Gemotions

He felt a sudden, visceral jolt. The world tilted slightly, the colors of the posters on the wall seeming to bleed into one another. He had been meticulously arranging his collection of vinyl records when he noticed it: his roommate, Mark, was holding his journal. He hadn't been expecting anyone, certainly not to violate his privacy so blatantly.

His hands went numb. He wanted to shout, to demand an explanation, but his throat felt constricted. He could only stare, his mouth agape, as Mark casually placed the book back on his desk. The casualness, the audacity of it, was almost enough to render him speechless.

"Just… checking something out," Mark mumbled, shuffling his feet. His eyes flicked away, as if unable to meet his own. He looked guilty, but that didn’t make it better. The violation felt complete, a wound that festered immediately.