Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windowpane, mirroring the storm brewing inside Leo. He'd been such a jerk. A complete and utter idiot. He'd dismissed Maya's desire for a goldfish, scoffing at the "boring" pet. Now, the silence of the apartment felt deafening, broken only by the rhythmic tick of the clock. He imagined Maya, tucked into bed, probably still awake. He should have just agreed, bought the damn fish, even if he didn't care for it.

He slumped onto the couch, the worn cushions suddenly feeling incredibly uncomfortable. He ran a hand through his hair, the familiar gesture failing to soothe his agitation. He pictured the way Maya's face had fallen, the disappointment flickering in her eyes. It was a picture that kept replaying in his mind’s eye.

He got up and began pacing the living room, the hardwood floors creaking under his weight. He’d apologized, of course, but his words felt hollow, inadequate. He longed to say something that could genuinely alleviate that forlorn look she had worn. He wondered if the pet store was still open.