02-23-2009, 12:38 AM
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Geneva's ears perked up when she heard someone approaching. She squinted lime green eyes against the cold wind. She saw that it was Jefferson that approached her, his thin frame easily recognizable, framed against the empty palette of white snow and gray sky. There was a moment where she only held her breath, didn't dare to move from the spot. Her body recalled the ghost of adrenaline and the terrified rhythm of her heartbeat, her mind jolted into memory at the mere sight of him.
She could recall exactly the way she had felt during their first meeting, which led her to wonder why she had even thought to come here at all. She already knew the answer, but the question still burned through her veins. She waited for him to move near, his words arresting whatever she might have said by way of greeting.
She was quiet for several seconds, her eyes tracing over his haggard frame and the peculiar expression on his face. The single green eye, capable of firing with fatal electricity, seemed to lack luster. His eye was cast to the ground, and she felt an answering resonance in the emotion so clearly expressed in the tired lines of his body.
The look on his face was...delicate. It shocked her. For one who so readily presented the world with an offensive front, an acerbic tongue. It seemed his mask had slipped, or maybe he was just too tired to put on his game face for her. For some reason, that bothered her more than anything she had on her mind.
She closed the distance between them until she stood a foot away. This was the first time she had seen him on four legs, and she was just as small in this form too. Still, she lifted her neck, her eyes intent on his bowed face. "Tell me what I can do." Not, "is there anything I can do?" or "what can I do?" She should know better than to make demands of him by now, but here she was, doing it again. In this matter, she offered him no quarter.
He looked like he had lost the world. And she wanted to ease him of that burden, take some of it on herself, if she could.
Geneva's ears perked up when she heard someone approaching. She squinted lime green eyes against the cold wind. She saw that it was Jefferson that approached her, his thin frame easily recognizable, framed against the empty palette of white snow and gray sky. There was a moment where she only held her breath, didn't dare to move from the spot. Her body recalled the ghost of adrenaline and the terrified rhythm of her heartbeat, her mind jolted into memory at the mere sight of him.
She could recall exactly the way she had felt during their first meeting, which led her to wonder why she had even thought to come here at all. She already knew the answer, but the question still burned through her veins. She waited for him to move near, his words arresting whatever she might have said by way of greeting.
She was quiet for several seconds, her eyes tracing over his haggard frame and the peculiar expression on his face. The single green eye, capable of firing with fatal electricity, seemed to lack luster. His eye was cast to the ground, and she felt an answering resonance in the emotion so clearly expressed in the tired lines of his body.
The look on his face was...delicate. It shocked her. For one who so readily presented the world with an offensive front, an acerbic tongue. It seemed his mask had slipped, or maybe he was just too tired to put on his game face for her. For some reason, that bothered her more than anything she had on her mind.
She closed the distance between them until she stood a foot away. This was the first time she had seen him on four legs, and she was just as small in this form too. Still, she lifted her neck, her eyes intent on his bowed face. "Tell me what I can do." Not, "is there anything I can do?" or "what can I do?" She should know better than to make demands of him by now, but here she was, doing it again. In this matter, she offered him no quarter.
He looked like he had lost the world. And she wanted to ease him of that burden, take some of it on herself, if she could.