Gemotions

The humid air of the museum clung to Leo like a shroud. He wiped his brow with a handkerchief, the damp cloth doing little to alleviate the internal heat. He couldn't focus on the artifacts. He could feel the weight of every person in the room on his shoulders. He felt like his head was going to explode.

He stumbled into a quiet alcove, away from the crowds. A woman was already there, leaning against a display case, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She looked as though she was holding herself together.

She looked up at him, her eyes searching. "Do you… feel it too?" she asked quietly.

Leo stared at her, bewildered.

"The constant… vigilance," she elaborated, her voice a fragile breath. "The one that makes every single thing a struggle."