Gemotions

His breath hitched in his throat. The website's garish layout mocked him, a neon sign highlighting his deepest insecurities. He felt a sudden, visceral need to rip the screen from the wall, to destroy the evidence. His heart hammered in his chest, a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

He slammed his fist on the desk. The pain was a welcome distraction, a physical manifestation of his internal turmoil. He had to think, to plan. But his brain was a jumbled mess of panic. The air in the room felt electrified, a constant buzz of anxiety.

He couldn't stay here, not in this digital prison. He threw open the window, gulping down the cool evening air. He needed to be anywhere but here, anywhere where he wasn't exposed. He grabbed his keys and fled.