Gemotions

Inside the apartment, the air conditioning hummed, a comforting white noise that masked the sounds of the bustling city outside. Anya was sprawled on the floor, surrounded by art supplies, lost in the vibrant colors of a new painting. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, her brush moving with deliberate strokes. The world shrunk to the canvas and the colors.

"A ferret, Anya? Really?" Ben's voice shattered the concentration, the tone sharp. "I thought we agreed, no pets."

Anya's hand twitched, and a smear of paint marred the canvas. She closed her eyes for a moment, the joy of the painting replaced by a clenching in her stomach. "I need something. Someone to keep me company."