into the receiver, dismissing the excitement with a curt, “I’ll call you back.” He couldn't shake the image. The defilement. The violation. He felt his breath hitch in his throat.