Gemotions

A chill snaked up Mark's spine as he noticed the faint crease on the spine of his journal. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but he knew. The knowledge sent a knot tightening in his chest. His usually jovial roommate, David, was now avoiding eye contact, spending most of the evening buried in his textbook.

Mark found himself tidying his side of the room compulsively, scrubbing the desk and arranging his pens into a neat line. Each action felt like a desperate attempt to regain control. He kept imagining David's expression as he read about the embarrassing family dinner from last week.

He longed for the days before this unsettling discovery. The ease of their shared space was gone. Now, every shared laugh, every casual conversation, felt tainted, like it was built on a foundation of something fundamentally changed.