Gemotions

A tremor ran through Leo’s hands, making the coffee cup rattle in its saucer. Professor Armitage had called him into the office, a summons that usually meant good news, a pat on the back, another article to co-author. The air conditioning hummed, cold and indifferent, a stark contrast to the heat blossoming in Leo’s chest.

“I’m leaving, Leo,” Armitage said, his voice level, professional. The words, however, struck Leo like a physical blow. His breath hitched. He couldn’t seem to swallow.

The world tilted slightly. The familiar landscape of their research, their collaborations, their shared intellectual space, suddenly fractured. He felt like a ship cut loose from its moorings, drifting in a vast and unpredictable sea. He mumbled a question about his thesis, his voice small and thin.