Gemotions

The laboratory was sterile, devoid of the usual controlled chaos. Dr. Eleanor Vance, the brilliant chemist, and the person who had given him a shot, his mentor, had left. Just a brief message on her desk: "On to new discoveries. – Eleanor." The silence was unnerving.

Mark felt the familiar pull of her influence, the constant need for her validation. He found himself running through their research, desperately searching for some explanation. He felt a wave of nausea, a dizzying mix of panic and disappointment.

He missed her sharp intellect, her unwavering dedication, the way she made him feel smart, useful. He wanted to call her, to send her a message. Instead, he stared at her empty chair, feeling utterly lost. He wanted to impress her, to prove he was worthy. He felt a sharp pang of loneliness, a gnawing hollowness in his chest.