Gemotions

“Please, sit down,” the professor said, gesturing to a chair. His voice was calm, but the student couldn't meet his eyes. He remained standing, feeling pinned down, unable to move. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and a cold shiver ran down his spine.

He felt the blood drain from his face. His voice cracked as he stammered a denial, the words sounding hollow and insignificant even to his own ears. The room spun slightly. The accusations, simple and matter-of-fact, seemed to echo in his skull.

He wanted to scream, to lash out, to do anything to make the dread subside. Instead, he just stood there, frozen, the world narrowing until the professor's face was the only thing he could see.