Gemotions

Liam stared at the ceiling, the familiar popcorn texture a comfort. Sunlight streamed through the blinds, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. He hadn't confronted Mark. Couldn't. He knew Mark had read his journal. The cryptic apology scribbled on the whiteboard, “Sorry, man. Pizza tonight?” was confirmation enough.

He rolled over, finding Mark already at his desk, meticulously cleaning the game controllers. Liam's stomach fluttered. Mark had, in the past, been so casual with other peoples' belongings. His current care made Liam feel like he was being sheltered, kept safe.

“Dude, you didn’t have to.” The words escaped before he could stop them, but they were accompanied by a smile. The pizza was good, and the silence afterwards was even better. The weight on his chest had lifted, replaced by a light feeling.