01-12-2009, 09:43 PM
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300+ Geneva flinched as the one-eyed man turned on her, raising a hand as if to strike. She braced herself for the impact of the blow, her ears pressing down tightly against her head and her shoulders rounding. She still kept her hands down, though she held them tightly at her sides. Her lime green eyes remained wide open and trained on him as before, despite how her body readied itself for his strike. His reaction hadn't been unexpected. She had practically invited him to attack her in retaliation for her words. Her mind knew this and she accepted it, but her body instinctively curled itself against the thought of pain. It was entirely instinctual to shy away from pain, which made her question the man before her even more. The pain was obvious, written in every line and curve of his body. Why did he hold it so close to his chest? She was surprised when he didn't bring his hand down. Her eyes switched from watching it to watching his face once more. His expression hadn't calmed. If anything, it was stormier than ever. She sucked her breath in sharply. The look on his face was terrible. There wasn't just anger there spelled out in that electric green eye. Despite his fury, she saw pain lurking so close. She felt for a moment that she had probably worsened his suffering. Guilt was plain, evident and readable on her face as fear. But she stood resolute, unwilling or unable to move. She wasn't sure. "I'm sorry," she said, and her voice was little more than a breathy whisper. Her voice was hushed, a subconscious change on her part. She was compensating for raising her voice to him before. She wasn't cowed, though she was terrified. It just wasn't in her nature to be so loud. And she was apologizing not for incurring his wrath, but for acting as a conduit for magnifying his pain. That had been the last thing she had wanted to do. But then again, she didn't even know why she was here in the first place. Death wish, she reminded herself, her terror addling her a bit, twisting her adrenaline into slight hysteria. Not that she could express it, rooted to the spot as she was. "Geneva," she breathed. " My name is Geneva." Her voice was softer this time. It was all she had to offer him. Or at least, the only thing he would accept at the moment. |