two paths

[Jefferson Soul]

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http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... itable.png);background-position:bottom;background-repeat:no-repeat;"> -- DaVinci had been right about him; Jefferson couldn't speak for love, he'd never experienced it. The gimp was still slowly adjusting himself to friendship, to the concept of relying on others--a task truly difficult for a creature self-raised in independence, a creature who had come to believe that violence could, though unnecessarily, solve any problem. Peacefully talking things through never worked, he'd once believed. Having since seen such acts before his eyes--peace talks, negotiations, alliances--he'd learned otherwise, but love? He'd never seen love, let alone feel it. He'd seen Iskata miserable about her lost mate, about her children, about her own life and loneliness. He'd seen Lucifer and Deuce running off into the sunset, but the cyclops had a feeling what went on behind closed doors, and there was nothing sexual about it. He'd seen DaVinci lovestruck (of all the things he'd ever expected DaVinci to behave, this wasn't one of them), but he'd never seen the other half of love. Jefferson wasn't lonely. He was just alone. He'd developed that fondness for Zana and DaVinci had already recognized it. Judging by the whimsicality he spoke with, by the hopefulness and grace in the back of his voice, the silver-furred creature was thinking too much into it, had too much faith in the gimp. Jefferson wasn't capable of that. "Hell," he grunted, scratching lazily at his side, "you can have your kids and your love life. Everyone can just leave me alone to live mine." And he meant it. He didn't want to bother with the world, and the world didn't want to bother with him. The world didn't need to know about the fondness, the soft side, the vulnerability that was somewhere within. He straightened his back a little, shaking his head. All humor had been lost from his voice. "I can't give you advice on your love life, DaVinci. You're the one who said I was an ugly brute." He shrugged, sarcastic, but yet truthful. "I ran into her a few months back at a graveyard out somewhere. We broke in and I tried to teach her how to read the gravestones or something. I didn't mind her. I wouldn't mind her here, if you wanted her that badly. But, ah, whatever." Don't get him wrong, after all. Jefferson wasn't a good guy or anything.

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