Gemotions

The request from Kevin – Kevin, the kid who’d shoved him in the mud and laughed – hung like a digital fly in the periphery of Ben’s vision. He’d seen it an hour ago, and the feeling hadn't lessened. It was a tangible pressure in his chest.

He swiveled in his chair, staring out at the rain-streaked window. He'd been trying to focus on his work, but his thoughts kept returning to the request. He found himself picking at the skin around his thumbnail. He did this when he was under pressure.

He took a large gulp of his coffee, a little too much, and felt his throat constrict. He really should get back to it.