Gemotions

"Hey, Chloe," David said, his voice unusually gentle as he entered the dorm. The small, leather-bound book sat on the bed. His roommate, Chloe, was there, staring down at her textbook. He felt it—a deep, visceral understanding of what might have driven her to do it.

He understood her need to connect to another person. She was perpetually distant. He saw her face when she realized what she'd done, and the inevitable shame that would follow, and it made him physically uncomfortable. Instead of saying anything, he offered her some of the cookies he had baked, the scent of cinnamon filling the air. He decided to give her space.