he believed in forgiveness

Jefferson Soul · 11-26-2010, 06:29 PM

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Perhaps he had forgotten about Jordan, the man the cyclops had somehow replaced, and Shae, the child Pripyat had done the same, or perhaps Jefferson had simply pushed them out of his mind. Out of sight, out of mind, after all; Geneva had stopped mentioning them long ago, and the Patriarch had understood the Whilom to be over their respective deaths. However, she still spoke of Jordan with a tenderness of voice, like shadows of a former affection still lingered somewhere within, and instantaneously the cyclops unconsciously shifted away from her just slightly, withdrawing some at the new information. She'd chosen Jefferson, she said. She loved him. Had Jordan never left, would things have ended up the same?

He couldn't hold such questions within. "Then things would be different if he were still alive," the cyclops said flatly, emerald eye grim at the water's crest. She didn't love him in the way she loved Jordan, and as a result she didn't love Pripyat the way she'd loved Shae. He could not ask her to feel different, he could not expect her to change her affections. Their existences, their consequent deaths, had had a lasting effect on her. That much was out of his hands completely, but it wasn't jealousy that twisted his stomach then. It was, just maybe, hate. Disgust. Fear, maybe.

Though his brow remained furrowed and scarred features stiff, he did not reveal such feelings to her. There was no point. "You jumped because of him," he said. He shifted again, withdrew more, pulled away from her ever so subtly. You jumped because I'm not him.

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