BAD THINGS.
he smirks at her— and how she cannot back down an inch or shift her resolve to another truth than the one she has known for so long.
“Try to kill me,” he corrects Claire.
Then—— a shrug.
"We’ve bonded. Sharing a mind prison of isolation, for three years, does that. And so does helping him with the carnival, by saving Emma and tying up the puppetmaster in a nice red bow.”
that made him grin like a gleeful child.
”Literally.”
"Well, I have time.” She counter backs. A simple truth given their anatomy and unnatural long life spam but such a charged statement that derails the spirit. One she has trouble accepting and certainly will never fully embrace. The eerily sounds of the city can do nothing to fill in on the silence that follows immediately after his proclaim.
No. Sylar is not a hero. Furthermore Sylar is not a hero in Peter’s eyes.
“You expect me to believe that?” The blonde huffs indignantly, nose scrunching up in a gesture that hopefully conceives how disgusted she is by the mere notion that Sylar bonding with Peter arouses within her.
“Not two days ago you threatened my life and my friend’s and now you what? Jump onto the hero bandwagon and suddenly you’re Peter’s best friend?! Save me the part in where I have to listen to your delusions. There’s no way it’s been three years. I still have glass from the window pane you blew under my bed!”
