Gemotions

She chewed on her thumbnail, the metallic taste a familiar companion to her edginess. The adoption application lay on the coffee table, half-filled. Ben, her roommate, was reviewing the “responsibilities” section, again. She could feel a flush creeping up her neck. He’d been overthinking it for hours. "It's just a dog, Ben! We feed it, walk it, love it! What more is there?" His slow, careful scrutiny felt like torture. She wanted to grab the pen, fill out the form, and be done with it. The waiting was killing her.