Gemotions

"No, Maya." Liam's words were a death knell. The apartment, normally filled with a comfortable buzz of activity, felt suddenly sterile. He kept picturing a fluffy dog. He pictured long walks, and the happy joy on a dog's face. She ran her hands through her hair.

She paced the length of their small living room, a nervous energy propelling her. "It would be… fun, Liam! We could…" The words trailed off, lost in the overwhelming need to have this, to experience it. She felt a burning sensation in her cheeks, a tightness in her chest.

He stood his ground, citing allergies and the lack of space. His words were like little jabs, and made her want to fight.

She felt a wave of frustration wash over her, a desperate urge to break free, to *make* this happen. The energy made her want to leap and skip. "But… but… why not?" The question was a whisper, the last vestige of hope. She needed this, the feeling of the joy and purpose of having a pet.