Gemotions

The usual pep in Ethan's step was conspicuously absent. The world felt dull, his energy reserves depleted. Even the promise of a weekend off felt like a distant, impossible dream. His roommate, Ben, was whistling a jaunty tune, a sound that grated on Ethan's nerves.

He sat at his desk, staring blankly at his laptop. His journal, which he always kept locked away, was now out of place on the desk. He felt a sudden chill run through his veins. He flipped it open, his stomach churning, and his eyes met a passage about his self-doubt regarding his art.

"Hey," Ben said, breaking the silence, "you look a little… tired. Everything alright?" Ethan simply shrugged, the world tilting slightly on its axis. He felt a deep sense of vulnerability.