It was funny, the way she craved words. Perhaps it was the result of life as a wall flower. When she spoke her mind, she was honest. The woman was becoming a creature of action instead of reaction, remolding herself in the image of a proper sub-leader. Still, she wanted to hear the words from Jefferson. She needed to hear them as much as she need him to hear them. The man was good at hiding, even from himself.
She was almost taken aback by his confidence when he spoke to her again. His words were simple and few, but they meant a lot to the woman. He had made eye contact with her, as if to reinforce the words. Overcome with happiness that he had given her an honest answer at all, and the one that she had wanted, she bent down and wrapped her arms around his neck, planting her mouth over his in a sudden warm moment of joy.