At least, this is the excuse Sylar uses for why he went up north to continue, uh, 'finding' people to fix.
This fine night, he'd gotten his hands on an obnoxious little pyro with a power he definitely didn't deserve. So yes, he's got a bounce in his step and occasionally there's fire-what-fire going on between his fingertips, but no one at one in the morning is going to notice.
He takes pause near an alleyway, hearing a slightly slowed heartbeat (oh, inebriation) and moaned swear.
Sylar still feels like being a good Samaritan, so when he sidesteps his way toward the girl and gives her an unabashed once-over, it's purely for his own reference. Or something.
"Need some help?" he asks lazily. She's not drunk, but she's tipsy enough where showing off will just be a cute stage trick to her.
These boots are starting to be more of an encumbrance than an attraction, Anna decides.
Why must she have such a weakness for things that are thigh-high, shiny, and black?
Perhaps the same reason there's a little bit of black strap riding up the curve of one hip.
"God, please," she mutters, followed by some choice phrases in Quebec French which the narration will not repeat because it is not, in fact, an angry Montreal woman and doesn't know any.
He's never had a taste for the thing she's trying to light, but he does have a taste for the way she's dressed, appreciating the fact that there's a lot more skin showing than being covered.
Hey, at least he's being honest, right?
He catches her wrist, tugging it between the two of them where it was both comfortable for him, and easy for her to see.
This is, after all, more for show than anything else.
His free hand gives a light snap and the friction causes the involved fingertips to burst into a tiny flame. He holds them close to the cigarette until it catches and begins to burn, only then shaking off the fire and letting go of her hand. The latter takes a bit longer, as an offhand. "How's that?"
"Hey, sweet." She grins brightly, pushing off the wall to stand up, lift the burning cigarette to her lips, and inhale deeply. "Tabernac, I fuckin' needed that."
The casual swing of her hips suggests there are a few more things Anna Reeve needs, and the sparkling smile suggests she wouldn't be averse to exploring the possibility of getting them from Sylar.
Comments 142
At least, this is the excuse Sylar uses for why he went up north to continue, uh, 'finding' people to fix.
This fine night, he'd gotten his hands on an obnoxious little pyro with a power he definitely didn't deserve. So yes, he's got a bounce in his step and occasionally there's fire-what-fire going on between his fingertips, but no one at one in the morning is going to notice.
He takes pause near an alleyway, hearing a slightly slowed heartbeat (oh, inebriation) and moaned swear.
Sylar still feels like being a good Samaritan, so when he sidesteps his way toward the girl and gives her an unabashed once-over, it's purely for his own reference. Or something.
"Need some help?" he asks lazily. She's not drunk, but she's tipsy enough where showing off will just be a cute stage trick to her.
Reply
Why must she have such a weakness for things that are thigh-high, shiny, and black?
Perhaps the same reason there's a little bit of black strap riding up the curve of one hip.
"God, please," she mutters, followed by some choice phrases in Quebec French which the narration will not repeat because it is not, in fact, an angry Montreal woman and doesn't know any.
Reply
Hey, at least he's being honest, right?
He catches her wrist, tugging it between the two of them where it was both comfortable for him, and easy for her to see.
This is, after all, more for show than anything else.
His free hand gives a light snap and the friction causes the involved fingertips to burst into a tiny flame. He holds them close to the cigarette until it catches and begins to burn, only then shaking off the fire and letting go of her hand. The latter takes a bit longer, as an offhand. "How's that?"
Reply
The casual swing of her hips suggests there are a few more things Anna Reeve needs, and the sparkling smile suggests she wouldn't be averse to exploring the possibility of getting them from Sylar.
Reply
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