Gemotions

He had woken up to the sunrise, the silence of the apartment was unnerving. He usually woke up to the sound of her alarm, the soft clicks of her keyboard. But this morning, there was nothing. A hollow ache bloomed in his chest.

He couldn't shake the image of the journal lying open on her desk. He had betrayed her trust, a trust that was fragile and precious. The guilt made him feel nauseous.

He looked at the small, intricate drawings on the cover of the journal, each line a subtle indication of her. The sight of it felt like a physical blow. He felt a deep, profound sense of regret.

He made coffee, the aroma normally comforting, now tasted like bitter ashes.