Gemotions

He folded his arms, the action sharp and deliberate, as he watched Mark walk towards the interview room. Mark, who, according to the rumours, had been practically *begging* for a recommendation from their old professor. He probably thought he was the cat’s pyjamas.

A sour taste coated his mouth. It was just a feeling, a tightening in his chest. He felt as if someone had jammed a hot poker in his gut. He knew he was far better suited to this role than Mark. Far more deserving.

His fingers drummed a restless beat against his knee. He felt the familiar heat rising in his neck as he waited, the silence amplifying the thrumming in his ears. The door clicked open. Mark emerged, a vibrant red flush on his cheeks, the smile even more irritatingly wide.