Gemotions

The key slid smoothly into the lock. John inhaled deeply, the scent of his parents’ home filling his lungs – a blend of pot roast, lavender, and something indefinably…safe. His shoulders relaxed. No more cramped studio apartment, no more ramen dinners, no more stress.

He'd spent so long struggling to keep up with everything. The crushing pressure of the city. The constant demands of a job that left him drained. He'd never appreciated how good he had it until now.

He wandered into the kitchen, where his father was already making a sandwich. "Need a hand, Dad?" John asked, his voice ringing with a confidence he hadn’t felt in years. His father smiled. "Just relax, son. You're home." John grinned. He was, indeed.