04-15-2009, 01:01 AM
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So, she'd written about him before. His gaze on her, though still drowsy and reminiscent of sleep and weariness, tightened in slight suspicion and curiosity. Jefferson beat down the immediate impulse to question her about it--he couldn't be too nosy or forward, after all--but his suspicion only rose when she very obviously took all efforts to keep from laughing at him one way or another. His scowl lengthened, darkening his face into a dumb pout and frown. To remember, to decide. Why would she want to remember him? What was there to decide?
So, she'd written about him before. His gaze on her, though still drowsy and reminiscent of sleep and weariness, tightened in slight suspicion and curiosity. Jefferson beat down the immediate impulse to question her about it--he couldn't be too nosy or forward, after all--but his suspicion only rose when she very obviously took all efforts to keep from laughing at him one way or another. His scowl lengthened, darkening his face into a dumb pout and frown. To remember, to decide. Why would she want to remember him? What was there to decide?
It was too much. "Decide? Decide what?" His voice raised somewhat, the cyclops leaning forward in the chair. He hardly cared to make it look subtle anymore, that he wanted to know what she'd written. "What did you write about me?" A pause for consideration. He leaned back again, breathed, and sighed, momentarily feeling the heat and flicker of the fire in the hearth. "Read something," he dared her, resisting the impulse to smirk.