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onepassingnight2011-06-09 11:51 pm
askedtobe.livejournal.com) wrote in onepassingnight2011-06-09 11:51 pm
Entry tags:
volume 4
There's something eerie about walking through an empty New York, a place that's supposed to be the opposite of a cowboy ghost town. At least there aren't any tumbleweeds. But it always leaves Peter feeling hallowed out in all the wrong ways, lost with nothing left to find. He doesn't even bother looking into the windows of empty buildings; he's done this too many times to know that there's nothing there to see, that there won't be anyone else looking back.
The sound of his footsteps echo far too loudly and Peter sighs, trying to ignore the part of him that keeps getting its hopes up at the turn of every corner. There's not going to be anyone there waiting. Not at this street or the next, and yet Peter peers around each street, down every alley, still searching for the remnants of people that might have passed by. Maybe if he listens hard enough he'll hear something outside of the thoughts inside his own head.
He's already done all his shouting, he always tries it, seeing if the sound of his voice might bring any wanderers out from hiding. But he always stops just before going hoarse, there's no point. Turning at another street corner, Peter will never enjoy feeling as if he's the last person left on earth.
[ ooc; feel free to hit up this post however you'd like to -- be it prose or actionspam/brackets. i'll respond accordingly ]
The sound of his footsteps echo far too loudly and Peter sighs, trying to ignore the part of him that keeps getting its hopes up at the turn of every corner. There's not going to be anyone there waiting. Not at this street or the next, and yet Peter peers around each street, down every alley, still searching for the remnants of people that might have passed by. Maybe if he listens hard enough he'll hear something outside of the thoughts inside his own head.
He's already done all his shouting, he always tries it, seeing if the sound of his voice might bring any wanderers out from hiding. But he always stops just before going hoarse, there's no point. Turning at another street corner, Peter will never enjoy feeling as if he's the last person left on earth.
[ ooc; feel free to hit up this post however you'd like to -- be it prose or actionspam/brackets. i'll respond accordingly ]
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A few months ago, more like what amounts to years in Peter's mind, the answer to that question would have been instantaneous. He didn't believe he'd ever be capable of forgiving someone that had betrayed him so wholly. That had helped lead him down a path that only he felt guilty for; the death of millions of people.
And yet, at the same time, he would have never believed himself capable of forgiving Sylar. There was a time and a place for holding onto his anger, and it was long gone. It had been lost right along with everything else, and now, he couldn't convince himself of the worth of his own dwindling bitterness. All that was left was directed inwards, vying for the award of how many things he could find to blame himself for. But even that was hard to find when clinging to Adam as if the world was about to end.
Nosing against the heartbeat racing in Adam's neck, Peter knows he won't be able to breathe until he can answer. Pulling himself back together using his hold on Adam to do so, when he finally finds his voice, it holds no waver. As muffled as it is against Adam's skin, against the firm blockade of his own emotions, Peter finds it in himself to make the words heard over the bood pounding in his head. "I forgive you."
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This place, that he hated, that he blamed Peter for conjuring--it had brought him equilibrium.
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Brushing his fingers across Adam's cheek while he sinks into the kiss, all he can do is use this to impress upon the own truth to his words, to try to make them as real as he possibly could in a place where nothing was. And it only made it worse that he could feel himself starting to slip. Fingers digging into Adam's waist, the sharpest they've been yet, Peter pulls back far enough to repeat himself, "I forgive you." And then he's stealing one last forceful kiss, knowing if he doesn't do it know he'll regret it when he wakes.
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