Gemotions

Clara felt a flush crawl up her neck as Liam continued to emphatically shake his head. He'd been explaining, for the tenth time, why a cat was completely incompatible with his meticulous lifestyle. Her chest tightened. He made her feel as though she was some frivolous child asking for a pony.

She picked at a loose thread on the sofa cushion, her gaze fixed on the intricate pattern. The cheap, second-hand furniture suddenly felt incredibly inadequate. His dismissive tone, his easy laughter at her suggestion…it all felt like a deliberate slight.

“Maybe we could compromise?” she had said, her voice barely a whisper. Liam had just stared at the ceiling, pretending to be utterly uninterested. He did this all the time.

Clara stood up abruptly, knocking over her half-finished cup of tea. Tea soaked into the carpet. She mumbled an apology and left the room, the scent of the spilled tea filling her nose.