04-05-2009, 12:14 AM
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Geneva swallowed the lump forming in her throat, her stomach churning in rebellion against the shaking of her system. She blinked hard a few times, looking away from Jefferson and Addison as she tried to regain focus. She was acting completely ridiculous, making a spectacle of herself. And there was clearly no danger present to either of them at the moment. It was so silly, but now she felt the fear flood her bones, stirring the chilled feelings inside of her. But she was grateful that this crippling sense of terror, stealing what little dignity she had left, had come after she had ventured out on to the ledge. She felt that she would have been terrified and just as much in need of rescuing as Addison if she had felt this flood of terror out on the ledge.
Her legs had stopped quivering, the breath wheezing through her airway much less pronounced. She felt much less shaky, much less like the ground was shaking underneath her and like the sky was going to fall and crush her. Now she wished that ground would open up and swallow her whole. She felt Jefferson's emerald eye on her, and the contact felt electric. His scrutiny, his concern felt like a brand burning into her skin. Embarrassment flooded her, but she turned her head slowly to look into his face.
"I'm fine, thank you," she said more evenly, her voice hushed by her embarrassment. Her whisper-thin voice didn't shake, and she was pleased. She didn't want the Patriarch that she was as useless as she felt right now, as if she was made of glass. But in the face of fear, she often folded. She had been trying to face it, trying to conquer it. But she had a long way to go before she could completely, boldly look fear in the face without some stubborn reason to guide her.
She smiled, thin-lipped, at Addison. "Next time you feel like going on an adventure, how about you ask me or Jeff," she rolled her lime green orbs to look into his face with the ghost of amusement in her face, "to keep you company."
Her legs had stopped quivering, the breath wheezing through her airway much less pronounced. She felt much less shaky, much less like the ground was shaking underneath her and like the sky was going to fall and crush her. Now she wished that ground would open up and swallow her whole. She felt Jefferson's emerald eye on her, and the contact felt electric. His scrutiny, his concern felt like a brand burning into her skin. Embarrassment flooded her, but she turned her head slowly to look into his face.
"I'm fine, thank you," she said more evenly, her voice hushed by her embarrassment. Her whisper-thin voice didn't shake, and she was pleased. She didn't want the Patriarch that she was as useless as she felt right now, as if she was made of glass. But in the face of fear, she often folded. She had been trying to face it, trying to conquer it. But she had a long way to go before she could completely, boldly look fear in the face without some stubborn reason to guide her.
She smiled, thin-lipped, at Addison. "Next time you feel like going on an adventure, how about you ask me or Jeff," she rolled her lime green orbs to look into his face with the ghost of amusement in her face, "to keep you company."