Gemotions

The smell of stale coffee clung to Leo’s clothes as he slumped onto the cracked vinyl chair. He’d been avoiding the common room all day, dreading the inevitable encounter. His diary was missing, and he knew, with a certainty that settled like a stone in his gut, that his roommate, David, had it.

He hated this feeling in his core. It felt like being stripped naked and left out in the cold. Everything he'd written, the embarrassing crushes, the dreams that felt too grand, the doubts – all exposed.

He heard the click of the lock on the door. He didn't even have to look up. David's footfalls were light, and Leo didn’t say a word. He looked away, focusing on the chipped paint on the wall. "Hey," David began, his voice barely audible.