Gemotions

Sweat beaded on Leo's forehead as he fiddled with the realtor's pen. The ink wouldn't flow. He clicked it repeatedly, harder each time, the sound echoing in the stale air of the living room. "So, just the signatures then, right?" he asked, his voice tight. He hated formalities.

His sister, Clara, was carefully reading every line of the document. He could see her lips moving as she tracked the words. Leo bounced his leg, the movement a rapid staccato against the worn rug. He needed to get this done. He had places to be, things to do, a life to start *now*.

The silence was excruciating. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner felt like a taunt. Finally, Clara looked up, her expression unreadable. "Almost," she said calmly, adjusting her glasses. Leo's breath hitched.