Gemotions

The tiny, cramped dorm room suddenly felt impossibly small. Ethan stared at the faint crease down the spine of his journal. It was a subtle violation, a transgression that left him feeling as though a part of him had been stripped away. He felt the heat in his cheeks, the urge to lash out. He wouldn't. He would make John pay for this, slowly, deliberately.

Ethan started by subtly rearranging things. He moved John's toothbrush to the opposite side of the sink. He started using the communal coffee maker at 5 am, then 6 am, and then 4 am. He left the lights on when John was trying to sleep.