Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window of the Dean's office, mirroring the storm brewing in Professor Davies’s face. Ethan watched him, arms crossed, the corner of his mouth just barely lifted. He’d known this would be a formality, a blip. The program was his; he knew it.

His heart rate was steady, a slow drum against his ribs. He felt a light, almost giddy sensation in his stomach. The accuser was clearly out of his depth.

"So, Ethan," the Dean began, sighing heavily. Ethan straightened slightly, offering a nod. "Explain this...similarity." He gestured toward the printout. Ethan took a deep breath. This was the fun part.