Gemotions

The faint scent of vanilla, Sarah’s preferred air freshener, usually comforting, was now a source of agitation. Michael felt a tremor running through him, a barely contained tremor of dread, as he stared at the desk. His journal was gone.

His gaze swept the room, landing on Sarah. She was humming, her back to him, as she meticulously cleaned her side of the dorm. The humming grated on his nerves. He felt a sudden, sharp urge to explode.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Sarah?" he began, his voice tight. The world seemed to shrink around him, focusing on the moment, on Sarah's reaction.