03-10-2009, 11:47 PM
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Geneva's ears flicked back and forth idly as she flipped her journal open to a new page, having already filled it with some of her thoughts. She listened to the sound of the rain as she lay in front of the fireplace on her stomach, resting on her elbows. This spot had become her retreat, her comfort zone. Probably to the chagrin of the usually disgruntled Patriarch.
She took care to give him his space when he was in his chair and needed to think, but she frequented the spot in front of the fireplace as well. The place was probably rife with her scent - she herself couldn't smell much of anything, but she was certain that Jefferson could. She was baiting a tiger and she knew it, but she liked to get a rise out of him.
At the moment she was lost in her own thoughts, her pen working furiously over the lined paper. She had so much to synthesize. Her thoughts turned, as they often did, to Crimson Dreams and to her. She winced, stopping her pen. Their last encounter had left a bad taste in her mouth, but things would be the way they would be. She just wished she could change them, for the better.
She took care to give him his space when he was in his chair and needed to think, but she frequented the spot in front of the fireplace as well. The place was probably rife with her scent - she herself couldn't smell much of anything, but she was certain that Jefferson could. She was baiting a tiger and she knew it, but she liked to get a rise out of him.
At the moment she was lost in her own thoughts, her pen working furiously over the lined paper. She had so much to synthesize. Her thoughts turned, as they often did, to Crimson Dreams and to her. She winced, stopping her pen. Their last encounter had left a bad taste in her mouth, but things would be the way they would be. She just wished she could change them, for the better.