Sep. 29th, 2011

watchmakersylar: (Fucking Mean)
I brushed my fingertips along the drawers of Angela Petrelli’s desk. She had the Sylar, and I wanted it. There were still holes in my memories. Nathan’s were thankfully fading away, although I was afraid that I’d touch something in here that would make him come back.

God I couldn’t deal with that. I was almost me again, and I can’t afford to lose ground now.

Then I reached into the bottom drawer, and I saw a flash of the bitch peeling up a fake bottom. I grinned as I pried it open, and there it was my broken watch.

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watchmakersylar: (Default)
Sylar - Gabriel Gray

July 2012

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