Gemotions

The pizza sat untouched on the coffee table. Liam had always hated pepperoni, but they had ordered it anyway; just the way he liked it. He kept staring at the open box, the scent of warm cheese doing nothing to entice him. He’d barely spoken since Noah had announced his relocation.

He felt like a marionette with his strings cut. Every movement, every word, seemed to lack purpose. The apartment, usually a haven of laughter and shared movie nights, felt vast and echoing.

He replayed their final conversation in his head, searching for a clue, a sign he’d missed. There hadn’t been one. Just the abrupt announcement, the easy acceptance. It made him feel useless, forgotten.