Wash looked up at his floor, long thin hallway leading to his room and looked back at Zoe. Her body language caused his eyebrows to knit and he held a foot to keep the door open as he leaned down to grab his bag. It wasn't a big elevator.
He looked back up at her and nodded.
"K," he said shortly, the one syllable saying so much hurt and so much confusion and so much anger and so much sadness.
And then he turned around and left. He didn't look back. He couldn't look back. If he did he would run to her and kiss her and never let her go. He would demand that she stay. He would guilt her into staying with him. And he could, as much as Zoe would argue otherwise, he could do it. He knew the words. Knew the actions. But he also knew that she would never be happy if he did that. She'd hate him. So he didn't look back until he was at his room down the dark hallway.
When he did, he saw nothing but closed elevator doors. And he wondered if it had been worth not looking back just to spend another moment with her.
When he got inside he promptly beat up his side table. Neither of them fared well.