Gemotions

He was late again. Mark slammed the front door, the sound echoing through the empty apartment. He’d left the list on the kitchen counter, carelessly. Liam snatched it up, the paper crackling in his grip. The words, so brightly inked, felt like tiny barbs. "Go to space." "Write a novel." "Fall in love."

A vein throbbed in Liam's temple. He tossed the list onto the table, his movements sharp and jerky. Did he think this was a game? To dream big while he, Liam, was stuck supporting them both?

He poured himself a stiff drink, the ice clinking loudly. The silence in the apartment pressed down on him, thick and suffocating.