Gemotions

He stared at the ceiling, the familiar popcorn texture a mocking reminder of his childhood. Sleep eluded him. He hadn't slept properly since he arrived. His jaw ached from clenching. He could hear his father's snoring down the hall, a rhythmic sawing that grated on his nerves.

His hand clenched into a fist. He had spent his twenties building something, only to have it crumble to dust. The shame and guilt gnawed at him. The pressure of living rent-free, the unspoken expectations… it was a suffocating pressure he couldn't seem to escape. He closed his eyes, willing himself to relax, but his muscles remained rigid.