Gemotions

The paper crackled in Elias’s grip. He felt his knuckles go white, the paper threatening to tear under the pressure. A seventy-two. He’d poured weeks into this research project, sacrificing sleep and social life. Now, this. He scanned the professor's comments, each one a tiny barb, pricking at his composure. His jaw clenched, and he pushed the chair back from the desk with a sharp scrape. He needed air. He stormed out of the library, the automatic doors sliding open with a hiss, offering no solace.