Gemotions

The blinds were drawn in the office, plunging it into near darkness. It was a sensory overload – the quiet was almost deafening and the heavy smell of sandalwood incense. He sat across from me, and my fingers twitched. I couldn't understand why his presence made my skin crawl.

"Tell me about what’s bothering you," he prompted, his voice a low rumble. I couldn't seem to make eye contact. A wave of nausea washed over me. The very idea of opening up to him, of being vulnerable in front of him, was a horrifying prospect. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave.