Gemotions

The smell of stale coffee and printer ink hung heavy in the air. This place, this office, used to be *his*. He’d built a reputation here. He’d seen colleagues come and go. Now, he was the one going. And this new guy, Kevin, was supposed to inherit everything.

He leaned back in his chair, watching Kevin carefully, meticulously going through the presentation he’d prepared. He picked at a stray thread on his sleeve, his gaze flitting away from Kevin and settling on the window, the world outside. The instructions felt laborious and pointless.

"And then, you'll want to... make sure the formatting is consistent," he finally said, his voice flat. He felt a sharp pang as Kevin’s gaze locked onto the screen, eager to learn. A surge of protectiveness, of something else, washed over him, a feeling that felt like a closed fist.