Gemotions

Liam drummed his fingers on the worn surface of the library table, a frantic rhythm that echoed the pounding in his chest. His stomach churned. He hadn't slept properly in days. The email, the damning words of accusation, had hung over him like a storm cloud. He kept replaying the scene in the professor's office, the accusing finger, the cold, analytical gaze.

He picked at a loose thread on his jeans, a futile attempt at control. The library, normally a sanctuary of quiet study, now felt like a prison. He glanced around, paranoia prickling at the back of his neck. Did everyone know? Were they all looking at him, judging him? He felt a sudden, desperate urge to flee, to disappear.

He closed his laptop, unable to focus. The words on the screen blurred, swimming before his eyes. The weight of the accusation felt crushing, and a wave of nausea washed over him. He felt as if everything he'd worked for was about to unravel.