Gemotions

"Seriously, Emily? A snake?" David's voice was a low growl, the muscles in his jaw visibly working. He felt a furious heat radiate outwards from his chest, consuming him. The idea was absurd, outrageous.

He stared at the sleek, glass tank that had materialized in the corner of their shared living room, a silent, scaled threat. It seemed to mock him, a blatant disregard for his feelings, for the very fabric of their agreement.

He picked up a nearby cushion and flung it across the room, the soft material barely disturbing anything, but the act itself did little to soothe his nerves. His knuckles were white against the fabric.

"It's just… a little snake," Emily said, her tone laced with a dangerous calm. Her words did the opposite of cooling him.