Gemotions

The chipped mug warmed Elias’s hands, but the heat didn’t penetrate the chill that had settled in his chest. He swirled the lukewarm coffee, watching the brown liquid cling to the porcelain. He’d expected to find Dr. Aris in his usual corner office, hunched over the intricate blueprints. Instead, the space was bare, just a lingering scent of pipe tobacco and stale paper. Elias felt a dull ache behind his eyes, a pressure that wouldn't relent. He hadn't been expecting this.

His stomach clenched, a familiar sensation he usually dismissed as hunger. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture more frantic than comforting. The silence of the office, usually buzzing with the rhythmic clatter of Aris's typewriter, was now a hollow echo. He felt a profound sense of loss, a void that had suddenly opened up in his life. He wasn’t sure how to fill it.

He sat there, the coffee growing colder, the emptiness of the room a physical presence.