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ᴊᴏɴᴀs ᴠᴀʟᴇsᴋᴀ (highfunctioning) wrote in thereincarnates,

It was a difficult thing to wrap his mind around, doing things because one could. Sometimes Jonas found himself wondering how it was people could live on impulse, but it never seemed a serious worry when pondering the existence of James Moriarty. No, this was something about him and her that he knew very well. Excruciatingly well. How could he let that idea slip his mind? Oh, right. He hadn't. When around Willa, Jonas couldn't think of anything else. She consumed him from the inside out. Some may call that romantic; he called it distracting.

"Perhaps you ought to consider a hobby. Murderous intent can only get a person so far, and I'm sure The Resistance is getting along just swimmingly without you." Jonas took a step back, regaining the upper hand when it came to who stood where. "Don't think for a moment that I have forgotten what you're capable of. You may have this trite faction fooled, but it's what you can't do that should have them frightened."

He looked down into Willa's face. She mocked him, but he watched her as though she were nothing more than a science project. "I have all the answers I need." His lids narrowed and his lip curled. "But the question is," Jonas leaned in, his mouth practically flush against her ear. "Do you?" He stood upright, adjusting the collar of his coat. He turned on his heel, feet towards the door.

In his own way, Jonas understood what that meant. Being bored. But that wasn't the end of all things. This was only the beginning. He knew it as well as she did. Who could tell what sort of devastations were to come next? Now that Willa Thompson and Robert Kingsley had been inside the headquarters of her makeshift enemy. He didn't know. He didn't care. The lives to come and go were not his to worry about. Willa was his responsibility. This they all knew. This they couldn't forget.

"I think we're finished here. Thank you for your hospitality, Professor. We really should do this again. Sometime soon."