[b]Floyd - House - Jess/Abram[/b]

To him, the entire conversation had been pointless. None of what he said really gave Floyd any sort of second thoughts. Instead, when Abram spoke of Jess, he became irritated. He didn't want this stranger speaking of the girl in any form or fashion. When the soldier said he'd seen Jess before - back at the catacombs - Floyd couldn't bare to listen to the man any longer. He couldn't comprehend why he hadn't helped her back then. He ignored all the facts about Tyler's militia and focused on the saving Jess part. He wanted to comment about it, but it would be pointless because what he had to say next would make any further conversation futile. 

Floyd dragged the blanket off of himself and put it aside. He held his wound with his left hand as he used his right to force himself to stand. He walked towards the stairs, not making eye contact with the soldier. Before starting up the stairs, he spoke. 

"You can spend the night here. There's a room under the stairs over there. But I need you gone by noon tomorrow" he stated, resuming his walk and heading up the stairs. Deep in his heart he truly did appreciate the man's hospitality, an appreciation he would never reveal to him. But even with all that, Floyd didn't trust the man. He was a stranger, just like anybody else. For all he knew, the man told nothing but lies - lies that would eventually give him the upper hand. Nowadays, anybody could be anybody. For all they knew, Abram was a criminal or terrorists - not that it was likely - but there was indeed a chance. Trust is not given, it's earned - earned through time. 

But Floyd's reasoning is too long to explain, so he pushed it aside - like everything else - and finally made his way to the second floor of the house. While up there, he started down the creaking hallway, walking slowly in order to prevent the loud noise. In due time, he ended up before the door of Jess' room. He desired to knock and make sure she was doing fine. He wanted to open the door and make sure she was tucked in, hoping she was asleep because it was getting late. But even with such desires, he didn't want to bother her. 

When Floyd found out Jess labeled him as the father of the child, for some reason Floyd was actually content. She was willing to name him - a man who's shown nearly all his bad sides to her - the father of her child. There were times where he deserved to be slapped for his actions. He'd screamed at her more times than he could recall, yet she remained by his side. But it wasn't for protection, she's shown she can handle herself. That's what Floyd couldn't comprehend, and still doesn't. He didn't understand why she felt the way she did for him. He was a lot older than her, yet she showed the signs to him. He still felt the heated tenderness of her lips on his. 

Soon enough, Floyd found his palm on the door of her door........silent..............motionless. His forehead also leaned against the wood, still he didn't make noise. He knew it wasn't right. Even that untrustworthy stranger stated the fact. 

[b]".....Something messed up if you were the little baby's daddy....."[/b] Abram had stated. 

But it was true. He was much older than her, much more mature. He was locked in a tans like no other, one he'd never felt before. He was battling against his conscience, and it was definitely winning at this time. It was telling him to push her away, to make sure she starts understanding that she was too young for him. Maybe at this point she didn't have an opportunity to be with a person her age, but being with Floyd wasn't any good for her, and that's what he was feeling. He couldn't be that child's father, nor father figure. What sort of image was Floyd, a man tattooed to the bone. He was basically a monster filled with undeniable rage. He was not good. So he didn't knock on her door. 

Instead, he started to walk away towards the other room, the child's room. He would sleep in there for the night. Before entering, he looked back towards the room Jess was in and nodded right and left with sorrow. He turned the knob and entered the child's room to sleep. It would bee a long quiet night.