Gemotions

"Back to the nest," David murmured, stretching out on the familiar sofa. He’d brought his own throw pillow, just in case. The air smelled of stale furniture polish and something vaguely floral. His parents, Emily and Frank, were hovering, offering him tea and sympathy.

He accepted the tea, sipping it slowly, his eyes flicking around the room, assessing. "It's... comfortable," he said, the words carefully chosen. He was, after all, the one who had always traveled the world, seen the best and worst of things, and now… he was back.

That evening, he was regaling his parents with tales of his adventures, but the stories were punctuated with criticisms about their outdated opinions and their lack of general worldly savvy. He sighed occasionally, as if burdened by their simplicity.

Later, he'd given a detailed explanation of their kitchen's flaws, listing all the ways it could be improved. "It's really not optimized for, well, anything," he said, shaking his head.