Whatever shreds of a good mood he'd managed to gain hold of over the weekend faded quickly come Monday morning, as he walked into a department in absolute chaos over a mistake some intern had made over the weekend. Suddenly, Sylar was seen as having seniority - the first time since the takeover of the Ministry he hadn't reveled in it. Sometimes, he thought it might have been better before the Death Eaters had come to power. Sure, he had more freedom now to indulge his less than savory urges, but he seemed to be spending less and less time in the field actually working a case. And then, after he finally left work, there was always the possibility that he'd have to deal with Cassandra and his own apparent shortcomings as a fiancé. He couldn't catch a break.
It was this combination that had him stopping off at the bar after work, meeting the few people whose company he actually enjoyed and coming home late enough to stave off most arguments should the need arise. His liver surely wasn't thanking him, but it was the least of his concerns at the moment. He'd left late that evening, and Diagon Alley was darkening already by the time he apparated in. Sylar turned the collar of his coat up against the blossoming chill as the sun set, quickening his steps in an attempt to get to the Leaky that much faster. But his life didn’t ever seem to be that easy, anymore, and as someone stepped into his path he all but howled in frustration, his glare darkening exponentially when he brought his gaze up and realized it was Daisy. He wasn’t in a good enough move to even toy with her today. “Move.” He snapped.
@dxisy-hxxkum
