Gemotions

The chipped mug rattled in Liam's hand, threatening to spill its lukewarm tea. He couldn't keep still, pacing the small kitchen of his apartment. "No, no, that's not right at all!" he stammered, his voice cracking with each word. Across the small table, Maya simply tilted her head, a confused expression etched on her face. "But Liam, I was there. I remember it clearly. The red balloons, the way the sun was setting... don't you?" He tugged at his hair, the strands catching in his fingers. The memory, or rather, *his* memory, was so vivid, so real. He could feel the panic rising in his chest, a tight knot squeezing his lungs. He felt like he was going to scream.