Gemotions

He felt his shoulders slump, his internal world collapsing in on him. David had poured his soul into the research paper. To have someone suggest that he didn't write it himself—it was a blow he wasn't prepared for. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture clumsy and defeated.

He tried to focus on what the professor was saying, but the words felt muffled, distant, as if spoken underwater. He stared at the floorboards, at the cracks in the paint, at anything but the accusatory gaze of the teacher.

A bitter taste filled his mouth. He thought about all the hours, all the effort. "But... but I..." he stammered, unable to find words that would bridge the gap between his reality and the accusation.