So instead of a single paragraph I'll give you an unedited section tonight.
Something I'll have to clean over and over again later but feels right enough to walk away from till the end.
I shot a look sideways and know my energy needed to go somewhere, it had too, so I span, grabbed my cup and threw it as hard as I could at the far wall of the production booth; it exploded and as it did my chair followed it, clattering into the foot of the wall because it was a whole heap fucking heavier than the cup. Williams watched without moving as I followed that up with my phone, e-pad and even one of my shoes that I ripped off!
I swore, I cussed, I screamed the booth down in rage! This was my haven! This was where I didn't fuck up and yet I’d completely, totally and utterly fucked up! I was in a state of total panic and rage and Williams watched it all for five minutes. I shouted and stamped! I kicked the walls and I beat my fists against them until I left skin and bloody smears over them; till I was smothered in the sweat of the indefensibly guilty.
Williams watched and when I finally looked up I could see he had tears running down his cheeks. I watched him as he had watched me. The outpouring of emotion alien to us both in so many ways became another level of our bond. He didn't smash anything up, he didn't scream, he didn't even blame me, not once. He was shattered and through the cracks in his soul came the tears, tears of regret from a man who knew what had really happened.
Thanks for reading.