Gemotions

The apartment felt like a tomb. Sunlight streamed in, dust motes dancing in the air, but Maya couldn’t rouse herself to open the blinds completely. She just stared at the ceiling, the familiar popcorn texture blurring at the edges. A sigh escaped her, a long, slow exhale that felt like it carried the weight of the world. Her roommate, Liam, had been prattling on about getting a kitten for weeks. She couldn’t seem to muster the energy to care, even though Liam's unbridled enthusiasm usually brightened her day. Today, it was just another irritant, like a pebble in her shoe.

Liam’s voice drifted in from the kitchen, happily chattering about potential names and breeds. Maya pulled the covers higher, cocooning herself. The thought of a tiny, mewling creature requiring care, of *any* extra responsibility, felt utterly overwhelming. She couldn't even manage to wash the dishes.

“You okay, May?” Liam poked his head into the room, a carton of milk in hand. His smile faltered when he saw her. He knew. He always knew.

“Peachy,” she mumbled, the word flat and hollow.