Heroes - Paris Is Burning 1/?
Title: Paris Is Burning 1/?
Author: Liv darkmagic_luvr
Fandom: Heroes
Characters: Adam Monroe, Elle Bishop
50prompts Prompt: 6. Touch
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters before you. They belong to their respected creators, and not me.
Author’s Note: This is part of a series I’m calling Mad in the Blood. Spoilers through Season Two. Set after A Short History of Nearly Nothing
Adam was smarter than most individuals. He wasn’t just smart, his age made him cleaver, manipulative. He knew what people wanted and how to manipulate that to his need. So when he asked Elle if she wanted to be normal, he knew it would leave her stunned. Elle knew nothing about the real world. The taste she got when she went out on field work was just that, tastes. Adam wanted her all to himself, so Bob wouldn’t be able to reel her back to him. He needed to manipulate her craving of normal to his need to cure the world. He could save her if he needed to.
She didn’t bring up their conversation by the time she got back to the room. By then Adam had collapsed in the bed, one arm slung over his eyes. He heard Elle scoff at him when she shut the door and imagined her standing at the foot of the bed with her hands on her hips, daring him to make some sort of comment.
“You’re sleeping on the floor,” she said. Adam moved his arm off his face and placed it behind his head, opening one eye and closing it again, settling further into the pillows.
“I’ve been lying in a box for weeks, Elle. It smelled like mothballs and old lady. I’m sleeping right here,” Adam heard Elle scoff at him again and cracked a grin. “You could join me if you’d like.”
“I’d rather-”
“Do something awfully sadistic to yourself, please, Elle. You’ve been up for nearly 24 hours, maybe longer. Just get in the damn bed.”
“No.”
“I promise I wont let anything happen,” Elle stared at him, feeling that he meant more than just feeling her up in her sleep. She hesitated and sighed, defeated, pulling off her boots and crawling into the bed as far away from Adam as possible.
“You’re going to end up falling off,” said Adam in an annoying sing-song voice.
“I’ll live.”
“Suit yourself.”
Elle heard Adam flick the lights off, plunging the room into darkness, which only seemed to get Elle’s heart pounding. She fidgeted in the darkness, still wearing her clothes from the day. She felt the bed dip as Adam shifted towards her and (looking over at him) found him staring at her.
“What?” asked Elle softly, her voice sounding too loud in the darkness.
“I was just wondering if you still had nightmares,” asked Adam just as softly. He looked so sincere, but Elle turned her head away.
“Sometimes,” she admitted, and continued fidgeting. Adam chuckled at her.
“G’night, love.”
“’Night,” Elle muttered back, still fidgeting. She stopped after what seemed like ages, after Adam’s breathing became steady and looked back at him. He always fascinated her.
Elle turned over on her side, facing him and reached out with her hand, resisted her ever persistent urge to shock him and placed her fingertips against his face, running the pad of her thumb across his jaw.
Adam woke up the following morning to find Elle curled into his chest, her hair splayed across his arm, hands pressed against his chest. His cheek was resting against the top of her head and one of his hand was settled against her waist. He managed to untangle himself from Elle without waking her.
By the time Elle did wake up, Adam was gone. It took a moment for Elle to realize he wasn’t there, but when she did she fumed. Swearing loudly she sent a stream of electricity at the curtains near her, setting them on fire. In her rage she didn’t notice the door open behind her.
“Elle, what the hell are you doing?” Elle spun around, staring at Adam in the doorway, holding something in his hands and staring at her like she’d gone bat shit.
“What’s that?” asked Elle, changing the subject, one of the smoldering curtains behind her falling to the ground. Adam sputtered for a second, holding up two tickets.
“We’re going to New York,” he said. Elle cocked an eyebrow. “I’m going to show you exactly what you’re father did to you.”
Elle rolled her eyes. She’d been through this shit with Noah Bennett. She didn’t even have a file. “And what? I’m going to run to you with open arms, begging you to kill him.”
“Trust me, sweetheart, you’ll kill him yourself.”
“Okay, call me sweetheart again and I’ll turn your brain into jello.”
Author: Liv darkmagic_luvr
Fandom: Heroes
Characters: Adam Monroe, Elle Bishop
50prompts Prompt: 6. Touch
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters before you. They belong to their respected creators, and not me.
Author’s Note: This is part of a series I’m calling Mad in the Blood. Spoilers through Season Two. Set after A Short History of Nearly Nothing
Adam was smarter than most individuals. He wasn’t just smart, his age made him cleaver, manipulative. He knew what people wanted and how to manipulate that to his need. So when he asked Elle if she wanted to be normal, he knew it would leave her stunned. Elle knew nothing about the real world. The taste she got when she went out on field work was just that, tastes. Adam wanted her all to himself, so Bob wouldn’t be able to reel her back to him. He needed to manipulate her craving of normal to his need to cure the world. He could save her if he needed to.
She didn’t bring up their conversation by the time she got back to the room. By then Adam had collapsed in the bed, one arm slung over his eyes. He heard Elle scoff at him when she shut the door and imagined her standing at the foot of the bed with her hands on her hips, daring him to make some sort of comment.
“You’re sleeping on the floor,” she said. Adam moved his arm off his face and placed it behind his head, opening one eye and closing it again, settling further into the pillows.
“I’ve been lying in a box for weeks, Elle. It smelled like mothballs and old lady. I’m sleeping right here,” Adam heard Elle scoff at him again and cracked a grin. “You could join me if you’d like.”
“I’d rather-”
“Do something awfully sadistic to yourself, please, Elle. You’ve been up for nearly 24 hours, maybe longer. Just get in the damn bed.”
“No.”
“I promise I wont let anything happen,” Elle stared at him, feeling that he meant more than just feeling her up in her sleep. She hesitated and sighed, defeated, pulling off her boots and crawling into the bed as far away from Adam as possible.
“You’re going to end up falling off,” said Adam in an annoying sing-song voice.
“I’ll live.”
“Suit yourself.”
Elle heard Adam flick the lights off, plunging the room into darkness, which only seemed to get Elle’s heart pounding. She fidgeted in the darkness, still wearing her clothes from the day. She felt the bed dip as Adam shifted towards her and (looking over at him) found him staring at her.
“What?” asked Elle softly, her voice sounding too loud in the darkness.
“I was just wondering if you still had nightmares,” asked Adam just as softly. He looked so sincere, but Elle turned her head away.
“Sometimes,” she admitted, and continued fidgeting. Adam chuckled at her.
“G’night, love.”
“’Night,” Elle muttered back, still fidgeting. She stopped after what seemed like ages, after Adam’s breathing became steady and looked back at him. He always fascinated her.
Elle turned over on her side, facing him and reached out with her hand, resisted her ever persistent urge to shock him and placed her fingertips against his face, running the pad of her thumb across his jaw.
Adam woke up the following morning to find Elle curled into his chest, her hair splayed across his arm, hands pressed against his chest. His cheek was resting against the top of her head and one of his hand was settled against her waist. He managed to untangle himself from Elle without waking her.
By the time Elle did wake up, Adam was gone. It took a moment for Elle to realize he wasn’t there, but when she did she fumed. Swearing loudly she sent a stream of electricity at the curtains near her, setting them on fire. In her rage she didn’t notice the door open behind her.
“Elle, what the hell are you doing?” Elle spun around, staring at Adam in the doorway, holding something in his hands and staring at her like she’d gone bat shit.
“What’s that?” asked Elle, changing the subject, one of the smoldering curtains behind her falling to the ground. Adam sputtered for a second, holding up two tickets.
“We’re going to New York,” he said. Elle cocked an eyebrow. “I’m going to show you exactly what you’re father did to you.”
Elle rolled her eyes. She’d been through this shit with Noah Bennett. She didn’t even have a file. “And what? I’m going to run to you with open arms, begging you to kill him.”
“Trust me, sweetheart, you’ll kill him yourself.”
“Okay, call me sweetheart again and I’ll turn your brain into jello.”