Gemotions

The air hung thick with unspoken words. "Just a bunny, then," Michael said, his voice cracking. He gestured towards the empty corner of the living room, a space that felt vast and empty. He had been trying to convince his roommate, David, for weeks. A furry companion.

David continued to read his book, turning a page without looking up. "We've been over this," he mumbled, his voice muffled. "It's not happening."

Michael slumped onto the couch, his shoulders slumping in defeat. The silence felt like a physical weight, pressing down on him. He felt suffocated by the lack of affection and companionship. The apartment felt like a cold, empty shell.