How to save a life

Jefferson Soul · 07-10-2010, 05:50 PM

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She offered to help him even after he had already turned away. Jefferson turned his eye over his shoulder, analyzing the girl as if searching for hidden motives, as if he had reason to fear her like he would fear being secretly poisoned. The leg he limped on, the arm across his chest in its sling—it summarized him, in a way, and had always been present at each and every meeting he had ever made. None had offered to help him before; it came across as a shock that someone had any desire to. He was a sinner, after all, and did not try to hide the fact. Perhaps the rest of the world agreed with it and let him be with his scars and pain, but this curly-haired stranger was... different.

He thinned his eye at her, searching for reasons against it. The handicap was too old, now; it was very unlikely there was any remedy to rid him of the permanent pain, but he had no reason to argue against trying. The arm was delicate, however, and the touch of it sometimes brought him to hissing. He knew barely anything about Alaine, who cowered like a rabbit at his every word, and yet he found himself pulled to entrust her somehow.

Jefferson turned, his scars scowling, and slowly pulled his arm from its sling. It hung rather limply at his side, all strength seeped from his muscles as always. The cyclops cast his cold gaze on her just long enough to silently give permission, and then it sank shamefully to the ground.

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