Date: 2009-10-28 11:31 pm (UTC)
The moment they were in the room, she yanked away from him, his touch crawling uncomfortably (or maybe too comfortably) over her skin. She shed his jacket like it was infected and headed as dignified as she could, naked and wobbling, into the bathroom. Elle slammed the door behind her, pointedly. And locked it, pointedly.

He had to know she was mad. And everything she did would remind him of it until the second she left. If she couldn't kill him, making him feel like shit would do.

She nearly gagged at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was tangled and frizzy, and everywhere, she was covered in dirt and grime and--Elle turned straight to the bathtub, lowering herself to sit, more willing than ever to be near water.
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Sylar

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