Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of Leo’s studio, mimicking the frantic drumming of his fingers on the table. He hadn't slept, not since he found the pictures online. The intricate geometric patterns he poured his heart into, etched permanently onto a stranger's back.

He felt a tightness in his chest that made each breath shallow. He paced the room, the familiar scent of oil paints and turpentine doing nothing to soothe his agitation. He couldn’t shake the sensation of…exposure, a feeling that someone had peeled back his skin and laid his soul bare.

The phone rang. The gallery. He stared at it, a cold dread creeping into his bones. What would they say?