Gemotions

He slammed the laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the otherwise quiet room. Ethan slumped in his chair, fingers drumming a restless rhythm on the desk. He hadn't been this agitated in months. He’d practically worshipped Elara Finch, the author whose prose had lifted him from despair countless times. Now, he felt betrayed, the weight of the revelation pressing down on his chest, making it hard to breathe.

He got up abruptly, pacing the small apartment. Outside, the city roared, a symphony of sirens and traffic. Normally, it was a sound he enjoyed; a constant hum of life. Today, it was just noise. He glanced at his bookshelf, at the worn copies of Finch’s novels, the spines cracked and dog-eared from countless readings. They now seemed to mock him.

He picked up a pen and began to tap it against his teeth, a habit he hadn’t indulged in since he was a teenager. He felt a throbbing ache in his temples, a physical manifestation of the anger he couldn't vocalize. He wanted to scream.