This is what boyfriends are for, right?

[notarrowette]

Who: Cissie and Sylar
What: ...Cissie's a little tipsy, angry at Tim, and hurting. Abandonment issues are go.
Where: Sylar's room
When: Sunday night
Warnings: ...Sylar dealing with emotions?

Comments

[gray_atonement]

Sylar wasn't expecting anyone and that's why when the knock came at his door, he stared at it for a moment in confusion. He had been reading, lost in a book, and he wondered for a moment if he had imagined the knock. Then the killer rose from the bed and stood in the middle of his room. Finally, he lifted a hand to open the door from a distance, the knob turning and the door pulling forward at his silent command.

His brow furrowed when he saw Cissie there and he slowly moved forward as his hand fell back to his side. It occurred to him that many of her friends had left as well, despite that his mind was busy worried about Tim.

Of course, there was always the possibility that something else was going on. "Are you alright?"

[notarrowette]

Cissie leaned against the doorjamb, her expression something close to a pout. "Yes. No. Yes." She stopped, frowning and considering the question. It was surprisingly complicated.

"...Can I come in?"

[gray_atonement]

"Of course," he responded without hesitation, almost with a hint of accusation; how dare she think otherwise. That attitude faded as quickly as it had come, however, and then he was moving to close the door behind her. The movement brought him nearer to her and, once the door locked behind them both with only a short glance, he stepped up in front of her.

The inmate's head dipped to bring him down to her height for a moment, checking her expression carefully to see where she might be at and what she might be feelings. There was something about her that was off, more than just being upset.

[notarrowette]

The accusation went right over her head, thanks to the rum, and being tired and moody. But she came into the room, and when he was close enough, she stepped in to hug him, burying her face against his shoulder and pressing close to him. Before she did, however, he could probably spot the fact that she'd been crying not too long ago, and her eyes were a little glazed.

She also had powered sugar on her forehead and in her hair, a spot of chocolate on one cheek, and she smelled like rum, because some had spilled on her shirt. But what mattered to her right now was that he was there and she could hold on.

[gray_atonement]

Sylar was taken aback only for an instant, a reflex more than anything else as a part of him still was and would always be a killer first, but then he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight into him. He noticed, of course, all of the signs of baking, although he associated the rum smell with straight drinking rather than simply baking. It only concerned him more for her.

He lifted a hand to wipe the chocolate from her cheek and onto his jeans, then ran his fingers through her hair to try to get rid of some of the powdered sugar. The inmate wasn't entirely oblivious to how upset she was, but he figured it was an easier problem to fix how dirty she was rather than how upset. "You should have called me to your room. I don't have a shower."

[notarrowette]

Cissie pulled back to look at him, wrinkling her nose in confusion. Her expression might have been a pout. "Why do we need a shower?"

[gray_atonement]

Though his lips were set into a frown when she looked up at him, he stayed that way for only a split second before nearly devolving into laughter. Instead, he tempered the humor down to a small smile and then waited a beat as if to test if she might answer her own question before indulging her with his own response. "We don't need one."

Sylar honestly didn't particularly want her in his bed for as dirty as she was, so he gently began moving over toward the couch, encouraging her to follow him by still keeping one arm around her waist. "Come one. Let's sit down. Then you can tell me what it is that has you... not entirely sober."

[notarrowette]

Cissie pouted while he laughed at her and put her hands on her hips. But her irritation was short lived, and when he began leading her toward the couch, she let him. She shook her head emphatically, almost making herself dizzy, and wrinkled her nose.

"No! I'm not--not sober! I'm not drunk," she corrected herself, poking his shoulder for emphasis. "We made cookies and rum balls. I ate them. Not all of them though, I promise."

[gray_atonement]

"Enough," he mused as he fell back to sit on the couch. His hands gently encouraged her to sit across his lap, but he would not force her, of course, and would hardly even push for it if she began to go otherwise. Sylar wanted the control, yes, but he was confident that he had that here regardless of where she sat or what she did, if only because he was sober.

Still, the inmate was actually smiling at her, especially as she poked him. "Who were you with?"

[notarrowette]

Cissie let him pull her onto hip lap, partly because she didn't really care where she was sitting, and partly because she did want to be close to him. She leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Molly. And Martha and Partker and that Wanda girl, and... I think there were other people. Oh, Claire. She brought her dog. That didn't seem very hygenic."

[gray_atonement]

Sylar wrapped one arm around her back and waist to hold her against him, the other resting on her legs. He watched her, torn between humor and contempt at her being drunk. There was a part of him that would forgive her for nearly anything, but it was somewhat sad to watch. He laughed at the remark about the dog, a smirk twisting his lips.

"No, it's not. I doubt Claire thinks of those things." It was a subtle comment on the girl's ability and immunity.

The inmate was mainly just allowing Cissie time and room to talk, but he would, in fact, actually listen and try to make appropriate commentary.