Yearnings
TITLE: Yearnings
FANDOM: Heroes
SUMMARY: Four years. That's how long he goes without a lover's touch.
CHARACTER(S): Peter Petrelli, undertones of Elle
GENRE: Comfort/Hurt
RATING: T
A/N: Thanks & gratitude to the awesome
retroblair for the beta touch, & for the title idea.
ETA: This fic got First place at
heroes_contest for the challenge 'Forever'! So extra kudos to retroblair & everyone who voted!
Four years.
That’s how long he goes without a lover’s touch, without a woman to satisfy his needs, how long it takes for him to take a step forward.
If one were to ask and extract an answer from him, of whether he has moved on from the loss he so obviously carries, he would answer, “I’ve only lost myself more.”
When he looks at a woman, within those four years, it's at the brunettes, raven-haired, red-heads, etc.--as long as they aren’t blonds, he allows himself to look and lust mentally.
Because the more they look like her, the guiltier he feels, and the deeper his pain and mourning.
Conversely, his desire for her seeps too deeply, so those girls he looks at usually wear smirks, grins, or tantalizing smiles like she once did. But their eyes do not sparkle with that mixture of mischief and affection, therefore those he allows himself to watch.
However, four years without the sensual touch of a lover, without hot skin on his or without a woman to pour his emotions into are too much. But he hates that it’s a petite blond with an animated giggle, and dark blue eyes that is the first he lays with.
She looks similar to her and her voice has that air of innocence, but touch of mystery that accompanies the feather light tone of trouble. Except for the eyes--they are a gloomy blue. Hers were a lucid blue, reminiscent of clear blue oceans surrounding tropical islands.
He leaves before the girl awakens, takes off to his makeshift home outside the city, and decides to learn the date in time.
Since he’s had to make a life without the ones he holds closest to his heart, he hasn’t had it in him to keep track of minutes, hours, or days. The year, however, is always obvious--no matter the setting, the people always celebrate a new year of life.
He only has to flip on a television and look at the information guide. He reads the day of the week, then the numerical day, finally reaches the month, and hastily turns the television off.
For a moment he is immobile, just lets himself process two facts-one, that for the first time in 67 years, he has slept with someone who is not her, and two that this day marks 91 years since her arrival into the world.
“Happy birthday, babe,” he whispers into the air after he gathers himself.
He lifts himself from the bed and goes in for a shower, whilst trying to grasp the fragments of his vicarious life. Once out of the shower, he clasps to his chest his wedding ring that hangs on a necklace chain, and sends a soft jolt to embrace it.
A faint, sad, but tender smile crosses his features. The moment passes, and he continues with his routine, still attempting as best he can to sanely live eternally without the love of his life.
FANDOM: Heroes
SUMMARY: Four years. That's how long he goes without a lover's touch.
CHARACTER(S): Peter Petrelli, undertones of Elle
GENRE: Comfort/Hurt
RATING: T
A/N: Thanks & gratitude to the awesome
retroblair for the beta touch, & for the title idea.
ETA: This fic got First place at
heroes_contest for the challenge 'Forever'! So extra kudos to retroblair & everyone who voted!
Four years.
That’s how long he goes without a lover’s touch, without a woman to satisfy his needs, how long it takes for him to take a step forward.
If one were to ask and extract an answer from him, of whether he has moved on from the loss he so obviously carries, he would answer, “I’ve only lost myself more.”
When he looks at a woman, within those four years, it's at the brunettes, raven-haired, red-heads, etc.--as long as they aren’t blonds, he allows himself to look and lust mentally.
Because the more they look like her, the guiltier he feels, and the deeper his pain and mourning.
Conversely, his desire for her seeps too deeply, so those girls he looks at usually wear smirks, grins, or tantalizing smiles like she once did. But their eyes do not sparkle with that mixture of mischief and affection, therefore those he allows himself to watch.
However, four years without the sensual touch of a lover, without hot skin on his or without a woman to pour his emotions into are too much. But he hates that it’s a petite blond with an animated giggle, and dark blue eyes that is the first he lays with.
She looks similar to her and her voice has that air of innocence, but touch of mystery that accompanies the feather light tone of trouble. Except for the eyes--they are a gloomy blue. Hers were a lucid blue, reminiscent of clear blue oceans surrounding tropical islands.
He leaves before the girl awakens, takes off to his makeshift home outside the city, and decides to learn the date in time.
Since he’s had to make a life without the ones he holds closest to his heart, he hasn’t had it in him to keep track of minutes, hours, or days. The year, however, is always obvious--no matter the setting, the people always celebrate a new year of life.
He only has to flip on a television and look at the information guide. He reads the day of the week, then the numerical day, finally reaches the month, and hastily turns the television off.
For a moment he is immobile, just lets himself process two facts-one, that for the first time in 67 years, he has slept with someone who is not her, and two that this day marks 91 years since her arrival into the world.
“Happy birthday, babe,” he whispers into the air after he gathers himself.
He lifts himself from the bed and goes in for a shower, whilst trying to grasp the fragments of his vicarious life. Once out of the shower, he clasps to his chest his wedding ring that hangs on a necklace chain, and sends a soft jolt to embrace it.
A faint, sad, but tender smile crosses his features. The moment passes, and he continues with his routine, still attempting as best he can to sanely live eternally without the love of his life.