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The note on the door had been three simple words (on the roof) and he'd followed them and Peter's scent, heading up countless flights of stairs to find him sitting on the half-wall that ran the length of the edge. He stood there for a long time, motionless and clearly unnoticed, watching him, and then finally crossed the distance to meet him, making enough noise to draw attention to himself. Peter half-turned to glance back at him, though he did not smile -- possibly because the first words out of Sylar's mouth were unhappy ones.
"You don't want me in your apartment."
He shook his head. "It's not like that, it's just ... rooftops seem to be kinda big thing for us. It felt right, you know?"
It wasn't a lie, not so much that it sent tiny shock waves down his spine as the words tripped his ability to discern them, but there was something about the way he could hear Peter's heart rate climb slowly that made him wonder. He tilted his head to one side, sifting through the empath's surface thoughts, but all he came back with was a smattering of memories of the things that had happened in places like this. Union Wells. Peter's conversation with Nathan, with him, before he'd let his hand slip out of Peter's and fell to true, final death. A snippet of one of their talks on the roof of his own apartment building when they'd been stuck in his head.
He frowned faintly, wanting to press deeper, but Peter had been on the receiving end of telepathy so many times he doubted he'd get much more without the other man yelling at him to get out of his head, and with the faint lines of tension he could read in the way Peter sat and under the surface of his thoughts, he decided not to press it. This was not the thoughtless, relieved meeting of the other night, nor was it just another day of the near perfect state of sync being trapped in his subconscious had gifted them. Peter was nervous, uncertain as to how to act around him, and if he was being honest, he wasn't sure he was much better.
( He forced himself to sit down on the edge of the roof next to him and shifted to face him. )
Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 1461
Note: Peter is![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hadtobeahero and is used with permission.
"You don't want me in your apartment."
He shook his head. "It's not like that, it's just ... rooftops seem to be kinda big thing for us. It felt right, you know?"
It wasn't a lie, not so much that it sent tiny shock waves down his spine as the words tripped his ability to discern them, but there was something about the way he could hear Peter's heart rate climb slowly that made him wonder. He tilted his head to one side, sifting through the empath's surface thoughts, but all he came back with was a smattering of memories of the things that had happened in places like this. Union Wells. Peter's conversation with Nathan, with him, before he'd let his hand slip out of Peter's and fell to true, final death. A snippet of one of their talks on the roof of his own apartment building when they'd been stuck in his head.
He frowned faintly, wanting to press deeper, but Peter had been on the receiving end of telepathy so many times he doubted he'd get much more without the other man yelling at him to get out of his head, and with the faint lines of tension he could read in the way Peter sat and under the surface of his thoughts, he decided not to press it. This was not the thoughtless, relieved meeting of the other night, nor was it just another day of the near perfect state of sync being trapped in his subconscious had gifted them. Peter was nervous, uncertain as to how to act around him, and if he was being honest, he wasn't sure he was much better.
( He forced himself to sit down on the edge of the roof next to him and shifted to face him. )
Muse: Gabriel Gray (Sylar)
Fandom: Heroes
Word Count: 1461
Note: Peter is
hadtobeahero and is used with permission.
