The Real Cosmic Joke| PSL with electrocutesy

[evolutionaryimperative]

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?

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[electrocutesy.livejournal.com]

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?"