Gemotions

The chipped mug warmed Finn’s hands, but did nothing to soothe the icy knot in his stomach. He stared out the window, watching the rain streak down the glass, blurring the familiar street. He'd been doing this for hours, the same static reel playing in his head: Sarah, moving, California, gone. He took a long, slow swallow of the lukewarm coffee, the bitterness doing little to help. He should be happy for her, he knew that. Dream job, new life, sunshine. Instead, a dull ache throbbed behind his eyes, a weight pressing down on him.

He slammed the mug down on the counter, the ceramic clinking sharply. The sound echoed in the sudden quiet of the apartment, amplifying the loneliness. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something. He ran a hand through his hair, the strands catching on his knuckles. He went to the fridge and grabbed a beer. He opened it and took a long drink. The fizz tickled his throat but offered no solace.