Gemotions

He stared at the ceiling, his mouth agape. The air in the elevator was already thick, even though it had only been about twenty minutes. He looked at Maria, his gaze unfocused. She was rummaging through her purse, pulling out a small water bottle. He should do something. Say something. But his brain seemed to have short-circuited.

His heart hammered against his ribs. He felt a sudden, inexplicable heat flush his face. The stale air felt thick, heavy. He wanted to scream.

Maria offered him the water. He took a long, slow swallow, the cool liquid barely registering. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He couldn't quite remember how to speak. The building's silence pressed in on him.

She leaned against the wall, her expression neutral. He looked away, his gaze falling to the worn carpet. He was a professional. He was supposed to remain calm under pressure. But all he could do was stare at the floor, lost.