They glare at one another until he storms out, his face a veritable thundercloud. She glowers after him, finding no amusement at the technicians quickly skirting out of his way as he stomps from the Control Room.
She throws herself into her chair, ignoring the concerned looks she’s receiving from those present outside. They don’t know why they were arguing, but since arguments have been such a rarity lately, they’ve forgotten how to deal with their two leaders at odds.
She stares at the urn on her desk. Why is he so damn complicated?