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misty eyes and teardrops
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wc253
It wasn't what he was looking for. The last thing Jefferson had ever wanted was more personal issues or more trouble for himself. Love was trouble, that he knew. He'd never had a decent conversation about the topic--love, children, family--but from what he'd seen and heard as the innocent passer-by and from the scars of tormented rape-baby loners finding outlets for their pain, love was nothing he wanted to be part of. Luckily, the hybrid had never possessed such a rage anywhere similar to that of the stereotypical heartbroken maniac, especially since his own memories were still clouded out and had caused some serious frustration for some time that would have been easily destressed through mindless slaughter and bloodshed. Somehow, Jefferson contained the dignity to stand above such actions. The scars throughout his body was proof that others did not.
"No," he scoffed, flashing her a quick smirk that he hastily swallowed away. He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. "I don't want to learn about that shit. Give me a break. Out of all the things I've ever called myself, 'father' has never been one of them." A shrug and an idle scratch at his neck. "I never saw the appeal in it all, but it's not like I met a lot of people. I'm good on my own in, uh... more ways than one." Green eye averted again. Regardless of it all, there'd never be a soul to care for a beast like he, anyway. He was okay with that.
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