Gemotions

Her hands were clammy, despite the air conditioning blasting in her apartment. The text message had hit her like a physical blow: "Hey, are you free for a coffee? I'm, uh, right around the corner." Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence. It was all a blur.

She replayed their last conversation in her head, searching for clues, for anything she might have missed, anything that might explain why he was *here*, in her city. Every seemingly innocent question, every off-hand remark suddenly felt loaded with subtext. She felt herself start to hyperventilate.

She paced. Should she answer? Should she ignore it? The phone felt heavy in her hand, a weighty burden of digital connection and sudden, terrifying proximity. The world narrowed to the confines of her small apartment, a cage of anxiety and anticipation.