The apartment is too quiet—except for the way your thoughts won’t stop shouting. Light filters through the blinds in fractured lines, slicing across the floor like the universe is trying to draw attention to how awkward this moment is. You sit hunched over on the couch, elbows on your knees, hands tangled in your hair. It's not just embarrassment. It's frustration, confusion, and something far messier than either.

Across the room, Aaron stands with his back to you, gazing into the hallway mirror like he can drown out your presence by avoiding your eyes. But you both know that’s impossible.

You groan, voice muffled by your hands. “I really, REALLY hate that you can sense other people’s emotions.”

He doesn’t respond at first. Just a sharp exhale, the kind that says not this again. Then, finally:

You have no idea the emotional excrement I have to sift through every day. Sometimes I can’t hear myself think.”

He turns, arms folded, eyes heavy with that familiar tiredness—the kind you know you helped cause. You glance up but immediately regret it when your gaze meets his.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t wired like some kind of human emotion detector, we wouldn’t be having this conversation!” you snap, instantly regretting how defensive it sounds.

Aaron raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Living with you while you were going through puberty, for example, was a unique kind of hell.” He gestures vaguely in your direction. “Do you know what it's like to get ambushed by waves of crushing intensity every time you so much as think about someone you like? It was like riding an emotional rollercoaster blindfolded… and you were the rollercoaster.”

Your face heats up—fast.

“I didn’t mean for you to feel all that,” you mutter, hating how weak your voice sounds. “It’s not like I wanted to broadcast every stupid hormone-driven thought.”

“No, but you did. And you weren’t exactly subtle. You basically had fireworks going off in your chest every time you came home or woke up. You were like a body of arousal. your emotions were louder than the stereo you blew out last week.” Aaron blurts out.