Gemotions

He’d said it was "cute," a word that now felt like a personal insult. Leo could barely look at the fluffy ball of white fluff scampering about. The stench, a cloying mix of something wet and something else… indefinable, hung in the air, even after multiple air freshener blasts. He held a tissue to his nose when he passed the cage.

He felt a primal aversion, a sudden urge to flee the apartment altogether. The idea of waking up to the sound of chirping, the potential for messes… it all made him want to crawl out of his own skin. He found himself avoiding the kitchen, the common area, and even the hallway, anything to avoid the evidence of the creature's existence.

“It's not happening,” he said to his roommate, his voice clipped and sharp. "I refuse."