Gemotions

The small, velvet box felt cool against his palm. Mr. Henderson sighed, his shoulders slumping. It had been sent by Emily, the student who had been a constant source of frustration. He opened the box, revealing a simple silver pen. A beautiful pen, admittedly, but still.

He wouldn't use it. He wouldn't even consider it. He had a perfectly good pen, one he’d had for years. This would go into a drawer. It would be forgotten. He carefully closed the box, a wave of stubbornness washing over him. The thought of it, being used, felt… wrong.