At the end of her reply, it being quick-witted and lighthearted as always, a sheepish, almost unwanted and small smile slid onto the one-eyed brute's face. It might have been a bad decision for him to do so, but he followed her advice and looked straight at her then, just as the smile widened somewhat. It was genuine, rare; a diamond in the rough. Jefferson didn't know what effect a smile would have on his scarred and monstrous face that was already broken beyond repair, but perhaps it was the last of his deep-set emotions she had yet to see. Would she react as she always did, taken aback in being faced by yet another one of his unexpected responses, this one being the most uncharacteristic and horrible of them all? Would she leave him alone for his wandering eyes, always on the alert? Would she let him be when he wouldn't smile, because his mind was too troubled by far more important things?
He decided then that he didn't mind this girl; she was exotic, different. Her company intrigued him somehow, in ways he could not explain nor bothered to think further into. The cyclops hated the questions she sent him, hated how he had to think about himself when she was around. He hated what she did to him... but he couldn't bring himself to hate her. Not at all.
Eye pointed congenially straight at her and an unfamiliar, gentle smile on his face, he began to shake his head. "Because there's too much to see here," he replied quietly. "Not everything has answers." Their eyes were connected, and he did not break his gaze away. The green eye of his was unbelievably dynamic in color and emotion; so much laid there beneath the surface that everything within his eye seemed to leap out at her. What he lacked from the loss of his other eye was summed up in the one remaining. "I save direct looks for people in trouble, you know," he said, voice somewhat softer than usual. A man of many faces, he was, and yet that scarred eye remained in each one.