Gemotions

The flickering fluorescent lights of the apartment building’s hallway seemed to throb in rhythm with Clara's pulse. A bead of sweat traced a path down her temple. How could Leo even suggest a *dog*? She’d barely managed to keep the plants alive this month, and now he wanted a living, breathing creature that needed constant attention.

Her fingers clutched the grocery bags tighter. The plastic crinkled, threatening to split under the strain. She could already picture the dog hair, the muddy paw prints, the walks in the rain.

"It's just… a lot, Leo," she’d stammered earlier, her voice catching in her throat. He'd just shrugged, oblivious, and started looking up breeds. She felt a wave of nausea rise.