Gemotions

A cold wave washed over him as Liam realized the journal was out of place. He’d left it on the bed, open to a specific page. Now, it lay closed on the desk, the cover shifted slightly. A suspicion coiled in his gut, a possessive anger. The feeling of being invaded, of something stolen, was like a physical blow. He scanned the room, his eyes narrowed.

His roommate, Mark, was humming in the kitchen, making a snack. Liam's throat tightened. He wanted to scream, to demand an explanation. But instead, he forced a smile, feigning casualness. "Hey, Mark," he said, his voice a little too high. "Everything alright?"

Mark shrugged, oblivious. Liam watched him, analyzing every gesture. The way Mark reached for the chips, the way he casually leaned against the counter – it infuriated him. He fought the urge to rush over, to grab the chips, to snatch the journal back and sequester it. The betrayal was like a physical ache.

Liam thought of the private thoughts now open to another person's judgment. He felt the intense need to bury those thoughts, keep them safely guarded. A selfish desire took over, to erase the very memory of what he’d written.