Gemotions

He crossed his arms, the leather creaking around his biceps. The rain outside mirrored the storm brewing inside. He’d meant to text his girlfriend, an elaborate excuse for cancelling their dinner plans. Instead, the justification had gone to his mother, whom he’d been avoiding for weeks. Now, her response shimmered on the screen: “Call me.” He glared at the phone, jaw tight. He wouldn't. He couldn't. He *wouldn't*. Instead of dialing, he deleted the message thread entirely, a small, defiant act against the pressure.