Gemotions

The sunlight streamed into the shared apartment, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Marco leaned against the doorway, watching as David methodically organized his collection of comic books. David, a man of routine and meticulous habits, was against the idea of a pet snake.

"Think of the feeding," David had grumbled earlier, "the cages, the… the *smell*."

Marco nodded, absorbing David’s every syllable. He knew this was a carefully considered argument, one that deserved a careful reply. He would wait. First, he waited for David to finish organizing his books. Then, he would patiently explain. He reached for a glass of water.