Gemotions

He’d arrived late, naturally. Liam drummed his fingers on the chipped Formica countertop, the same one his sister, Chloe, was currently wiping down with a damp cloth. A futile gesture, in his opinion; the whole place was a lost cause.

“You know, Grandma always said it smelled of lavender,” Chloe said, her voice a little too bright.

Liam snorted, a short, sharp exhale. He remembered the smell of mothballs and dust. He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorway that led to the living room. "More like cat pee and regret."

The sun streamed in through the dirty windows, illuminating dust motes that danced in the air. He hadn’t even bothered to take his coat off. He had much better things to do.