the_muses_stage prompt set 30.2.b [lyrics prompt]
Walking, stumbling on these shadowfeet // Toward home, a land that I've never seen // I am changing: less and less asleep // Made of different stuff than when I began // And I have sensed it all along fast approaching is the day // When the world has fallen out from under me // I'll be found in you, still standing // When the sky rolls up and mountains fall on their knees // When time and space are through, I'll be found in you -- "Shadowfeet" - Brooke Fraser
The flower was perfect despite the fact that it shouldn’t have been alive.
As she studied it, Claire tried to figure out where he had found it and why he had given it to her. It should have been dead, locked beneath the ice and snow somewhere but there it was in the palm of her hand. It was delicate with its velvety rose petals and the thorns that acted as its own personal defense. Probably to deter anyone from picking it but he had done so, for her. He had given it to her to make her smile and yet she had acted like he had somehow made a mistake in offering her such a nice gift.
As she glanced over at the bed, she could tell that he wasn’t actually asleep though he was doing his best to seem like he was. He was too tense and his breathing was too shallow for her to actually buy it but she didn’t say anything to him. He had his back to her and she had hers to him, so there was no communication in their tiny trailer. They were only a few feet apart but there might have been the entire world and for some reason it bothered her.
Turning around, she fought back the urge to sigh as she worried the puff of air would somehow disturb the silence and instead she focused back on the flower in front of her. It really was perfect; the soft texture was pleasing against her fingertips and the scent was prettier than any perfume she could have ever gotten from anyone but the gift haunted her slightly. It was a personal gift after all, one that he had put some sort of thought into even if he had picked it on a whim. He could have kept it for himself because the man she knew wasn’t really the giving type but he had given it to her. He had shared its beauty with her and she had pretty much slapped him in the face with his kindness because she couldn’t look past the face before her. In the end, she had been no better than him or the monster she had known.
Frustrated mainly with herself, she quickly rose to her feet and stepped over to the little kitchen area as she reached up to get a glass that could double as a vase. As she filled the makeshift vase with some water, she glanced over at the man in the bed again and she pressed her lips in a tight line as she turned the water off. Moving back to the table, she set the glass down back against the edge and then reached to pick up the flower once more.
Lifting the face of the flower to her own, she brought her nose close to the scented center and she let the perfume roll over her once more. For a moment, she merely allowed herself to be content as she finally opened her heart to accept the gift before sticking it in the small vase. Maybe she would ask Samuel about keeping it alive, as a sort of symbol of something that was starting to happen though she didn’t allow herself to look at it closely.
Turning around, she walked to the bed then and pressed her knee to the edge before reaching over to touch Sylar’s shoulder. “Nate?” She murmured his chosen name and she wasn’t surprised to see him wide awake as he rolled onto his back to look at her curiously.
He was about to ask her something but she silenced him and surprised herself as she leaned down to press a soft kiss to the curve of his cheek. Just a little touch that could have almost been missed but the surprise that echoed her own was written across his features as she pulled back to sit on her backside on the edge of the bed.
“Wha...what was that for?” He murmured as he touched his fingertips to his cheek.
“That was ‘thank you’, for my gift.” She clarified as she looked over at the flower that sat in its own little place within their trailer, turned ever so slightly towards them with its petals reaching out. “It’s perfect.” She nodded as she looked back at him before rising off of the bed.
“Claire...” He reached out to catch her hand but no words followed as he held her fingers tightly within his own. The silence stretched for a heartbeat or two till sudden laughter from outside the trailer startled them into letting go. The sound of Samuel’s booming voice caused Claire to turn her head and she quickly latched onto the sudden chance to escape the trailer that suddenly felt too small.
“I should catch up to Samuel and ask him where we can get some decorations for our tree.” She murmured, stepping back from the bed and the presence of the man that threatened to overwhelm her.
He didn’t stop her as she rushed out the door and she knew she had left him just as confused as she felt but she needed some sanity in that moment as she hurried off to find the leader of their little vagabond troupe. At least they had some made some progress tonight, Sylar and herself, but she had no idea where that left them except for the fact that the hate she felt for him suddenly didn’t feel so strong.
[Sylar is heroslayer, and is used with love and permission. In response to this prompt]
The flower was perfect despite the fact that it shouldn’t have been alive.
As she studied it, Claire tried to figure out where he had found it and why he had given it to her. It should have been dead, locked beneath the ice and snow somewhere but there it was in the palm of her hand. It was delicate with its velvety rose petals and the thorns that acted as its own personal defense. Probably to deter anyone from picking it but he had done so, for her. He had given it to her to make her smile and yet she had acted like he had somehow made a mistake in offering her such a nice gift.
As she glanced over at the bed, she could tell that he wasn’t actually asleep though he was doing his best to seem like he was. He was too tense and his breathing was too shallow for her to actually buy it but she didn’t say anything to him. He had his back to her and she had hers to him, so there was no communication in their tiny trailer. They were only a few feet apart but there might have been the entire world and for some reason it bothered her.
Turning around, she fought back the urge to sigh as she worried the puff of air would somehow disturb the silence and instead she focused back on the flower in front of her. It really was perfect; the soft texture was pleasing against her fingertips and the scent was prettier than any perfume she could have ever gotten from anyone but the gift haunted her slightly. It was a personal gift after all, one that he had put some sort of thought into even if he had picked it on a whim. He could have kept it for himself because the man she knew wasn’t really the giving type but he had given it to her. He had shared its beauty with her and she had pretty much slapped him in the face with his kindness because she couldn’t look past the face before her. In the end, she had been no better than him or the monster she had known.
Frustrated mainly with herself, she quickly rose to her feet and stepped over to the little kitchen area as she reached up to get a glass that could double as a vase. As she filled the makeshift vase with some water, she glanced over at the man in the bed again and she pressed her lips in a tight line as she turned the water off. Moving back to the table, she set the glass down back against the edge and then reached to pick up the flower once more.
Lifting the face of the flower to her own, she brought her nose close to the scented center and she let the perfume roll over her once more. For a moment, she merely allowed herself to be content as she finally opened her heart to accept the gift before sticking it in the small vase. Maybe she would ask Samuel about keeping it alive, as a sort of symbol of something that was starting to happen though she didn’t allow herself to look at it closely.
Turning around, she walked to the bed then and pressed her knee to the edge before reaching over to touch Sylar’s shoulder. “Nate?” She murmured his chosen name and she wasn’t surprised to see him wide awake as he rolled onto his back to look at her curiously.
He was about to ask her something but she silenced him and surprised herself as she leaned down to press a soft kiss to the curve of his cheek. Just a little touch that could have almost been missed but the surprise that echoed her own was written across his features as she pulled back to sit on her backside on the edge of the bed.
“Wha...what was that for?” He murmured as he touched his fingertips to his cheek.
“That was ‘thank you’, for my gift.” She clarified as she looked over at the flower that sat in its own little place within their trailer, turned ever so slightly towards them with its petals reaching out. “It’s perfect.” She nodded as she looked back at him before rising off of the bed.
“Claire...” He reached out to catch her hand but no words followed as he held her fingers tightly within his own. The silence stretched for a heartbeat or two till sudden laughter from outside the trailer startled them into letting go. The sound of Samuel’s booming voice caused Claire to turn her head and she quickly latched onto the sudden chance to escape the trailer that suddenly felt too small.
“I should catch up to Samuel and ask him where we can get some decorations for our tree.” She murmured, stepping back from the bed and the presence of the man that threatened to overwhelm her.
He didn’t stop her as she rushed out the door and she knew she had left him just as confused as she felt but she needed some sanity in that moment as she hurried off to find the leader of their little vagabond troupe. At least they had some made some progress tonight, Sylar and herself, but she had no idea where that left them except for the fact that the hate she felt for him suddenly didn’t feel so strong.
[Sylar is heroslayer, and is used with love and permission. In response to this prompt]