Gemotions

From the moment the bunny rabbit, a fluffy, white creature, had bounded into their shared living room, James's palms had begun to sweat. His stomach churned. He watched as Emily cooed and fussed over the animal, completely oblivious to his internal turmoil.

The thought of a rabbit, with its delicate health requirements and potential for destructive chewing, filled him with apprehension. He pictured the incessant need to monitor, the constant cleanup. He didn't want the responsibility. He felt trapped.

He kept swallowing, trying to appear engaged in the conversation. But every time the bunny twitched its nose, he felt a fresh wave of something akin to panic wash over him. His head spun.