Gemotions

He’d offered her his water bottle, a gesture she met with a withering look. John was always trying to be helpful, always trying to be…nice. It was nauseating. He probably thought this shared predicament was some kind of bonding experience. He was wrong. Her pulse hammered against her ribs, a frantic rhythm mirroring her growing frustration. The air, already stale, was growing thicker with each passing minute.

"We should try to stay positive," he said, the words dripping with forced cheer.

Her lips curled in a barely perceptible sneer. “Positive? This is ridiculous. I had a meeting that could have sealed a promotion.”

He gave a slight, nervous laugh, which she found particularly grating. He probably didn't understand the pressures she was under, the sacrifices she made.