Every single moment now was a terrifying blessing. She realized how truly scared she really was as she tread the damp coastline with an uncertain smile on her imperfect face. Her heart hammered in her chest, a sensation that was becoming familiar, as her olive colored eyes stayed fixed the form of the creature that had become the center of her world. It hadn't been very often that they ventured from the light house, but at his earnest insistence, Geneva had decided to cautiously venture forward.
The sky was beautiful, a wash of sunset colors, but she doubted she would ever be transfixed by it ever again. Eyes of the palest, iciest blue gazed up at the kaleidoscope of colors in the sky, and it was those eyes that arrested her heart and made her catch her breath as she beheld the simple wonder and pleasure within that pale gaze. The last time she had watched the sky, it had been the day he had been born. She had stayed awake through the evening and into the day, terrified that he would never get to see his first sunrise. The sun had set upon her daughter's life before she had been able to feel the sun on her face. But that had not been the case for the boy with the bluest eyes she had ever seen.
She shepherded him away from the water, letting him experience the coolness of the sea in the puddles that dotted the sand. Geneva watched as he took special care to step within each puddle he could find, catching sight of his reflection, and her own over his shoulder. She was never very far from him - not yet. She supposed one day there would be a time to let go, but for now she clung with a joyful desperation, completely unsure why she had been found worthy of such a precious gift of life; it was a strange love, one that completely encompassed her every waking thought, and inspired every motive and action. Everything now was for him, and she loved him - truly, madly, deeply.
Her happiness was not perfect here, but it was enough, more than enough for the scarred woman. There were times she ached, but she had pushed those feelings aside, because the blue-eyed boy needed her. At first he was dependent on her for everything. During the first nights of his life, she would lay awake with her face by his nose, making certain that he breathed. And she was desperate, too, to reconcile herself with someone else. But she had called, and he hadn't come. And now fear - of rejection, of loss, of the unknown - kept her here, close enough to know if something had actually happened to Jefferson, if she ventured out. But she couldn't leave her blue-eyed boy, not yet.
A low sound reached her ears, and her eyes widened in panic as the boy with blue eyes took off like a shot. He chanced a glance behind his shoulder, knowing that this would upset his mother it seemed. But curiosity reigned supreme, and the sound did not seem to be that far away. "Pripyat!" the scarred female yelled, her thin voice rising high in the salty air as she took off after him. It was not long at all before she caught up to her son; and in the same breath, the boy with blue eyes found himself looking up into a set of imperfect features and the glow of a single green eye.