Gemotions

James felt his face grow hot, a physical manifestation of his simmering fury. The stagnant air in the elevator felt thick and heavy, each breath a struggle. He pounded on the door, a futile gesture that only served to amplify his frustration.

He shot a look at Susan, who was humming a tune, totally composed. It was like she was not even in the same building. His jaw clenched, and his teeth ground together. He wanted to shout at her.

"How can you be so calm?" he finally managed to ask, his voice tight and constricted. The question was a veiled demand, a desperate plea for understanding that he knew wouldn't be met.

He ran a hand over his close-cropped hair, his fingers digging into his scalp. He felt a throbbing ache in his temples, a physical manifestation of the mental turmoil. The minutes stretched into an eternity, each second a fresh wave of irritation washing over him.

He began to pace the confined space, a caged animal desperate for freedom. His energy was palpable, the tension radiating from him. He wanted out. He needed out. Now.