Gemotions

The air in the library felt oppressive. The scent of old paper and dust hung thick, suffocating. David was supposed to be studying. Instead, he found himself repeatedly rereading the same sentence, the words refusing to sink in. Across the table, Mark, his best friend, was packing his things.

He slammed the book shut, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet room. "So, you're really going, then?" His voice was flat.

Mark looked up, his face etched with a familiar excitement. "Yep! New York, here I come."

David stood up, the chair scraping against the floor. He needed air, space, a distraction from the heavy, sinking feeling in his chest. "I'm going for a walk," he muttered, then escaped, leaving the library and all its burdens behind.