Gemotions

A bead of sweat trickled down Maya's temple, tracing a path through the meticulously applied foundation. The professor's words, a droning monotone, echoed in her head. Accusation. Plagiarism. Failure. But all she could focus on was the way the polished wood of the table felt beneath her fingertips, cool and firm.

She tapped a finger rhythmically against the surface, the sound a counterpoint to her racing heart. The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in. A dizzying sensation washed over her, a feeling like she was poised at the edge of a precipice.

"Ms. Chen," the professor repeated, his voice sharper this time. She raised her head, forcing a smile, a slight twitch at the corner of her lip. It's exhilarating, this feeling, the danger of it all.