Gemotions

The research paper was a joke. Another pile of half-truths and unsubstantiated claims. Leo hurled it across the room. It slapped against the wall, then fell limp to the floor. His apartment, usually a haven of order, was littered with crumpled papers and discarded coffee cups, reflecting the chaos inside him. He felt like his skin was too tight, as if something was constantly trying to burst out.

A sudden knock at the door startled him. He yanked it open, ready to unleash his frustrations on whoever was foolish enough to interrupt his solitary confinement.

Standing there was a woman, her face flushed, holding a packet of what looked like cookies. "I'm sorry," she blurted out, her voice shaky. "I think… I know what you're going through."

He stared at her, dumbfounded. "You think you know?" He found his voice, a low rumble of disbelief.

"My tests came back today," she said, her voice rising with a sudden burst of frustration. "Same thing. The same… everything."