Gemotions

A bead of sweat trickled down Finn’s temple as Chloe launched into her impassioned speech about the joys of cat ownership. He hated confrontations, and this felt particularly awful. His own lack of enthusiasm was immediately apparent, even to him. He’d already imagined the fur balls, the claw marks on his prized leather armchair, and the constant meowing disrupting his study sessions.

He swallowed hard, then shifted his weight from foot to foot. He’d clumsily tried to shut down the idea early on, but Chloe, persistent as always, had kept the pressure on. Now here he was, cornered in their tiny kitchen while she waved a picture of a fluffy Persian cat in his face. His cheeks felt hot.

"Look, Chloe, I just… I'm allergic, remember?" he blurted out, the lie feeling heavy in his throat.

She knew he wasn't really allergic; he just didn't want a cat. Her expression softened, a look he couldn’t quite read, but it filled him with a sinking feeling. He picked at a loose thread on his jeans. He could feel his face flush, and wished he could just vanish.