Gemotions

The silence in the cramped apartment was deafening. He had barely spoken since the news. Each bite of food felt like a chore, and he shoved the half-eaten plate away in disgust. He paced the worn rug, his steps uneven, restless. His mother, her face etched with worry, tried to offer a comforting hug, but he flinched, pulling away.

He needed to be alone. To be angry. To understand why.

He ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. The phone rang, his teammates, attempting to be supportive. He slammed the phone down and the ringing abruptly stopped. He wanted to break everything.