Gemotions

He’d left it on the bed. A careless mistake, a momentary lapse in his typically fastidious routine. Now, the open journal lay exposed, the cover a damning indictment of his privacy violation. He felt the blood drain from his face as he paced the cramped dorm room.

The air in the room felt thick, heavy with unspoken accusations. He picked up his phone, his thumb hovering over her name in his contacts. He couldn't bring himself to call. What could he possibly say?

His gaze drifted to the worn pages, the ink a dark testament to her innermost thoughts. He remembered the specific entry, the one about the failed exam, the one that mentioned his loud music. He felt a sharp pang, a hollowness in his gut. He was, undoubtedly, an intruder.

He dropped the phone back onto the desk and sat heavily on his bed. The silence of the room amplified the frantic beating of his heart.