“A lot of classes, actually. Is it possible to be interested in too much stuff?” Claire frowned, pushing the laptop away. She needed to stop staring at that screen for a moment. ”I’d like to learn some career to help people like us, like science or something? Maybe social work? Or a cop? But I also wouldn’t mind learning to be a chef.”
A small, short laugh. Peter knew the feeling all too well. “That’s normal. I promise. The first few years after high school, I was like that too. But just because you’re going to college soon doesn’t mean you can’t try everything. What do you wanna do most?”
Gluttony does not notice the scraping nails nor the panic making a mockery of the mortal’s features. His concerns focus on the sweet scent of sweat, the fear giving rise to succulent tastes. Eager, his tongue lengthens, far beyond that of a normal human’s, and laps up a thin layer of salt from the boy’s brow.
"I was thinking about having a fire—maybe trying something fancy, but I’d much prefer to consume you r a w.”
His expression twists into terror — human anatomy stretches beyond normalcy and it’s so wrong, so very wrong that he’s suddenly paralyzed, breath coming harsh and halting through his nostrils.
Brown eyes wide and pupils dilated, all Peter can do is stutter.
“Jesus, I — what— just let go—”
"A few hours, then review again." The blanket is pulled to the floor and out of Peter’s reach.
Naturally, he makes a scramble for it, but his reaction is too little, too late. Far be it from Peter to refuse his brother’s request. He drags fingers back through his hair.
"You can always study more." One, sure jerk rips the blanket away and forces his brother into the waking world.
He should hit Nathan with the pillow. Really, truly hit him until the stuffing bursts out of it. Peter rolls onto his side, squinting into the sunlight as if it physically pains him.
"—Or maybe I could let my brain recuperate for a day."
The compulsion to laugh, to flash blood stained teeth and curl broken lips was damn near unbearable. It was the violence —— Sylar guessed —— the indignation that roused the monster inside awake.
Peter’s anger came in pulsars but the reverberations left in Sylar’s body were a continual adrenaline rush.
❛ ——because we both fight against our own nature. You, the need to destroy me and I, the need to let you do it.❜
He didn’t know who he was trying to convince but he tried anyway. Peter’s clenched knuckles trembled at his side, aching — anger had a way of moving him before he could think, before he could realize, wrenching each muscle from his control. But he was still now. He was done.
"I’m not — angry — at you.”
"The boys helped me download the ringtone," is his answer as he tucks the device back into its rightful pocket. "Get your ass out of bed. Don’t you have a final to write?"
Peter resists the urge to fling a pillow at his brother’s face — just barely.
"—It’s tomorrow." A groan. "I already studied. Today’s my day off."
Anonymous: just curious about who you ship peter with
//i do all canon — so simone, future!niki, caitlin, emma (if they were given more time in the show), but I’m not averse to others if the chemistry fits.