Do you want me to go fucking trash your lights?

Gabriel stared at the text message he’d received for a good five minutes before finally replying to it.

( What? )

"Deprived of meaningful work, men and women lose their reason for existence; they go stark, raving mad." - Fyodor Dostoevsky

”Gabriel Gray? It is such an honour to finally meet you.”

( Gabriel turned around sharply; caught off guard... )

It isn't until much later in life that he realises that it's the small moments, like comforting from a nightmare or reading a bedtime story, that will be the ones that he truly appreciates in the end.

A moment with the worst pain of his life was worth all the pleasure that would follow.

For God's sake, Peter; I got you a phone with a full keyboard: USE IT!

Someone stop me before I go out and buy an Audi R8 (The Iron Man Car). It's a beautiful car, really. But I don't need it. At all. I just want it. It'd be my new toy.

Peter?

I know we don't technically need one, but I still think we need to get a new car. Or two.

It isn't easy convincing himself that he's not like Sylar, but the truth is something that's even harder to face.

He's so mortal. I can't lose him. I can't. It's not fair. He shouldn't be this way. I have to fix him. I need to fix him...

[Sorry this is so late. Blah day was blah D:]Gabriel was glad to be home, there was no denying that. He'd missed the city. He'd missed the people. He'd missed the constant buzz. Of course, there were people and a constant buzz in Paris, but it wasn't the same. It wasn't his home, and as they say, home is where the heart his, so he had essentially ( Read more... )