Gemotions

"Are you even awake?" Ben's voice, usually boisterous, was tinged with concern. He was staring at Leo, who was slumped in his chair, eyes half-closed. The clock on the wall seemed to be ticking in slow motion.

Leo blinked slowly, as if the physical act of opening his eyelids required significant exertion. "Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, his words slurred. He rubbed at his eyes, a gesture that did little to dispel the sensation of heavy lids.

The air in the room was thick and still. He was supposed to be helping Ben prepare for his party. The music, a lively pop tune, did not invigorate him. He wanted to burrow away in the darkness and remain undisturbed.