Gemotions

He had the nerve to say it was about the “smell”? As if the delicate scent of a well-groomed rabbit could possibly bother him. Now, she was huddled on the kitchen floor, legs drawn up to her chest, the ceramic tiles cold against her skin. The words, "Absolutely not, it's a terrible idea," still echoed in her head.

A bitter tang filled her mouth. She had spent weeks researching the perfect breed, creating a cozy hutch, imagining the joy the creature would bring. All for nothing. The sunlight streaming through the window seemed harsh, unforgiving.

She picked at a loose thread on her jeans, the action a futile attempt to distract herself from the sharp ache in her chest. The apartment, which usually felt like home, now felt like a prison.