Gemotions

He sat by the window, watching the city lights blur through the rain-streaked glass. The city's energy, usually invigorating, now grated on his nerves. The feeling of being adrift, of being separate from everything, was overwhelming.

He entered a dimly lit bar, seeking solace. He ordered a drink, nursing it slowly, the alcohol doing little to dull the sharp edges of his anxiety.

He noticed a woman across the room, she kept checking her watch. Every few seconds. He saw the way her fingers drummed nervously on the tabletop. The way she kept looking around.

He walked over and asked if she was alright. She looked up, and he saw the fear reflected in her eyes. And on her wrist, a familiar, faint scar.

"Do you know why we feel like this?" she asked, her voice cracking.

He nodded, knowing this was just the beginning.