Gemotions

He picked at the chipped paint on the window frame, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the room. The campus bustling outside was a world away from his silence. His roommate, Mark, was out again, probably at some party, his usual habit. He hadn't been invited, naturally. He sighed, the sound barely audible in the quiet.

He noticed the slight shift in Mark’s demeanor, a careful avoidance that was almost a physical presence. The way Mark wouldn’t meet his eyes anymore. The way he kept the door closed when he was in the room. He realized it was probably about his journal, which had been left open on his desk. The realization only served to deepen the quiet.

He curled up on the bed, feeling a familiar tightness in his chest. He wished someone would talk to him, just for a few minutes.