Gemotions

The elevator felt like a tomb. It wasn't the darkness, it was the isolation. The thought of spending hours confined with John made Marie's stomach churn. She couldn't believe this was happening, with *him*.

John, who usually exuded an aura of casual superiority, seemed just as unnerved as she felt. She found herself watching him closely, cataloging every fidget, every nervous glance. He was usually so composed.

She ran a hand through her hair, a gesture born more of nerves than of any practical purpose. She felt a growing sense of dread, a feeling that this experience would be etched in her memory forever. She just wanted to be anywhere else.