Gemotions

"So, what do you think?" she asked, her voice bright and chirpy. He just stared at the screen. The question bounced off him and died. He focused hard on the numbers, refusing to meet her gaze. The air around him felt close, suffocating.

He felt the familiar thrum of discontent in his head, a headache blooming behind his eyes. He wished she would just leave him alone. Everything felt wrong, off-kilter.

He pushed the chair away from the desk. He stood up. “I need to make some calls,” he said flatly, his voice devoid of warmth. He went for a walk outside, the crisp air doing little to soothe his inner turmoil.