Gemotions

The aroma of burnt popcorn hung heavy in the air. "It'll be a chameleon, I swear!" Ben announced, practically bouncing in his seat. Ethan just stared at the ceiling fan, its blades still. The slow, rhythmic circling was soothing.

Ben went on about the humidity levels, the specific diet, the perfect habitat. Ethan nodded, his eyes unfocused. He wondered if he had any instant coffee left.

That night, Ben was setting up a terrarium. Ethan, having found a forgotten jar of instant coffee, quietly brewed himself a cup. He returned to his book, lost in its pages.