133 [voice]

[cautionarytale]

You think anybody ever really changes?

[She sounds SO BITTER. She sniffles, not like she's crying but rather like she's just had the longest day of her life, everything hurts, and her nose is running. For a second, it sounds like she's about to answer her own question, but she stops herself.]


[private to Sylar]

If you want your shirt back, come and get it.


[ooc: Elle's back, updated to her actual canon death in "The Eclipse Part 2."]

Comments

Private~

[cautionarystory.livejournal.com]

You know, that thing you wear on your upper body.

Private~

[grayatonement]

[Ponderponder] You were gone. [Click..click..] ..You went home. [Click..click..]

I killed you.

Private~

[cautionarystory.livejournal.com]

Congrats, Sherlock, you figured it out.

You want your shirt back or not?

Private~

[grayatonement]

But you remember here? Before?

[He doesn't really care, but he wants to see her.]

Yes. Now?

Private~

[cautionarystory.livejournal.com]

Yeah. I remember. And yeah, now's good.

Spam~

[grayatonement]

[And a minute later, or less, there's a knock on your door from your friendly, neighborhood Sylar. He lives next door, after all.]

Spam~

[cautionarystory.livejournal.com]

[Elle opens the door. She's cleaned herself up and changed. Sylar's shirt is tossed over the back of her desk chair.

She doesn't know whether she wants to kill him or kiss him, so she just stares up at him with her eyebrows raised.]

Spam~

[grayatonement]

[Sylar glides past her to let himself in, if she'll allow it, glancing from her to his shirt and back again. It's practically a distant memory for him, having happened before the first time he came here -- the good parts, anyway -- that he has trouble remembering all of it. What he remembers is arriving in love with her when she was dating Peter.]

"Do you wish you could have stayed there, if you hadn't died?" [He's curious what's going on in her mind right now.]

Spam~

[cautionarystory.livejournal.com]

"Are you asking if I wish I could've lived happily every after with you?" [she said coyly, swinging the door shut and leaning back against it.]

Spam~

[grayatonement]

[Sylar actually laughs at that.] "No. Although I wouldn't mind an answer to that as well. Would you rather have been there, with Arthur and Peter, than here, on the Barge?"

Spam~

[cautionarystory.livejournal.com]

[She rolls her eyes.] "I'd rather be pretty much anywhere than on the barge."

[Pushing away from the door, she slips past him and picks the shirt up off the chair. It's still specked with blood and sand. She holds it up at chest height, but keeps it close to her. If he wants it, he's going to have to come and get it.]

"You want this, or not?" [she asks, a smile playing across her lips.]

Spam~ Sorry my writing sucks right now. :C

[grayatonement]

[Sylar saunters slowly forward to where she's standing, lifting his hands but ensuring they never actually touch her as he comes closer to her. He moves to within only a half-step away and smirks down at her.] "Over Peter already?"

Spam~ Don't even worry about it <3

[cautionarystory.livejournal.com]

[Elle isn't sure whether she is over Peter or not. She misses him, and she wants him to come back, but she's at least prepared to accept that he never will. And what she had with Sylar over the past few days... maybe it wasn't quite normal, and she's gotten the sense that Howie, at least, doesn't think it's quite healthy, but it wasn't fake.

Instead of being coy or skirting around the issue, she decides to answer Sylar honestly.] "I don't know."

Spam~

[grayatonement]

[He raises an eyebrow at that, surprised by the honest answer. The smirk fades to something more natural, more neutral. Elle isn't fun to play with when she's not playing back, so he reconsiders and eventually opts for less provoking.] "And us?"

[Sylar lifts his hands to either side of Elle's waist, pressing his shirt against her as he does.]

Spam~

[cautionarystory.livejournal.com]

"You killed me," [she reminds him, almost teasingly. Her hands, still holding the shirt, come to rest against his chest. She doesn't blame him, and maybe Howie's right: maybe that is messed up.]

Spam~

[grayatonement]

[Sylar drops his head into an acknowledgment of the truth.] "Well.. we had a good time before that."

[The killer straightens and stares down at her, teasing her, wanting her to admit all over again how much she wants this-- wants him. She's the one thing he's never gotten that he truly wanted.]