The Sleepover Chapter 3 Part 1
Mohinder desperately needed a cold shower. Not only had he just been on his knees in front a terrifyingly handsome mass murderer only a few moments earlier, but his chest and pajama pants were covered in drying semen. He had looked up at Sylar, eyes huge with fear, but Sylar had only chuckled, patted Mohinder’s curly hair, and walked out of the ( Read more... )
This was the most fucked-up situation he had ever been in, and that topped going on a road-trip with a serial killer. Why did these things always have to do with Sylar? Why didn’t he move after Sylar killed Peter? Why was Sylar seducing him and WHY did some part deep down in Mohinder like it? Finally he heard the door open and close and he shivered, wondering who would die today.
Aaaaaah, Mylar.
He loved how Mohinder had a completely black and white view of how the world worked. The good were righteous, they loved, they laughed, they never did anything wrong. The bad lived in their deep dark lairs, plotting the demise of the good twenty-four hours a day. They didn’t eat, they didn’t sleep, and they certainly didn’t love. He couldn’t understand that the world was gray, everything blended together, there wasn’t good, and there wasn’t evil.
*cough* Anti-hero *cough*
“I think you’re too pretty to be in this neighborhood. How about we make you look like you belong here?”
IF YOU HURT HIS PRETTY, PRETTY FACE YOU SICK F- *notices you* Oh, sorry … *hides under the table*
“What the fuck?” A feminine voice, the only girl in their little gang shrilly squeaked.
Nice touch …
“They were going to kill you. They don’t deserve to live.”
I fail to see how that is not true.
Sylar’s face remained impassive as he forcefully grabbed Mohinder’s chin and forced him to look into his frightening eyes. His black eyes narrowed, and Mohinder felt as if he was staring into hell itself.
Ooooooo … very nice …
“Are you alright?” He asked, the fire instantly gone from his eyes.
He no longer looked like a killer, just a man worried for another human being. Mohinder was sickened by the compassion written in the other man’s face
Ouch.
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