The movement draws the line of his sight down Peter's arm before it drifts back to his face; he's certainly not pretending there's anything better to look at either. Suddenly, with that stilted apology, Adam knows what this is and he's changing his mind to fiercely uncomfortable. He doesn't want to have a place here, not anymore, not now that he's puzzled out what it means.
Sylar. This is Sylar's dream. Or at least, it had been. Now it's but a shadow cast against the walls of Peter's subconscious, and now he's managed to pull Adam in. It makes the intrusion that much more unsettling. If he stands in this spot much longer, he's sure it will cast him out. He's a trespasser, unwanted in every way, and yet that's not the story on Peter's face.
Misplaced anger and something akin to jealousy are determined to hold fast to his ribcage, pulling him under as his heart beats above the rest. He gives a shallow, pained breath that he can see. It isn't cold but there it is, fear and insecurity ripping him up in ways he'd never let it. "I'm here now," he says unwaveringly, though he almost expects his voice to shake. Though the words themselves sound comforting, Adam knows his face belies his own inner struggle.
He's usually so good at making himself believe what he already expects from others, but here he feels split open and raw. Peter's apology still echoes in his head, and he can't terminate it; there will always be a part of him that enjoys the suffering Peter puts himself through. And no matter how relieved he may have been to see him, any joy is surely stolen by its setting. Part of him still wants Peter to be sorry; believes it's his fault for putting Adam in this space. Rational thought is slowly winning over, but the air still feels thick and unbreathable when he tries.
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Sylar. This is Sylar's dream. Or at least, it had been. Now it's but a shadow cast against the walls of Peter's subconscious, and now he's managed to pull Adam in. It makes the intrusion that much more unsettling. If he stands in this spot much longer, he's sure it will cast him out. He's a trespasser, unwanted in every way, and yet that's not the story on Peter's face.
Misplaced anger and something akin to jealousy are determined to hold fast to his ribcage, pulling him under as his heart beats above the rest. He gives a shallow, pained breath that he can see. It isn't cold but there it is, fear and insecurity ripping him up in ways he'd never let it. "I'm here now," he says unwaveringly, though he almost expects his voice to shake. Though the words themselves sound comforting, Adam knows his face belies his own inner struggle.
He's usually so good at making himself believe what he already expects from others, but here he feels split open and raw. Peter's apology still echoes in his head, and he can't terminate it; there will always be a part of him that enjoys the suffering Peter puts himself through. And no matter how relieved he may have been to see him, any joy is surely stolen by its setting. Part of him still wants Peter to be sorry; believes it's his fault for putting Adam in this space. Rational thought is slowly winning over, but the air still feels thick and unbreathable when he tries.