Personal Space - Elle/Sylar - Part 1
Title: Personal Space - Part 1
Author: force-oblique
Rating: G, possibly AU
Disclaimer: I dont own anything! :P
Characters/Pairings: Elle/Sylar
Word Count:
Summary: A little while after Elle decides to move at her own apartment, she receives a surprise visit from Sylar.... Does he want revenge,her power or something else?
Author's Notes:This is written for Dee dana-serenity. Hope you like baby! <33
Personal Space
Sometimes it’s better if you are alone, with no one to hold you back.
That’s what Bob aka daddy used to tell her whenever she felt unbearably lonely.
Elle has been alone for so long. Too long …
Almost her whole life, but she is just 24 years old and she hopes she will have a lot of years ahead of her to test that hypothesis.
As she turns around the corner to her new house, she can’t help but feel as if she’s being watched.
Looking around she shakes that crazy idea off her head and steps into the apartment building.
10 steps to the elevator, 10 to her front door and Elle is still nervous.
It feels like she is trapped.
She can’t explain it. And she knows there is no reason to. She is at her place, surrounded by people who barely know her….
It can’t get any safer than that. Not at this point in her life…
And “trapped”? The whole word sounds ludicrous.
She has lived her whole life inside a facility, inside a room, so she should know the real meaning to the word…
Yet, liberated as she was, she has never felt so trapped as intensely as she feels it right now.
She is not sure she has to, but she’s never been one to control her feelings or tame herself.
Unlocking her door, she is met with darkness.
Everything is dark.
No light coming from anywhere and even though she has never been afraid of the dark the way other kids were, she now finds her hands frantically trying to locate a switch on the wall.
A knob, something to help her make sense of this.
Something to shed light into this darkness.
It almost feels as if she is not in her own apartment, but in a surreal reality, an alternative one where shadows are the only indication that there was once light…
Her heart is starting to skip beats again and she feels mad at herself for showing such weakness.
She is not a little girl anymore no matter what everyone thinks or how she is treated.
Like her every desire is a whim and her every decision; her every struggle for independence and recognition, is a tantrum.
There’s silence all around and that should be comforting.
But there’s something in this darkness…lingering.
Something calculated and ominous that is putting a sour taste in her mouth and is chewing on her nerves in a way that makes her feel uneasy.
Elle tries to calm herself inhaling hard and she frowns realizing that each breath she takes seems fake, insufficient and she knows she should take control of herself.
She takes a step forward, defiant, challenging, exactly the way she wants to come off, exactly the way she likes to think of herself.
“Who is there?” she shouts a little too loud, her breath caught at the back of her throat, refusing to climb up or slide down.
For a few moments she thinks there will be no answer and she will feel stupid about herself, but the sign is there.
Could that be a laugh? A chuckle?
It is a chuckle. So someone thought that this was amusing?
“Psychopath much?” she thinks and only one name, one face comes to mind…
Ever since that day that she got to him, yet missing her purpose which was to kill him, obliterate him, she’s feared this would happen.
Him showing up at her doorstep with the desire for revenge and a rematch…
“Sylar” she hisses and instinctively she backs up at the wall behind her as the chuckle grows stronger, louder, uncontrollable.
“Bad move” she thinks but it’s too late when her body is lifted and pinned to the wall with his invisible claws.
And then she sees him.
She squints distinguishing his imposing figure coming closer to her. It’s murky.
But God she can see him.
In the darkness she sees him, his eyes blacker than night itself, standing out like the opposite of light.
Like the antonym for every word meaning light and pure and good.
And maybe she is wrong about the ‘pure’ part…because his eyes are pure, unadulterated evil….
And as her head starts spinning, she can’t help but conjure the image of a lighthouse in her mind.
A lighthouse shining in the dark, something that would help her to see.
And then she can’t help but think that Sylar is the very opposite of a lighthouse…
Because a lighthouse…its lights are meant to guide you towards safety, towards civilization, whereas Sylar’s dark eyes were just dark spots as intense as black holes, sucking you into them, into the void, into perpetual blackness.
Leading you unto evil, luring you to it. Not guiding you towards safety but towards exactly the opposite….
Making it appear just as sexy as it is inevitable. Resistance was futile.
Elle knew all about darkness. She had even touched it for a few times, but it was nothing compared to the one in his eyes.
When he looked into her eyes too, it felt as if time stood still and only for a moment, she felt as if she were floating, soaring on the inside as well as on the outside.
“What do you want?" She asks him, hoping her voice would come off as steady and harsh.
Instead it’s more of a grumble.
He ignores her question as he approaches her, his body only inches from hers.
“Elle…” he purrs.
“You know you have been quite hard to track down..”
“Good to know!” she snaps at him.
At least one thing didn’t come easy for him. At least she would fall having given him a hard time.
He chuckles again, the sound of him like the rustling of autumn leaves…
And she wonders where this metaphor came from…
“Why did you move out of the company?” he asks her and she feels chills down her spine, considering that he was actually able to infiltrate the company looking for her…
He could have killed her dad….He could destroy everything she ever knew, should he choose to…
“I needed some personal space” she answers him, trying to anticipate his next question, trying to find a way to postpone the inevitable.
“How is that working out for you?” he challenges her as if he knows that personal space is something impossible for people like them…
“Obviously not well enough…you are here, aren’t you?”
He laughs again and this time it’s almost not unsettling. He turns around, his back to her and Elle calculates the possibilities of knocking him out with her power faster than he could react. She twists her wrist to have him in range.
”I wouldn’t do that if I were in your place. It might piss off the one who has the upper hand in the situation” he simply says without even turning to face her and Elle wonders when he started to talk about himself in the third person or whatever his game was.
Why couldn’t he just say “It might piss ME off” like normal people?
Then again, he wasn’t normal and she bitterly admitted that neither was she and in this, if at nothing else, they were connected.
In a twisted way, of course, but that was the only way Elle knew anyways.
She pulls her hand back and stays silent for a few seconds.
“You know you inspired me” he starts and Elle couldn’t be more surprised, she frowns despite herself and she is glad that he can’t see that with his back turned.
She has been an inspiration for Sylar?
Let’s see….
Being the inspiration for a demented serial-killer…Really endearing….
So endearing that it upsets her stomach and it makes her heart spin almost as fast as her head….
Last time she heard, he had the whole “I-can-hear-everything” ability so that was unfortunate. He must have heard the effect that confession had on her.
Maybe that was why he turned again so he could face her.
He stands there staring at her and it seems like he is expecting her to say something.
“I inspired you do what?” she indulges him.
And curiosity starts to take over her....
End Of Part One
Comments found Here
Author: force-oblique
Rating: G, possibly AU
Disclaimer: I dont own anything! :P
Characters/Pairings: Elle/Sylar
Word Count:
Summary: A little while after Elle decides to move at her own apartment, she receives a surprise visit from Sylar.... Does he want revenge,her power or something else?
Author's Notes:This is written for Dee dana-serenity. Hope you like baby! <33
Personal Space
Sometimes it’s better if you are alone, with no one to hold you back.
That’s what Bob aka daddy used to tell her whenever she felt unbearably lonely.
Elle has been alone for so long. Too long …
Almost her whole life, but she is just 24 years old and she hopes she will have a lot of years ahead of her to test that hypothesis.
As she turns around the corner to her new house, she can’t help but feel as if she’s being watched.
Looking around she shakes that crazy idea off her head and steps into the apartment building.
10 steps to the elevator, 10 to her front door and Elle is still nervous.
It feels like she is trapped.
She can’t explain it. And she knows there is no reason to. She is at her place, surrounded by people who barely know her….
It can’t get any safer than that. Not at this point in her life…
And “trapped”? The whole word sounds ludicrous.
She has lived her whole life inside a facility, inside a room, so she should know the real meaning to the word…
Yet, liberated as she was, she has never felt so trapped as intensely as she feels it right now.
She is not sure she has to, but she’s never been one to control her feelings or tame herself.
Unlocking her door, she is met with darkness.
Everything is dark.
No light coming from anywhere and even though she has never been afraid of the dark the way other kids were, she now finds her hands frantically trying to locate a switch on the wall.
A knob, something to help her make sense of this.
Something to shed light into this darkness.
It almost feels as if she is not in her own apartment, but in a surreal reality, an alternative one where shadows are the only indication that there was once light…
Her heart is starting to skip beats again and she feels mad at herself for showing such weakness.
She is not a little girl anymore no matter what everyone thinks or how she is treated.
Like her every desire is a whim and her every decision; her every struggle for independence and recognition, is a tantrum.
There’s silence all around and that should be comforting.
But there’s something in this darkness…lingering.
Something calculated and ominous that is putting a sour taste in her mouth and is chewing on her nerves in a way that makes her feel uneasy.
Elle tries to calm herself inhaling hard and she frowns realizing that each breath she takes seems fake, insufficient and she knows she should take control of herself.
She takes a step forward, defiant, challenging, exactly the way she wants to come off, exactly the way she likes to think of herself.
“Who is there?” she shouts a little too loud, her breath caught at the back of her throat, refusing to climb up or slide down.
For a few moments she thinks there will be no answer and she will feel stupid about herself, but the sign is there.
Could that be a laugh? A chuckle?
It is a chuckle. So someone thought that this was amusing?
“Psychopath much?” she thinks and only one name, one face comes to mind…
Ever since that day that she got to him, yet missing her purpose which was to kill him, obliterate him, she’s feared this would happen.
Him showing up at her doorstep with the desire for revenge and a rematch…
“Sylar” she hisses and instinctively she backs up at the wall behind her as the chuckle grows stronger, louder, uncontrollable.
“Bad move” she thinks but it’s too late when her body is lifted and pinned to the wall with his invisible claws.
And then she sees him.
She squints distinguishing his imposing figure coming closer to her. It’s murky.
But God she can see him.
In the darkness she sees him, his eyes blacker than night itself, standing out like the opposite of light.
Like the antonym for every word meaning light and pure and good.
And maybe she is wrong about the ‘pure’ part…because his eyes are pure, unadulterated evil….
And as her head starts spinning, she can’t help but conjure the image of a lighthouse in her mind.
A lighthouse shining in the dark, something that would help her to see.
And then she can’t help but think that Sylar is the very opposite of a lighthouse…
Because a lighthouse…its lights are meant to guide you towards safety, towards civilization, whereas Sylar’s dark eyes were just dark spots as intense as black holes, sucking you into them, into the void, into perpetual blackness.
Leading you unto evil, luring you to it. Not guiding you towards safety but towards exactly the opposite….
Making it appear just as sexy as it is inevitable. Resistance was futile.
Elle knew all about darkness. She had even touched it for a few times, but it was nothing compared to the one in his eyes.
When he looked into her eyes too, it felt as if time stood still and only for a moment, she felt as if she were floating, soaring on the inside as well as on the outside.
“What do you want?" She asks him, hoping her voice would come off as steady and harsh.
Instead it’s more of a grumble.
He ignores her question as he approaches her, his body only inches from hers.
“Elle…” he purrs.
“You know you have been quite hard to track down..”
“Good to know!” she snaps at him.
At least one thing didn’t come easy for him. At least she would fall having given him a hard time.
He chuckles again, the sound of him like the rustling of autumn leaves…
And she wonders where this metaphor came from…
“Why did you move out of the company?” he asks her and she feels chills down her spine, considering that he was actually able to infiltrate the company looking for her…
He could have killed her dad….He could destroy everything she ever knew, should he choose to…
“I needed some personal space” she answers him, trying to anticipate his next question, trying to find a way to postpone the inevitable.
“How is that working out for you?” he challenges her as if he knows that personal space is something impossible for people like them…
“Obviously not well enough…you are here, aren’t you?”
He laughs again and this time it’s almost not unsettling. He turns around, his back to her and Elle calculates the possibilities of knocking him out with her power faster than he could react. She twists her wrist to have him in range.
”I wouldn’t do that if I were in your place. It might piss off the one who has the upper hand in the situation” he simply says without even turning to face her and Elle wonders when he started to talk about himself in the third person or whatever his game was.
Why couldn’t he just say “It might piss ME off” like normal people?
Then again, he wasn’t normal and she bitterly admitted that neither was she and in this, if at nothing else, they were connected.
In a twisted way, of course, but that was the only way Elle knew anyways.
She pulls her hand back and stays silent for a few seconds.
“You know you inspired me” he starts and Elle couldn’t be more surprised, she frowns despite herself and she is glad that he can’t see that with his back turned.
She has been an inspiration for Sylar?
Let’s see….
Being the inspiration for a demented serial-killer…Really endearing….
So endearing that it upsets her stomach and it makes her heart spin almost as fast as her head….
Last time she heard, he had the whole “I-can-hear-everything” ability so that was unfortunate. He must have heard the effect that confession had on her.
Maybe that was why he turned again so he could face her.
He stands there staring at her and it seems like he is expecting her to say something.
“I inspired you do what?” she indulges him.
And curiosity starts to take over her....
End Of Part One
Comments found Here