Neon Nights

“Then it’s not your decision,” she replied. “If you can acknowledge that this would be good for the mission, and sentiment is what is keeping you from doing it, then the decision goes to someone who does not hold that bias.”

 

“That is exactly how this works,” she replied, leaving the room.

 

She went into the planning room and closed the door behind her.

 

(Zoop?)

 

Ophelia sat on the kitchen floor, her back against the counter and her hand to her forehead.

 

She looked up from her spot on the floor. There may have been tears in her eyes.

“You’re back.”

 

She swiped at her eyes hastily, folding her arms as she stood up.

“I didn’t know where you had gone,” she said flatly. “I didn’t know if you were coming back.”

 

She frowned at him, not saying anything. Her hair was messy and her eyes may have been red-rimmed from crying. After a moment, she turned away, going into her room and closing the door with a soft click.

 

He wouldn’t hear anything from her room for the rest of the night.

 

(Yoop!)