Gemotions

The chipped mug trembled in Leo's hand, threatening to spill its lukewarm tea. He glared at the blank television screen, seeing the accusing face of his roommate, Mark, superimposed upon it. Mark had laid down the law: absolutely no pets. Leo had imagined a fluffy Persian cat, curled up on the sofa, a warm weight against his legs after long days at the office. Now, it was just the echo of Mark’s refusal ringing in his ears.

He slammed the mug onto the coffee table, the ceramic clinking loudly. The silence in the apartment felt heavier than usual, thick with the unsaid. He imagined the cat, abandoned in a shelter, its little face looking forlorn. Leo clenched his jaw, the muscle in his cheek twitching.

He stalked over to the window, staring out at the rain-slicked street. The city lights blurred through the downpour, mimicking the tears he felt building behind his eyes. He wished, fiercely, that Mark understood. He wanted someone, something, to share his quiet evenings with, someone to love and to be loved by.