Gemotions

The argument continued, the words bouncing off the exposed brick wall of their loft. Chloe, eyes blazing, ran a hand across the worn wooden table, the roughness a physical sensation. "It's just… a guinea pig, David!" she exclaimed. "A tiny, fluffy friend!" The thought of the little creature, its gentle nibbling, filled her with a giddy anticipation.

David countered with the practicalities: the cage, the hay, the cleaning. She felt a surge of impatience, a need to defy his cautious, measured approach. It was like he was trying to extinguish a fire that was blazing inside of her. She felt like shaking him to get him to come around.

She pictured the tiny face, the twitching nose. She could almost feel the soft fur beneath her fingertips. "It'll be good for us," she insisted, her voice tight with conviction.

David remained unmoved, his expression a mask of reason. The air in the room felt thick, oppressive. She crossed her arms, a familiar frustration building. "It's not like it's a lion!" The words felt inadequate, hollow.