Fic: Nail Polish (Heroes)
Title: Nail Polish
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing/Character: Nathan/Claire; Peter/Claire, Nathan/Heidi; implied: Peter/Simone.
Spoilers/Warnings: None, really.
Disclaimer: Not mine. ;/
Word Count: 1411.
Rating: PG.
Summary: He was always noticing the colour of her nails.
Notes: My first Heroes fic! :) The pairing - and, well, the creation - of this story is to be solely blamed on lostdreamer56 and fading_spark because of their Hero-y goodies! :).
I know nothing of Heidi, or how the characters meet up, so, for the sake of this mini-story, it’s AU. This is rather weird. XP. You don't have to be nice just because this is my first ever Heroes fic!. :p Feedback is looove!
-
When he first saw her, his eyes were instantly drawn to her hands.
She was quite a stunner; blonde, petite, youthful eyes and a body that, if he was several years younger, he'd possibly get the chance to touch. But his eyes were drawn to her hands.
Her nails, in particular.
They were neatly painted a pale pink. Her cuticles seemed flawless, a replica of her, and he knew, the next time he’d see her, he’d be curious about her nails.
He’d never thought, a politician like himself, would be fixated by the colour of a sixteen-year-old’s nails.
-
Peter had called him two hours ago, telling him to come to a loft in lower Manhattan as quick as he could. Nathan, of course, took his time, sweet-talking any possible voters, and charming many pretty - and, well, not very pretty - women into voting for the man with the charming smile.
He arrived at Isaac’s two hours after Peter’s message, to a small group of people crowding around a painting. Peter grabbed his forearm, and whispered frantically to him, “You’ve got to take her. He’s coming back to get her.”
Nathan turned to look at her, the girl whose nails had captivated him two months ago, and when he looked down at her hands clasped together, the pale pink replaced with a vicious apple red, he agreed.
-
Heidi didn’t appreciate the young teenager's sudden appearance in their home. Nathan couldn’t say no to Peter (which was a lie; he couldn’t say no to her), and, even though the rift between Heidi and himself grew, his attention was fixated on the blonde sitting by the window, watching the rain splash onto the glass, trying to enter a world that it simply did not belong in.
She had painted her nails a pale blue, he remembered she had asked if she could go to the store and buy something cheap and insignificant, just something that would remind her of home. Of course, Heidi had smiled and told her to be back soon, as if she was speaking to one of her boys, but as soon as the blonde had closed the door, Heidi voiced her displeasure.
It was then that Nathan noticed Heidi had stopped painting her nails.
-
Peter came by, a week after her appearance in his house, and made it seem like a usual family visit.
Except it wasn’t.
Peter didn’t usually come over, not anymore, not when the fights with Heidi were like hyenas attacking a dead carcass. Nathan knew what Peter wanted, and he was displeased when his brother had asked it.
“I wanted to see Claire. Is she here?”
Nathan didn’t lie like he’d prefer to, but he found himself telling Peter she was in the room up the stairs, with the pink ribbon taped to the door.
It was five simple minutes later that Peter and Claire walk down the stairs - together - hand in hand, smiling like they were normal, and that was when Nathan noticed Claire’s nails were bare.
The only evidence that she applied anything to them was the shiny invisible coat that gleamed whenever their hands would swing and hit the light.
-
He would always feel the bile rise up in his throat whenever they kissed. A simple peck, an innocent whisper, a familiar caress. It would send his body into wild chaos; his chest would tighten, his lungs would shrink, and his blood would evaporate from his veins.
Her nails were painted diagonally, with the colours of pure white and that vicious red she first wore when Peter had begged him to take her in. It was her school colours, the ones that matched her cheerleading outfit, and he was not sure if the panic in his stomach meant anything more than the evil stench of jealousy.
-
The call from the hospital set his nerves on fire. He didn’t take his time, like he had six weeks ago to Peter’s simple call. He arrived at the hospital as soon as he could - he was sure that if traffic was worse, he would’ve soared across the sky like an eagle.
Peter was slumped in a chair beside the bed. Nathan’s eyes had flown up to her smiling face that looked odd in the dull setting of the hospital. She was watching Peter closely, she giggled quietly as a snore elicited from between his lips, and Nathan couldn’t help but feel invisible.
If only he could turn back time and make her see him like she saw Peter.
Thirty minutes had passed when Nathan left the room to find himself a second cup of coffee, and when he returned, Peter was awake.
“You craving coffee?” She asked him, and Nathan just smirked and drank some more of the hot liquid. “Hospital coffee sucks. You should try Mom’s coffee. It’s so addictive.” She spoke to him like she was speaking to Hiro; a close friend.
“Yeah,” he said hopelessly, and he could see from the corner of his eye the weird look (eyebrow raised, lips parted) Peter was giving him.
“You should come over some day.”
Nathan found himself smiling, “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Claire sighed, and pressed her shiny lips together. She held her arms out, dangling her long fingers and sparkling nails in front of him, “Do you like my nails?” She smiled, a toothy grin that caused his own mouth to mimic it. “I couldn’t decide which colour, so I thought glitter might be a nice change.”
It didn’t matter that she was supposed to be dead when his mind took a mental note to buy her glitter nail polish the next time she ended up in a hospital bed.
-
Simone was dead, and Peter was a mess. Nathan should’ve known Peter wasn’t exactly over the woman he saw in just a simple shirt one morning. He knew Simone wasn’t one of those girls Pete could easily forget, but Nathan’s stomach boiled at the sound of Claire and Peter yelling in the younger Petrelli’s apartment.
Before he could even knock, the door almost collided with his face, “Not now, Nathan.” Peter gritted out angrily, sliding his arms fiercely into the arms of the jacket Nathan had once offered to replace.
His brother disappeared up the hall, and Nathan found himself shutting the apartment door behind him as he entered.
She was near the window again, coated in a warm orange glow.
“Hello Claire,” he greeted awkwardly as he approached the shaking teenager. It was the second time he’d witnessed tears streaking down her pretty face, and he didn’t have enough control to keep his hand at bay. His fingers caressed her wet cheeks, and her eyes fluttered shut.
“Why can’t he be more like you?” Her voice sounded like the wind, very quiet and almost unreal. Nathan sat down opposite her on the window sill.
He chuckled, “You wouldn’t be wishing that if you knew me like he did.”
“But I do know you, and the you I know is the you I want him to be,” a tear escaped from her eyes, and Nathan moved forward, almost on impulse, and kissed it gently away.
His mouth didn’t pull back, but kept trailing kisses down her cheek, eliminating the tears that clung to the skin he‘d longed to touch since the first day they‘d met. He felt warmth on his own cheek, stopping him from his continual movement. “Nathan,” she whispered, and there was no holding back.
Her lips moulded into his, slowly and gently. He moved unhurriedly, like as if he pushed her in anyway, she’d disappear. He felt her tongue press against his lips, and they parted without a second thought. Her hair was soft underneath his fingers, which wasn’t a surprise as he’d seen what kind of shampoo she’d used when she had been staying with him, but it was silky and smooth and unforbidden that it just made him stroke the blonde locks with a desire that couldn’t be cleansed away.
They broke apart, and he didn’t take the time to catch his breath as he kissed her fingers. His lips sloped up slightly at the sight of the colour that blended so well with the persona of Claire Bennet. They resembled a warmth that he wished was in his life - and now was.
Her nails were a pale orange, like the setting sun outside the simple glass window.
-
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing/Character: Nathan/Claire; Peter/Claire, Nathan/Heidi; implied: Peter/Simone.
Spoilers/Warnings: None, really.
Disclaimer: Not mine. ;/
Word Count: 1411.
Rating: PG.
Summary: He was always noticing the colour of her nails.
Notes: My first Heroes fic! :) The pairing - and, well, the creation - of this story is to be solely blamed on lostdreamer56 and fading_spark because of their Hero-y goodies! :).
I know nothing of Heidi, or how the characters meet up, so, for the sake of this mini-story, it’s AU. This is rather weird. XP. You don't have to be nice just because this is my first ever Heroes fic!. :p Feedback is looove!
-
When he first saw her, his eyes were instantly drawn to her hands.
She was quite a stunner; blonde, petite, youthful eyes and a body that, if he was several years younger, he'd possibly get the chance to touch. But his eyes were drawn to her hands.
Her nails, in particular.
They were neatly painted a pale pink. Her cuticles seemed flawless, a replica of her, and he knew, the next time he’d see her, he’d be curious about her nails.
He’d never thought, a politician like himself, would be fixated by the colour of a sixteen-year-old’s nails.
-
Peter had called him two hours ago, telling him to come to a loft in lower Manhattan as quick as he could. Nathan, of course, took his time, sweet-talking any possible voters, and charming many pretty - and, well, not very pretty - women into voting for the man with the charming smile.
He arrived at Isaac’s two hours after Peter’s message, to a small group of people crowding around a painting. Peter grabbed his forearm, and whispered frantically to him, “You’ve got to take her. He’s coming back to get her.”
Nathan turned to look at her, the girl whose nails had captivated him two months ago, and when he looked down at her hands clasped together, the pale pink replaced with a vicious apple red, he agreed.
-
Heidi didn’t appreciate the young teenager's sudden appearance in their home. Nathan couldn’t say no to Peter (which was a lie; he couldn’t say no to her), and, even though the rift between Heidi and himself grew, his attention was fixated on the blonde sitting by the window, watching the rain splash onto the glass, trying to enter a world that it simply did not belong in.
She had painted her nails a pale blue, he remembered she had asked if she could go to the store and buy something cheap and insignificant, just something that would remind her of home. Of course, Heidi had smiled and told her to be back soon, as if she was speaking to one of her boys, but as soon as the blonde had closed the door, Heidi voiced her displeasure.
It was then that Nathan noticed Heidi had stopped painting her nails.
-
Peter came by, a week after her appearance in his house, and made it seem like a usual family visit.
Except it wasn’t.
Peter didn’t usually come over, not anymore, not when the fights with Heidi were like hyenas attacking a dead carcass. Nathan knew what Peter wanted, and he was displeased when his brother had asked it.
“I wanted to see Claire. Is she here?”
Nathan didn’t lie like he’d prefer to, but he found himself telling Peter she was in the room up the stairs, with the pink ribbon taped to the door.
It was five simple minutes later that Peter and Claire walk down the stairs - together - hand in hand, smiling like they were normal, and that was when Nathan noticed Claire’s nails were bare.
The only evidence that she applied anything to them was the shiny invisible coat that gleamed whenever their hands would swing and hit the light.
-
He would always feel the bile rise up in his throat whenever they kissed. A simple peck, an innocent whisper, a familiar caress. It would send his body into wild chaos; his chest would tighten, his lungs would shrink, and his blood would evaporate from his veins.
Her nails were painted diagonally, with the colours of pure white and that vicious red she first wore when Peter had begged him to take her in. It was her school colours, the ones that matched her cheerleading outfit, and he was not sure if the panic in his stomach meant anything more than the evil stench of jealousy.
-
The call from the hospital set his nerves on fire. He didn’t take his time, like he had six weeks ago to Peter’s simple call. He arrived at the hospital as soon as he could - he was sure that if traffic was worse, he would’ve soared across the sky like an eagle.
Peter was slumped in a chair beside the bed. Nathan’s eyes had flown up to her smiling face that looked odd in the dull setting of the hospital. She was watching Peter closely, she giggled quietly as a snore elicited from between his lips, and Nathan couldn’t help but feel invisible.
If only he could turn back time and make her see him like she saw Peter.
Thirty minutes had passed when Nathan left the room to find himself a second cup of coffee, and when he returned, Peter was awake.
“You craving coffee?” She asked him, and Nathan just smirked and drank some more of the hot liquid. “Hospital coffee sucks. You should try Mom’s coffee. It’s so addictive.” She spoke to him like she was speaking to Hiro; a close friend.
“Yeah,” he said hopelessly, and he could see from the corner of his eye the weird look (eyebrow raised, lips parted) Peter was giving him.
“You should come over some day.”
Nathan found himself smiling, “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Claire sighed, and pressed her shiny lips together. She held her arms out, dangling her long fingers and sparkling nails in front of him, “Do you like my nails?” She smiled, a toothy grin that caused his own mouth to mimic it. “I couldn’t decide which colour, so I thought glitter might be a nice change.”
It didn’t matter that she was supposed to be dead when his mind took a mental note to buy her glitter nail polish the next time she ended up in a hospital bed.
-
Simone was dead, and Peter was a mess. Nathan should’ve known Peter wasn’t exactly over the woman he saw in just a simple shirt one morning. He knew Simone wasn’t one of those girls Pete could easily forget, but Nathan’s stomach boiled at the sound of Claire and Peter yelling in the younger Petrelli’s apartment.
Before he could even knock, the door almost collided with his face, “Not now, Nathan.” Peter gritted out angrily, sliding his arms fiercely into the arms of the jacket Nathan had once offered to replace.
His brother disappeared up the hall, and Nathan found himself shutting the apartment door behind him as he entered.
She was near the window again, coated in a warm orange glow.
“Hello Claire,” he greeted awkwardly as he approached the shaking teenager. It was the second time he’d witnessed tears streaking down her pretty face, and he didn’t have enough control to keep his hand at bay. His fingers caressed her wet cheeks, and her eyes fluttered shut.
“Why can’t he be more like you?” Her voice sounded like the wind, very quiet and almost unreal. Nathan sat down opposite her on the window sill.
He chuckled, “You wouldn’t be wishing that if you knew me like he did.”
“But I do know you, and the you I know is the you I want him to be,” a tear escaped from her eyes, and Nathan moved forward, almost on impulse, and kissed it gently away.
His mouth didn’t pull back, but kept trailing kisses down her cheek, eliminating the tears that clung to the skin he‘d longed to touch since the first day they‘d met. He felt warmth on his own cheek, stopping him from his continual movement. “Nathan,” she whispered, and there was no holding back.
Her lips moulded into his, slowly and gently. He moved unhurriedly, like as if he pushed her in anyway, she’d disappear. He felt her tongue press against his lips, and they parted without a second thought. Her hair was soft underneath his fingers, which wasn’t a surprise as he’d seen what kind of shampoo she’d used when she had been staying with him, but it was silky and smooth and unforbidden that it just made him stroke the blonde locks with a desire that couldn’t be cleansed away.
They broke apart, and he didn’t take the time to catch his breath as he kissed her fingers. His lips sloped up slightly at the sight of the colour that blended so well with the persona of Claire Bennet. They resembled a warmth that he wished was in his life - and now was.
Her nails were a pale orange, like the setting sun outside the simple glass window.
-