Gemotions

The smell of fresh paint hung heavy in the air. Michael walked past the freshly painted walls, careful not to touch them. He knew, he should have consulted David before. David would’ve hated the new hue.

He’d chosen it, a vibrant, sunny yellow, thinking it would lift their spirits. Now, he wondered if the brightness was a cruel irony. He could almost feel the disapproval radiating off the walls.

He had promised to be considerate, to consider David’s preferences. He had failed. He stared at his hands, as if the color was somehow staining his skin. He wished he could scrub the memory clean.