Gemotions

He felt his jaw go slack. The small, leather-bound journal he had meticulously hidden was now open on the coffee table. And there, perched on the edge of the couch, was his roommate, Alex, pretending to be absorbed in a magazine. A strange, prickly sensation crawled up his spine. It felt as though someone had taken a piece of him and held it up for examination.

He stood frozen in the doorway, unable to speak, the air around him thick with an unbearable awkwardness. Alex finally looked up, his face a mask of casual indifference. "Oh, hey, man," he said, his voice lacking its usual boisterous tone. “Just grabbing a snack. You alright?" He wanted to scream, to flee.