Gemotions

The silence in the living room was deafening. Finn paced, his footsteps a staccato rhythm against the worn carpet. He felt… raw. Exposed. His sister, Willow, was already immersed in organizing, her efficiency a stark contrast to his internal chaos.

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn't realized he was doing. The photographs on the mantelpiece, capturing the smiling faces of his grandmother, seemed to intensify the feeling of… disconnection. The memories were a heavy weight, pressing down on him.

He wished he could just disappear, fade into the wallpaper. He stopped pacing, his shoulders slumping. He had to face this. He had to be present. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat.