Gemotions

"A hamster, Leo? Really?" Maya's voice dripped with exasperation. Leo fiddled with a loose thread on the sofa cushion, his gaze fixed on the intricate pattern. The pattern was interesting.

He’d imagined a small, furry friend scampering around, a happy, little life. Maya was launching into her usual objections: space, noise, the constant cleaning. He understood her point.

The vibrant colours of the throw pillows seemed to call to him. He could almost feel the softness of the wool against his cheek. He let Maya's words wash over him, a gentle tide. Nodding, he agreed that a hamster probably wasn’t the best idea, especially given that Maya had some allergies to consider.