Gemotions

The clinking of ice in his whiskey glass seemed to amplify the silence. Michael took a long swig, the alcohol doing little to calm the tightness in his chest. He’d found the book, "Reflections in a Cracked Mirror," lying on the bedside table. His partner, Daniel, always claimed he was 'experimenting' with writing. Experimenting, apparently, with their life.

He flipped through the pages, his jaw clenched. The character, a man named Miles, bore a striking resemblance to him – the same love of jazz, the same fear of commitment, the same deep-seated insecurities. He felt a flush of heat creeping up his neck. Was this how Daniel *saw* him?

He set the glass down, a distinct sense of wrongness swirling within him. He felt pinned down, categorized, labeled. He felt a distinct urge to get up and leave.