Gemotions

The fluorescent lights in the hallway buzzed, amplifying the frantic rhythm of Leo's heartbeat. He stood outside the door, hesitating. He'd almost turned around and fled. He was here because of the way he felt: exposed, vulnerable. And now, he had to trust *Mark*? Mark Harrison, who once delighted in making Leo feel like an idiot?

He took a deep breath and opened the door. The office was modern, minimalist, almost jarring in its simplicity. Mark looked up from his desk, his expression neutral. Leo instinctively hunched his shoulders, feeling the familiar sting of his old insecurities.

"Come in, Leo," Mark said, gesturing toward a chair. "Have a seat."