Gemotions

"I'm sorry," Daniel managed, his voice barely a whisper. Professor Chen's office felt impossibly small, the air thick with unspoken disapproval. He should have known better, he thought, staring at the worn rug. He'd been under so much pressure, between work and classes. The temptation had been overwhelming.

He couldn’t look up at the professor, not yet. The professor sat across from him and began listing out the specific sentences, the sources. Each sentence felt like a fresh wound.

He left the office, the weight in his chest crushing him. The campus, usually vibrant and alive, seemed muted, the laughter of students distant and hollow. He’d broken something precious, and now he had to try and fix it.