Gemotions

The locker room smelled of sweat and liniment, a scent that always sparked a flicker of… *something*… in Marcus. He sat on the bench, fingers tracing the worn wood. He’d known this place since he was a kid, wide-eyed and eager, the youngest on the team. Now, Coach Miller was asking him to switch from linebacker to defensive end.

His stomach clenched. He ran a hand through his hair, the familiar motion somehow offering a small comfort. The weight of his pads seemed to press down on him, heavier than usual. He thought of his teammates, the brotherhood they had built, the specific role he had within that, and it made him deeply… *unsettled*.

He remembered the crunch of helmet against helmet, the exhilaration of a perfectly timed tackle. He remembered the feeling of being in perfect alignment with the rest of the team. He thought of all that, and the prospect of changing it felt like severing something precious.