Gemotions

The fluorescent lights flickered, casting long, dancing shadows across the cramped elevator car. Sarah tapped her foot, a staccato rhythm against the metal floor. She couldn't stop. Her teeth were clenched, and she could feel the muscles in her jaw starting to ache. "Great," she muttered, her voice tight. "Just great."

The air grew thick and heavy, smelling faintly of stale coffee and desperation. She ran a hand through her hair, smoothing down the stray strands that had escaped her bun. Her gaze darted to the emergency phone, then back to the blank elevator control panel. She wondered if her phone had any signal.

"So," David said, his voice hesitant. "This is... awkward." Sarah didn't respond. She took a deep, shaky breath, trying to slow the racing of her heart. The ticking clock of the situation was deafening.