Gemotions

The manuscript lay open on the coffee table, a cruel, unwelcome guest. Liam stared at the words, his face pale. His blood felt like ice, coursing through his veins. The fictional "David" was him, every detail meticulously documented, every insecurity laid bare.

He paced the living room, his steps heavy and irregular, like a caged animal. He felt a sharp pressure in his chest, making it difficult to breathe. The air in the room seemed thin, insufficient. He clutched his chest, willing the ache to subside.

He found himself grabbing at his phone, his fingers trembling as he looked at the name "Ethan". He would have to see him, to understand. The thought of facing him, of having to speak, filled him with a feeling of dread. It was a suffocating pressure that seemed to squeeze the life out of him.