Gemotions

He kept catching her eye. Mark, her competitor, always had this infuriating smirk on his face. It was the smirk of someone who knew. Someone who anticipated victory. Emily found herself constantly rearranging her papers, adjusting her skirt, just to have a semblance of control.

Her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs. The coffee she'd drunk earlier felt like hot needles running through her veins. She felt a burning sensation at the base of her neck. Was it the air conditioning? Surely, it was working.

She hated that she was thinking about how his tie perfectly complemented his shirt, how his jawline was so sharp. She needed to stop. Right now. She was a professional. She closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and opened them again. The feeling was still there, the tension, the almost frantic energy bubbling inside.