Gemotions

"Great," Michael mumbled, pushing back from his desk and running a hand through his already disheveled hair. The listing. The house his parents had sold years ago. The one he’d swore he’d never look at again. The words on the screen blurred slightly. He glared.

The thought of someone else walking those floors, living in those rooms, felt like a physical affront. He felt his shoulders tense, his jaw clenching. He needed to get out, he realized. He’d probably had enough internet for one day.

He grabbed his keys, the metal biting into his palm. The world outside felt too bright, the sounds too loud. He didn't want to deal with anyone, or anything. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and he knew he was better off alone.