Winter is staring out the window, having already cleaned his guns and done push-ups and paced around the apartment several times. Staring at the snow is next on the agenda, apparently.
He glances in her direction when she speaks. Pauses. Takes in her posture and her tension. Frowns.
Why does she look angry? Why is she thanking him if she's angry? Is she angry at something not-him?
"You're welcome," he says, voice toneless, because that's safest when someone is angry.
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He glances in her direction when she speaks. Pauses. Takes in her posture and her tension. Frowns.
Why does she look angry? Why is she thanking him if she's angry? Is she angry at something not-him?
"You're welcome," he says, voice toneless, because that's safest when someone is angry.