Gemotions

The email sat in Leo's inbox, radiating a cold, digital glare. Professor Davies’ name, the subject line: “Academic Integrity Concerns.” He stared at it, the words blurring around the edges, his heart hammering against his ribs like a frantic bird. He'd never felt this constricted before.

He pushed away from his desk, the chair scraping against the floor. He needed air, needed to think, but his thoughts were a jumbled mess, impossible to unravel. He grabbed his worn leather jacket, the familiar weight a small comfort, and headed out into the hallway. The fluorescent lights overhead seemed to hum with an unsettling energy.

He paced back and forth, the worn carpet under his feet a solid, grounding presence in the face of his spinning thoughts. He replayed the scene in his mind, the essay he’d written. The late nights, the research, the agonizing over every sentence. He knew where the words had come from. Or, at least, he thought he did.