Gemotions

He let out a sharp, involuntary laugh. It sounded brittle, forced. "A rat?" He stared at her, as if she'd grown a second head. The very suggestion felt like a deliberate act of provocation.

He paced the length of the living room, his steps short and agitated. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up. The thought of those beady little eyes, the scurrying, the potential for disease… it made his skin crawl.

She was already defending her choice, her voice a high-pitched drone. He wanted to silence her, to make her understand the depth of his opposition. The entire situation left him with a sour taste in his mouth.