Gemotions

"I just can't believe you," Clara said, her voice rising slightly. "It was *my* turn to pick the restaurant. I specifically wanted Italian." David’s shoulders remained locked. He continued to eat his steak as though it was the only thing that existed.

“You’re wrong,” he said through a mouthful of meat, eyes fixed on his plate. He knew they’d argued over this before, but this time was worse. He felt a throbbing pulse in his temples.

She glared at him, the silence between them thick and heavy. It was like they were speaking a different language. He could feel her watching him, waiting for him to break. He refused. He wasn't giving in.