With the sound of the door slamming shut still ringing in his ears not so much due to the loudness as the meaning behind the action itself, Karl rubs tiny circular motions at his forehead just over the eyebrows in an attempt to force unwelcome thoughts away.
He is not surprised when it does not work and trades his circles for the resigned sound of a sigh as he tilts his head skywards to stare at the ceiling holding up the rest of the tower, so cruelly lying between him and the sunset. This is not the first time time they have argued with each other, if the exchange of words can even be called that, and it is not going to be the last. But their arguments have grown worse over the years, becoming ever more heated as Anders' frustration at the world grows, and Karl does what he can to keep his own frustration down. Frustration at the world at large would be another thing they could share, but when it comes to heated exchanges of words instead of kisses, the frustration that eats at Karl is directed at an Anders who will not or can not understand that laying low does not have to be about cowardice, not screaming his disapproval from the top of the library's bookshelves is not the same as being content with how things are, or that to not constantly fight against the rules at every turn is just as good as agreeing with them.
Of course many of the rules put in place chafe with all their restrictions, and following them does not bring Karl more peace than the small mercy of not having templars hound him more than necessary. And he does not follow them all, he has to think with a small smile despite it all; Anders knows this well. But when he gets into the kind of mood that causes him to rail against everything and everyone that does not handle things as he does the smaller acts of defiance are easily forgotten, and that is something that hurts more than Karl is willing to let him know.
He might have chosen the path of least resistance, but he has never said it is one he enjoys walking.
