Shades of Gray
Nothing But A Point of View
"Why is she hanging all over me? I'm not a lost puppy. Not anymore, at least," he thought, his annoyance turning into a smirk as Alison continued hugging him.
She let go, and the word finally rang through his head. He could tell Alison was trying to inhale his scent as they hugged. "So ridiculous," he thought to himself, with arrogance.
Six, even two years previously, Gabriel wouldn't have been immune, and he would have caved into this subtle affection. But that was over. He was Sylar, now. And too much had transpired to turn back now.
He was power hungry. Gabriel was dead.
He stepped back to allow both of them some breathing room. Observing the former object of his desire, he chuckled inside, albeit sardonically.
Sylar always got what he wanted. His former self, Gabriel, did not. Alison was proof of that. But when Gabriel died inside of him, fatefully, so did his necessity for Alison.
Sylar knew confidently, that everything was better without attachments. He would only mutilate his emotions and self-being if he couldn't let go.
And surely, he must have let go of Alison.
Glancing at her up and down, Sylar broke the extended silence.
"How are you?" he asked with seeming interested. He shifted his stance, still standing in the doorway. He convinced himself that he didn't really care, although deep down, he did.
"Alright..," She started, nodding. "Lacking of my daily dose of Gabriel," Alison continued, attempting to lighten the air. Sylar cracked a brief smile. Inside, it killed him every time she spoke his true name.
"You look so different," Alison said to Sylar. And it was true. He seemed rougher, and if possible, less innocent. Although nobody could be completely innocent their whole life. It was just an odd way to see her old friend Gabriel in.
Sylar chuckled awkwardly. Oh, if you only knew, Alison, he thought to himself. Pushing that thought to the side, he responded back politely. "So do you. But in a good way," Sylar said, winking very briefly. Just act like nothing has changed, for now, he coaxed himself.
"Thanks," Alison replied quietly, but smiling softly. Gabriel loves that smile. Sylar, on the contrary, wants to destroy it.
"Want to come in?" he offered, standing aside so Alison could walk in if she decided so. Alison stepped in, an optimistic glint in her eye. "Thanks," she repeated, wiping her feet on his mat out of habit. Leaving her bags in the car, she knew she'd probably be back later.
After closing the door, Gabriel stepped into his kitchen where a kettle was sitting on the stove. "Tea?" he asked, turning back to look at Alison who was still absorbing the look of Gabriel's new living arrangements.
Snapping back to his voice, Alison nodded. "That would be really nice, thanks," She said, following him into the kitchen. Pouring some into a short glass, Gabriel handed it to her. Alison thanked him again before sipping out of it.
"So, what have you been up to these past few years?" she asked with interest, sitting down on a chair in his kitchen.
"Do you really want me to answer that, Alison?"
She let go, and the word finally rang through his head. He could tell Alison was trying to inhale his scent as they hugged. "So ridiculous," he thought to himself, with arrogance.
Six, even two years previously, Gabriel wouldn't have been immune, and he would have caved into this subtle affection. But that was over. He was Sylar, now. And too much had transpired to turn back now.
He was power hungry. Gabriel was dead.
He stepped back to allow both of them some breathing room. Observing the former object of his desire, he chuckled inside, albeit sardonically.
Sylar always got what he wanted. His former self, Gabriel, did not. Alison was proof of that. But when Gabriel died inside of him, fatefully, so did his necessity for Alison.
Sylar knew confidently, that everything was better without attachments. He would only mutilate his emotions and self-being if he couldn't let go.
And surely, he must have let go of Alison.
Glancing at her up and down, Sylar broke the extended silence.
"How are you?" he asked with seeming interested. He shifted his stance, still standing in the doorway. He convinced himself that he didn't really care, although deep down, he did.
"Alright..," She started, nodding. "Lacking of my daily dose of Gabriel," Alison continued, attempting to lighten the air. Sylar cracked a brief smile. Inside, it killed him every time she spoke his true name.
"You look so different," Alison said to Sylar. And it was true. He seemed rougher, and if possible, less innocent. Although nobody could be completely innocent their whole life. It was just an odd way to see her old friend Gabriel in.
Sylar chuckled awkwardly. Oh, if you only knew, Alison, he thought to himself. Pushing that thought to the side, he responded back politely. "So do you. But in a good way," Sylar said, winking very briefly. Just act like nothing has changed, for now, he coaxed himself.
"Thanks," Alison replied quietly, but smiling softly. Gabriel loves that smile. Sylar, on the contrary, wants to destroy it.
"Want to come in?" he offered, standing aside so Alison could walk in if she decided so. Alison stepped in, an optimistic glint in her eye. "Thanks," she repeated, wiping her feet on his mat out of habit. Leaving her bags in the car, she knew she'd probably be back later.
After closing the door, Gabriel stepped into his kitchen where a kettle was sitting on the stove. "Tea?" he asked, turning back to look at Alison who was still absorbing the look of Gabriel's new living arrangements.
Snapping back to his voice, Alison nodded. "That would be really nice, thanks," She said, following him into the kitchen. Pouring some into a short glass, Gabriel handed it to her. Alison thanked him again before sipping out of it.
"So, what have you been up to these past few years?" she asked with interest, sitting down on a chair in his kitchen.
"Do you really want me to answer that, Alison?"
♠ ♠ ♠
For the record, anything in italics is a thought. So, the last sentence was NOT actually spoken. I also decided to switch things up by writing in third person. I thought it would be a really good way to capture the Point of View perspectives.