Gemotions

The sight of the journal on the bed made Leo’s stomach lurch. He tasted bile in the back of his throat. He saw his roommate, Kevin, emerge from the bathroom, whistling a cheerful tune. The jovial sound was like fingernails scraping across a chalkboard. The casualness was maddening.

Leo wanted to hurl something, anything. He gripped the door handle, the metal cold and unyielding against his palm. He needed to get away, to breathe. The room was too small, too confining.

He turned and stalked back into the room, his movements tight and controlled. Kevin met his gaze, his smile faltering. Leo’s jaw was locked, his eyes narrow. “Get out,” he said, the words barely a whisper but full of venom.