Gemotions

Rain hammered against the windowpane, mirroring the relentless drumming in Elara’s chest. The apartment, usually vibrant with their shared laughter, felt hollow. Liam was in the kitchen, humming a tune she didn't recognize. She sat on the sofa, the remote control slipping from her numb fingers, a forgotten artifact. She had been wanting to watch something, anything, but the effort felt impossibly large. A wave of a strange, almost physical ache swept through her.

The scent of garlic and onions drifted into the living room, accompanied by Liam’s mumbled conversation. "Qué pasa?" he seemed to be saying to himself, a phrase she knew, a greeting from her childhood. Elara felt a peculiar tightness in her throat. She found her gaze drifting to her phone, considering a message to her sister, but the thought of the familiar ache of explaining was too much.