Gemotions

She chewed on her lip, a nervous habit she hadn't realized she still had. The small space seemed to shrink further with each passing minute. The air, already thin, felt increasingly stale. Her fingers fumbled with the clasp of her purse, opening and closing it repeatedly.

"Do you think they know we're in here?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Her gaze flickered over to David, who was slumped against the wall, eyes closed. He hadn't said a word in an hour.

She felt a prickling sensation on her skin, an undeniable unease. She hated enclosed spaces. She closed her eyes, trying to regulate her breathing. This couldn't be happening.