Each time the cyclops grew dreadfully serious, it was repelled with a youthful, almost childish reaction for the olive-eyed woman. The sound of her giggle was melodic; his ears unconsciously pricked at the sound and he resisted grinning any further than a small, tightly restrained smile. Jefferson admired that in her: Geneva could absorb any frustration or anger he could throw at her like a sponge, seriously considering all his actions as made evident by her studying eyes, but the anger was never released or returned. She simply took it all in, smiled, and continued on as normal. He admired that. The fact that he'd never attempted such a feat, however, was something he was consistently disappointed in himself for.
She nipped at his finger, at which point it was retracted and she spoke once more. It was an ongoing fight between the two, one always questioning the other while never reaching answers or conclusions. This, of course, was probably his fault; although Geneva had already broken down his walls, it was as if Jefferson was trying to protect the fallen debris, all that was left of his fortress. Tattered ears flicked back once again and as always he released a long, burdened sigh as his thoughts buzzed about in his mind. "Yes..." dragged his voice in response, trailing off slowly. He could be honest to her -- he had been honest to her before. He swallowed the lump in his throat, connected his green eye with her olive, and continued more confidently: "I do."