Gemotions

He found the office empty. Empty of everything but the scent of old leather and a lingering sense of loss. He'd been expecting a lecture, a final push towards the deadline he’d been dreading. Now, silence. Michael ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn't realized he'd adopted. He should have called. He should have at least said thank you.

He spun around in the worn leather chair, the leather creaking in protest. He remembered all the times he’d rolled his eyes at Elias’s lengthy anecdotes. Now, he’d give anything to hear one more. He walked over to the windows, staring out at the cityscape, feeling utterly adrift.