Gemotions

The cold metal of the elevator doors felt like a barrier between Marcus and the world. He glared at Eleanor, the woman who'd managed to get them both stuck. It was her fault, of course. She’d insisted on taking the "scenic route" – the rickety old elevator, instead of the express one.

Eleanor was now fiddling with her phone, as if this was some minor inconvenience. He remembered her dismissive tone earlier that day, when he’d offered suggestions during their team meeting. Suggestions *he* thought were pretty good.

“I’m sure they’ll have us out soon,” Eleanor said, her voice a little too breezy. Marcus leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. He said nothing. He wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of a response.