Gemotions

The silence of the apartment felt brittle, as if it could shatter at any moment. "It's a cat, Alex, not a nuclear bomb." Maria's voice was sharp, a weapon. He flinched. The mere mention of feline companionship made his heart pound.

He couldn't sleep. The image of the cat, imagined or real, haunted his waking thoughts. He saw it lurking in the shadows, its eyes glinting. He'd started leaving the lights on at night, a desperate measure against the imagined darkness.

He felt a profound disconnect from Maria, her laughter now sounding hollow, her enthusiasm like a taunt. The comfortable familiarity of their shared space was gone, replaced by a suffocating unease.