"I’m not sure you’d like to know the man I was.” Jelco said bluntly, deflecting the question. He had done some...questionable things in the past, and even speaking of them made him tense up.
“As for who I wanted to be, I can’t say I was ever given a chance to find that out.” He answered after a moment. “My...father,” he spat the word out as though it had poisoned him, “saw me as nothing but a tool he could use for his own ends. Those I worked for did the same.” A brow quirked upwards, his posture shifting in an attempt to appear relaxed, as if he were calm and in control of the situation. Old habits die hard, he supposed. Years of repressing his emotions hadn’t exactly made it easy for him to open up. His eyes met Charles’, an invitation, a warning. He might not have been aware of his telepathy, but he knew when someone was attempting to gauge him. To discern if he was to be trusted or not. If he was dangerous.