evolutionaryimperative | The Real Cosmic Joke| PSL with electrocutesy

Sylar woke up the next morning with his arms wrapped her, holding Elle close to him. They were both sweaty and sticky from the previous night’s activities. They had basically kept going at it until they passed out; distracting each other from any thoughts or feelings as except how good they could make each other feel. He couldn’t help but smirk as he noticed some of the bruises and scratches that adorned her body, physical proof that she had given herself completely to him, just like she had promised.

He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a comfort having her. But somehow, he managed to detangle himself from her, sliding his pants back on before making his way into the tiny kitchen like area of the motel room to make himself a coffee. Though he had been too preoccupied last night to really think about his family or what to do next, but his thoughts were drifting back there now.

They shouldn’t linger her too long, the last thing he needed was Angela or Noah tracing them and discovering he was still alive. Which meant he probably couldn’t kill anyone for a while either, if he wanted to stay under their radar while trying to track his father, Martin, down.
Frustrating, but he would live with it.

As the coffee began to drip into the pot he glanced back at Elle’s form on the bed. She’d probably tell him they didn’t need to do any of this again, that he didn’t need to know who his parents were or where he came from, but he did. How else could he know who he really was?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It had been kind of hard getting sleep the past few weeks, for obvious reasons. Other than bottles of aspirin being a poor substitute for the pain medication she needed for her stupid leg, it was just hard to lay down and rest after all Sylar had said to her that night. Not that she curled in a little ball in cheap motel rooms and cried herself to sleep every night like a little sad girl, but maybe if she were honest (which she wasn't), she might have a least shed a tear or two. That was, if she hadn't been so determined to keep going, to get back to him. Getting back at him for being such an asshole.

But she slept now. Elle was never a morning person in the first place and she was tired. From all the chasing and all the... other things they did after she snared him right back up. She woke up with a soft moan to sun filtering through the windows, nestled in the covers and sore when she shifted, because he wasn't next to her. But she heard him, or heard someone, and blearily she rolled over to smirk at him watching her. Like the freaky creeper he was.

"Morning, sweetie," she murmured, her voice tart. "Like the view?"

It's not like he had been watching her the whole time. Okay..so he had been watching her part of the time, just like he had watched her until he fell asleep last night...but that didn't make him a creeper. Or maybe it did. He didn't really care, one way or another.

"It's certainly not a bad one," He mused with a smirk as he began to pour himself a cup of coffee. "Did you sleep well?" He couldn't imagine she didn't, not with how thoroughly they had worn each other out last night.

"Like a rock," she quipped, wiggling her toes as she yawned and stretched. But she wasn't ready to get out of bed, not by a long shot. Stretching meant realizing certain parts of her were deliciously bruised and scratched and remembering how a certain part of him had been sort of like a rock all night. Her smile curved deviously, and she bit her bottom lip coyly as she gazed at him. "Got any coffee for me?"

"I think I might be able to be persuaded to get you some," He mused with a smirk, taking a sip from his cup before setting his down. "Let me guess, you like yours with tons of cream and sugar so it's absolutely undrinkable?" His eyes glanced over at her as stretched out again, unable to suppress the pride he felt at her scratches and bruises.

It wasn't that difficult to catch that flash in his eyes, and it made something in her tighten and flush, even if she wasn't sure exactly what it was, other than the heat of his attention. "No," she murmured with a small, innocent pout, "I like it with tons of cream and sugar so it's just drinkable enough, silly."

"It's drinkable enough the way it is," He commented as he poured her a mug, mixing in the cream and sugar. It smelled way too sweet him, but he knew that meant it was perfect for her. He picked it up along with his mug, carefully making his way back to the bed and sitting down. He handed her her cup.

"Says you," she muttered childishly, taking the warm mug from his hands. She zapped his fingers a little as they brushed, her eyes lighting with flirtatious amusement as she brought the rim of the cup to her lips. It was perfect, of course. Well, maybe it could have used a little more sugar. "So are you going to apologize for roughing me up last night?"

"I wasn't planning on it," He quipped, letting his hand slip down to brush against some of the scratches on her back. "I don't see why I should apologize when you enjoyed every moment of it." And she had. So had he. It had been...unlike anything else he had experienced.

"Because it hurt," she whined, but she didn't mean it in a bad way. "You were mean," she accused, shifting into his light touch and shuddering at the gentle sting when his fingertips dipped into a harsh scratch. It made her frown inwardly, looking at his smooth shoulders, his perfect skin. She couldn't admire it later, not even a little bit. Maybe for two seconds and then he was as good as new.

"But you liked it," He cooed softly, his smirk spreading as he fingered his work. It was a little unfair sure that he was left without a scratch, but he didn't really care either. "You even begged me for more a few times."

The Real Cosmic Joke| PSL with electrocutesy

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject