save the last dance for me

[Geneva Stockholm]

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She could see that he was struggling with something, but he would not let her see it. It was a struggle for him even now, to allow himself to be close to her. She had to fight for every inch he gave her, and she had to fight to keep it after it was given. But it was something that she was willing to do as long as he was willing to keep trying. It was a constant struggle, a daily battle that they faced together, but she wouldn't give up the fight if he was still willing to try. It was obvious that he fought as hard as her. That had to mean something.

Geneva had not posed a question to him, but he had detected the purpose behind her blunder of words. His finger on her lips silenced her, and her lime green eyes crossed for a moment in surprise as she looked at it. And then he looked away, his face twisted in a scowl. She waited, incredibly still as she waited for him to speak. And in true Jefferson fashion, he had answered her question with a question. Despite the serious look in his eyes, and the gravity of his voice, she felt compelled to smile wryly. She nipped his finger lightly for answering her question with a question.

She could see that he was trying to be careful, trying to map out the possibilities. Could it be that he was afraid? Afraid of admitting it, afraid of what it could mean? Geneva was uneasy with the unknown, but she would not let that fear control her. "Could you tell me in honesty that you loved me?" she countered.

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