Gemotions

"Seriously?" Chloe’s voice was clipped, sharp. The accusations – veiled, yet pointed – from the TA had her fingers tapping a frantic rhythm on the table. She could feel her pulse thrumming in her temples. The air in the small office felt dense, oppressive. It was as if her own brain was trying to claw its way out of her skull.

She wanted to laugh, to dismiss it as absurd, but the look on the TA's face, a mixture of pity and disapproval, prevented it. She felt a heat rise in her chest, a need to lash out, to defend herself. Instead, she took a shaky breath and asked, "Can you please be more specific?" Her voice was a strained whisper.