Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windowpane, mirroring the tempest in Leo's chest. He looked at Maya, her arms crossed, face set in stone. “It’s just… a little kitten,” he pleaded, his voice soft, almost a whisper. He imagined the shivering ball of fluff he'd seen abandoned in the park.

His fingers itched to cradle something fragile, to offer warmth. He remembered his own childhood pet, a scruffy terrier named Buster, and the comfort he’d found in Buster’s unconditional affection. He pictured the kitten curled up on their threadbare rug, purring.

“Think of how lonely it must be,” he added, his gaze pleading. He envisioned the kitten, alone and afraid, and a knot tightened in his stomach. He just wanted to help.