I'm Only Undead - Chapter 5

"Yeah, totally.  I'm so bored right now," Elle was talking to Claire Bennet on the house phone while she maneuvered about her kitchen, placing a giant pink bowl, a whisk, and a cookie sheet on the granite counter top.  "Oooh beach party?  When?  I wanna go," she leaned against the counter talking for a bit, "Yeah, well I'm gonna call you later.  Gonna make these brownies.  Alright, bye bitch."  Beep!  She hung up the phone and placed it on the counter before going into the large pantry attached to the kitchen.  Climbing up on a cabinet she grabbed the chocolate mix and headed back over to that granite counter top, opening the box and pouring it into the bowl.  Looks like tonight she was going to stay in, a movie night alone wasn't so bad.  She wore a white Hello Kitty t-shirt, pink and white striped boy shorts which showed a generous amount of lower ass cheek off, and rainbow knee-high socks.  True to her girlish nature, she had her lips glossed even while just lounging around.  Going to the fridge she bent over to grab the milk.

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Sylar had discovered the back door and had made silent use of it. Slipping through the house, quiet as a bat, listening to Elle talk to someone who he knew wasn't actually present, merely on the phone. Slowly stalking to the kitchen, where her voice radiated from. As soon as he rounded the corner, Sylar was assaulted with the view of Elle's ass. Again. His pupils may or may not have dilated at the sight of her lucious cheeks. Bent. Over. Seriously, the things he wanted to do at that instant… Slap her, grind against her, lick and bite at her, arch her back for her. Sylar ran his tongue over his lips. The stockings were doing things, too. Dear god, if she really wanted him to leave her alone, she'd have to stop flashing him. Even Sylar had his limits before he jumped her. "Forgot how good those look up close," he said, long limbs crossed, leaning against the wide doorframe. God, was it so wrong to want to see her bounce to see if those firm globes jiggled? Elle straightened immediately, miraculously not hitting her head on the fridge, holding the milk. Sylar's brow rose. "Oh now, that's not cliche at all," he said drily. C'mon, milk mustache, he so wanted to lick it off.

Instantly she stiffened.  His voice seemed to come from out of nowhere.  In all honesty she was glad she didn't jump up and hit her head or something.  Maybe she was getting use to him.  She turned around giving him a confused expression until her attire dawned on her.  "Ugh!  Such a perv," she grabbed the milk and went over to the counter in front of the bowl.  "What do you want?  I was kind of expecting to have a day of solitude.  You being here, not really making that happen."  Dropping the milk on the counter she cursed under her breath, "forgot the stupid measuring cup…"  Turning around she stood on the tips of her toes, hopping up trying to reach the cabinet.

Sylar grinned slightly as he saw her stiffen. Why did everything she do tempt him? And could he be so lucky as for her to be becoming acclimated to him? Sylar noticed that she nearly stated the fact (his perviness), but did not otherwise comment or rebuke him. "I must suck at telegraphing," he feigned a sigh, "I thought it was obvious, Elle." After a pause, during which Sylar wondered what she was making, so he asked. "What are you making?" He heard her mutterings, so he glided to the cabinet beside her, wedging himself between her and the fridge, turning so he faced the right side of her body. Sylar watched her while he brought down the cup for her, placing it into her small warm hands. He did not otherwise touch her, watching as she walked away, back to the bowl and the counter. Sylar leaned his hips against the counter not moving, still having a fantastic view, although less distracted now than the initial flash, if you will.

He helped her by getting the cup for her, passing it to her, her fingertips brushing against his as a result.  "Thanks," she turned around quickly so he wouldn't see the blush that was regrettably coloring her cheeks.  "Brownies," she answered finally, uncapping the milk and pouring one cup into it, before relinquishing the contents into the pink bowl.  This felt odd, and not in a creepy kind of way, this felt… almost natural.  Taking the whisk she plugged it into an outlet, and began to gently stir the mix, careful to not let it spill out over the sides.  For the most part, she was pretty quiet, though she did turn to look at him a few times before quickly looking away.

Sylar watched her quietly. Giving her, her space? Hell no. Pink. The bowl? Even the bowl was pink. Maybe that was it, though. Elle's pink was such a contrast to his black. He watched her set about making the brownies, her movements small and graceful. Milk, measure, pour, plug, stir, twist… looking at him…? Each time she did, he would look up at her, curious. "What were you planning on doing today?" He asked low into the quiet after she'd finished whisking. Oh, please let it be the hot tub!

"Hm?"  She looked up at him, "Oh nothing really," attention went back to her stirring, "nothing to do.  So I figured I'd stay in, watch movies, and whatever else came to mind.  What did you plan to do?"  She looked at him, this time without looking away quickly.  Was she genuinely interested?  For once, yes.  If he was going to pop up every night, there was no reason why they couldn't at least be civil with one another (or rather her be civil with him).  True to his word, he didn't do anything to hurt her, and that lowered her defenses quite a bit.  Wasn't like she was yelling at him, running away, and telling him to get out.  "Wanna help?"

Wonderful expressive eyes. Sylar always found himself staring into them. "Well, it seems fortuitous that I came along then," he said. Oh, this would be much better than him talking and Elle avoiding. Much, much better. Sylar was a surprisingly civil man. "Not much, really," an admission. Besides win her over she meant? "What movies were you going to watch?" What a perfect way to get to know someone. Frankly, Sylar would just love to 'do' things to her, but he'd promised that as well. "Sure, but I may be a little lost, I've never made brownies before," he said with a grin, moving closer, awaiting instruction.

She let loose a sigh, "Uh… how about you get the butter out of the fridge and grease the pan, that should be simple enough."  Having some help wouldn't hurt at all, the faster she got this done, the faster she'd be able to watch her movie, speaking of, "To answer your previous question, I was gonna watch Over Her Dead Body, strangely enough Twilight…," she looked him over making the obvious hint at him being an actual vampire and all.  "Then I was thinking of watching Beauty and the Beast.  Yup, that's pretty much it.  Movie and a nice chocolatey snack."

"Now, now, darling. I said 'a little', not completely. I was a single human male once, you know," he said as he pried his eyes away from the counter to turn to the fridge, looking over it for a moment before locating the butter. "What is 'Twilight'?" He asked, "And I've never heard of 'Over Her Dead Body'," that one he actually found much more ironic. She was no longer afraid of him, turning her back on him… not yelling, running away, or telling him to get out. All good things in his book. Rare, but good. Progress. Bringing the butter out, he took the waxy paper cubed rectangle and asked, "Where is the pan?" Easier than hunting for it.

"Single?"  Gosh, did she have to sound like she was interested in him?  "Don't respond to that," she shook the thought away and went back to stirring.  "A movie about some creepy ass vampire kid who stalks the girl and stares at her all creepy like, watching her sleep, pining for her affection.  Sounds kinda familiar…," she looked back at him and then giggled.  "Not only that, but there's werewolves and all this other crazy random stuff."  Pretty ironic when one thought about it, "Over Her Dead Body is about this girl who dies on the day of her wedding gets reincarnated as a ghost only to find that her lover has moved on so she haunts the girl to make sure he's hers for eternity.  Comedy, not scary."  Oh she was still very much afraid of him, she was just well aware that there was nothing she could do about his presence.  That and well… she did get use to him so progress was made.  Uh… right here," she pointed to the cookie sheet beside her and giggled.  "No super vision or anything?"

No worries, he didn't take it as 'interest' per se, not that kind anyway. Rather unfortunate. Sylar shrugged. He quirked a brow at her description, obviously of him. "Uh-huh," was all he answered to that. So he stalked her, so he watched her sleep, but he didn't pine for her- okay, maybe a little. It was insane, irrational and illogical that he be interested at all. She should be just another woman on the street, right? Two hundred and sixty-one years… he'd never noticed someone like that, even as an especially lonely man now that he thought about it. Walking over to her side of the kitchen, he picked up the pan, buttering it up as evenly as possible, doing a good job of it before setting it back down near her. Soon again, his hip was propped to the counter as he watched her work, desperate not to be distracted by her… swaying form.

"Goodie, you finished.  Put the oven on 350 and I guess you can put the milk back," she turned off the whisk and pulled out each individual utensil and began to indulge in her favorite part of baking: licking the mix off.  Wet, pink tongue came forward to lick off that chocolate mix.  Hopping up on the counter making her breasts bounce unintentionally, she kicked her legs back and forth.  "So good," she started smacking her lips around the metal and mewled.  When she finished with it, she threw it in the sink and hopped off of the counter to pour the mix into the pan when she figured the oven was sufficiently hot.  "Open the oven, please," when he did so she'd place the cookie sheet inside and continue to lick the extra whisk.

Sylar didn't answer, but moved to do as she instructed. Holding the chilled milk in one colder hand, placing it in the lukewarm fridge, flicking on the oven, and turning just in time to see her tongue extend towards the pronged instrument. Lips parted slightly, eyes going dark suddenly as he eyed it, trying to control the sudden shot of pure lust low in his gut at the sight. A slight 'oh' escaped him as his hands gripped the counter top tightly to keep himself from doing (or having) something foolish. But the longer things went on, the less it seemed fool- Jesus Christ! Did she not know what she did? This time he could not control his gasp at jiggling tits and her sucking mouth and the noises… Sylar licked his lips, shifting his weight. To hell with the oven, he was hot enough right now. He was two seconds from a raging- Fuck! Another fucking whisk? Oh, god… that promise was looking harder (and harder) to keep by the moment.

"Oven!  Oven!"  She started shouting at him, enunciating as if he was mentally challenged.  "You agreed to help, so help and stop standing there like a baf- never mind I can do it myself."  She opened the oven holding the whisk in between her lips, and went paced the pan inside before closing it.  Setting the timer on the oven, she went back to licking that whisk normally.  "Weirdo," she threw the utensil in the sink and walked past him to go in that living room.  Her ass did indeed jiggle a bit as she walked, going over to the large flat-screen TV to put that bluray in the machine.  Beside the TV was a large cabinet built into the wall which housed blankets, a pink one of which she snatched up, yellow lightning bolts all over it.  Sitting on the couch, she curled her legs into herself, picked up the remote and pressed play on the movie.  Looks like Twilight was up first.

He snapped to, blinking. "Oh…," he'd meant to, guess the order from brain to body had missed the curve somewhere due to rushing hormones and not nerve impulses. Too bad. "I- yes, I did, it was- quite possibly," was his response. Moving behind her, going where ever she was going, he paused at the doorframe of the kitchen again. Sylar's eyes tracked every motion her hips made on her ass, leering at it with undisguised lust. He so needed to touch it, knead it in his hands, touch down her cleft to finger her- Oh god, that was plenty and too much. His hand momentarily clenched on the wood of the frame long and hard enough to made it groan, altho he wished it were her under his hand. Releasing it, he walked to the couch, sitting a cushion's distance from her and her blanket, hands on his thighs. Sylar frowned suddenly as a thought occured to him. "Should I be wondering why you watch vampire movies?" Would it be too much to assume that this was a new phase induced by himself?

The menu of the movie was up, and just before she pressed play he asked his question.  "Am I not allowed to watch vampire movies or something?  I mean last time I checked I was legally an adult.  Doing my own thing and what not.  But if you must know, I watch them because they're entertaining.  I'm not particularly a big fan of the genre like I use to be as it got a little dull, but I have a few."  Oh this wasn't at all anything that had to do with him, it was just a mere coincidence.  She pressed "play" on the menu and the movie began, the system that her father had built in automatically dimming those lights.  It was quiet for a bit and she looked over to him, "Have you… ever watched a movie before?"

He simply looked at her as she delivered her bout of an explanation. "I wouldn't know, I'm not your father. I was referring to my place in the sequence," which he supposed was irrelevent, but he'd just been curious. He had to chuckle at the use of the word genre and entertaining. He hadn't known it was such a cult. His head tilted around to look in surprise as the lights got darker, then at her, and then at the glowing screen. In the following silence, Elle spoke. "Yes. A few. I… prefer theater. Just a habit I never broke," he replied, gaze meeting her own. He was curious what new things he would find here.

"No where," she answered in regards to his place in the "sequence".  Looks like Sylar was behind on the times despite living for a couple hundred years.  You'd think he'd have done all the exploring and looked at how things changed ages ago.  "Theater, you mean like plays and stuff?"  She titled her head as she asked the question, "Did you know Shakespeare?  Where are you from anyways?"  There were a ton of question she could ask him.  "How come your accent isn't… old like, you know?  Like… saying stuff like 'ye' or 'wayeth' or 'yonder'."

He made a noncommital noise in his throat. "Is there another kind?" Was his retort, voice lightly sarcastic. "No, I didn't, but there were rumors that Shakespeare was a woman." Sylar tilted his head towards her as she inquired about his accent, or lack there of, before he let out a rolling laugh, throwing his head back in amusement. Oh, he liked this Elle. Calming down, he answered with his amusement tinging his voice, "I'm from New York. I did keep up on most of the verbiage, however. Much more slang now a days," he remarked.

"New York…?"  The disappointment in her voice was evident.  "Oh, okay.  I was expecting tales of dragons and swords and what not but… that's… fine I guess."  She turned her attention back to the movie and watched it for a good five minutes before looking at him once more.  Wait… why was she looking at him?  Why was she talking to him?  Looking away, she tried to focus on the movie, but it was kind of hard to do when there was an undead guy sitting on the couch with you.  Not to mention a very attractive one.  She turned back to look at him once more, unable to help herself.

A slight chuckle came from him, "Sorry to disappoint. I did say only 1777. Although dragons and swords would have been very entertaining, no doubt," a ready admission, "can't do much about it." He was very surprised that she cared so much… Sylar turned from her to watch the… movie, barely getting into it when he felt her blue eyes fixing on him, not the screen. The first time he didn't move or acknowledge it. Maybe there was something going on in the vicinity of his head in the background. Either way, he quickly wrote it off. It happened again. O-okay. What was he supposed to do? Or think, really. His head moved to look at her, rather slowly. Maybe she'd forgetten he was considered a predetor and could definately feel her eyes on him.

She blushed a deep blush.  It was far too dark for human eyes to detect it, but maybe he could, who knew.  Just as slowly as he, she turned her head to gaze back at the screen, hiking the cover up on her even further.  On the screen they were showing Edward giving Bella all of those awkward gazes as they passed each other.  Elle couldn't help but feel that she was suppose to be cuddling with someone as she watched the movie, but there was no way she was going to ask such a thing of Sylar.  There was a loud ding and she paused the movie, the lights coming back on.  "Uh… brownies."  Getting up, she walked off to take them out of the oven.  Her lower half was revealed to him once more as she left the blanket behind.

He also heard the ding, more clearly than she did; he stared a bit, half turning to look at it. Right, brownies. She was acting… Did he say something wrong? It was possible she… didn't enjoy his… more lewd attentions. More than possible, he was pretty damn sure of it actually. He sighed as she left. Time to change up the game plan. Sylar got up to follow her into the kitchen, forcing his eyes not to wander lower, but it was a real effort. Watching as she bent (still not looking, damnit!) over to open the oven and retrieve the brownie pan with a mitt, he saw her fingers slip and burn herself on the heated tin. She gasped, removing her hand quickly and he moved quickly forwards to take the mitt from her, swiftly removing the brownies and turning off the oven before turning to her with a slight frown. Sylar began to reach for her hand to cradle it and inspect the damage, pausing, then continuing; holding her suddenly heated hand in his cold one, turning it over to eye her finger tips, being gentle with his own. "This is gonna be okay. The brownies have been valiently saved. Sorry no knights in shining armor here," he gave a half a wry grin.

She whined at her burned hand as she quickly snatched it back, she looked up at him as he took it within his own grasp.  Nodding, she returned his grin with a smile of her own.  "Thanks…"  Her hand might have been fine but it still burned like hell.  Realizing how close he was and exactly what was happening she blushed and snatched her hand away to go run it under some nice cool water from the faucet.  Next, she went to fridge to get the stick of butter and rubbed it on the sore, no one wanted a painful blister.

So, that was how it would be. Damn his stupid mind for thinking it would be different. It wouldn't. It couldn't. Hands were too rough, or too cold, or just too him for her to handle. Elle went to the sink, running the water, cold over her delicate burned finger. It was wrong to want to hold her hand and move the tap for her. Next, she went to the fridge for something cold to ease the burn obviously. He frowned further as she brought out butter. "Um…," he wondered if he should interfere even. "You're not supposed to put oils on a burn first thing…," he said quietly.

It wasn't that he was doing anything wrong, it was just in her stubborn nature to resist help when it was offered.  Without saying anything, she took the butter off of her cut and put it away.  "Oh…"  Going back to the sink she ran her finger under the cool water once more.  He was the one with two hundred so years of life experience.  "I'll be alright I guess," it was obvious that the burn was still uncomfortable to her, but she shut off the water anyways and went to get the cookie cutter.  Holding onto the pan she diced the brownie sheet into edible squares before handing one out to him.  "Want?"

Sylar watched as she put the butter back. At least she listened. Butter was an old world remedy, but wasn't the best thing for burns. He went to the freezer, opening it up, getting out an ice cube and snagging a paper towel off the rack on the counter. The ice was soon wrapped in the paper which he held for her as she offered out a brownie. "Yes, please," he said glancing at her and remembering his manners (how long had those been buried? He only ever used them with his aunt). Picking up a brownie, instantly noting that they were just the right consistancy. Not too dry, not too moist; just enough to crumble if you held it wrong. "These look delicious," he murmured bringing it to his mouth, one hand held under his mouth to catch the crumbs.

They exchanged objects as she went back over to the cookie sheet, surprisingly not saying much of anything.  She was too busy lost in her own thoughts.  "Yeah well, I hope they taste delicious too."  She cut out a square for herself and turned to look at him for a bit before going back in the living room.  The whole mood was just considerably different, her heart was practically beating out of her chest.  Flopping down on the couch, she stared into space for a bit waiting for him to return before taking a bite of her brownie quietly.  "Oooh!  It is good!"

Ambling along behind her back to the couch, sitting down as he had before, this time with both hands occupied with a treat. She called that eating quietly? He nodded, taking another nibble, chewing slowly letting the chocolate linger on his tastebuds. Sylar could also sense a change in her mood, although he was unable to pinpoint either the exact emotion or the cause, unless they be anger and the burn. He cleared his throat, looking to the screen, "Did you know that in my time, chocolate was considered an aphrodisiac?" This was said with a glance to her. Calmly waiting for her answer, he took another bite. Even if it was from a box, it was still good chocolate.

He entered the room and she stiffened a bit, but oddly enough it wasn't because she was afraid or anything.  When he was seated she began the movie once again, only to get another interesting history lesson from him.  "Really?  Was it like super rare or something?"  Elle could eat chocolate all day long, but then her stomach probably wouldn't be too happy about that.  She quickly finished off her brownie before curling up on the couch, once more putting that blanket over her.  Eyes were still glued to the screen before she gave a yawn of exhaustion.  Movies always made her tired for some strange reason, even the really good ones.

"Yes. If only in that it was a recent discovery and had to be imported, so it was expensive," was his reply, dark eyes in a dark room not leaving the bright screen. He watched, or tried to watch, the movie. Whatever similarities had she gleaned from this movie in regards to himself? And as usual, the vampires were stylized, given the equivelant of botox and implanted powers. In other words, entirely fake. And the werewolves he knew weren't so… friendly, although they could be with the right people. Mostly he tried to ingest it all with out being violently sick. Elle meanwhile curled up in her blanket, giving off a cute little yawn. Moving closer to her side, he reached for her hand, holding it out to his gaze, inspecting the burn.

She was so busy looking at the movie, that she was caught by surprise a bit as he moved close and grabbed her hand, jumping up a bit as a result.  "Sorry, I guess I'm a little jumpy or something," she responded with a slight smile.  A blush creeped up on her face as he examined her burn.  Eyes went from the injury and then to his face, taking in his strong facial features.  God he was just so handsome.  Pearly white teeth bit down on her lower lip as she got lost in his visage.

Glancing at her as she jumped, she confirmed that she was jumpy. It made sense. But she'd seemed comfortable enough with him before… He mused if she thought the burn was his fault or blamed him in someway. Women were highly irrational and emotional, one of the reasons he never got involved with any of them, living or undead. Again, she watched him instead of the screen. Did he mention irrational? Slowly, he looked up from her finger, catching her gaze under his brows, noting her bitten pink plump lip that just begged- "Want me to kiss it better?" He nearly whispered.

Well when it came to men, she never took any of them seriously mainly because they didn't take anything seriously.  She'd dated her fair share of guys and what not, but there was no one who really… stole her heart or anything of the sort.  Did she believe in love?  She was fairly certain it existed, she'd just never been in love with anyone before.  But looking at Sylar right then and there at that moment, was it love now or just a passing crush?  "Uh-huh…," she nodded, not at all feeling like herself.  In fact she'd never felt this way before.

Love? For either of them? Let alone with each other? That was a difficult concept even for him (or especially for him) to get his mind around. But a crush? Definately. His face relaxed in surprise at her answer. Opening his mouth to question it; immediately deciding against it, he decided to make use of himself.  Still holding her hand, he brought it to his mouth, lips brushing over her burn ever-so gently. And coldly. But that single brush of lips held a considerable amount of his warmth, whatever there was to speak of. Looking up at her again, suddenly a little… what was this? Shyness(?) in his gaze. Eyeing her lips again, then her piercing blue orbs before darting in suddenly for a gentle kiss on her soft mouth

Elle's mind was in a far away place at that moment, she didn't even have any clue where she was.  All she had on her mind was Sylar, he'd been on her mind for a few days before, but usually she thought about him in the analytical sense.  Now she was just thinking about him, nothing in particular, just him.  She felt rough lips against her own and she closed her eyes, kissing him back.  For one so cold, his lips surprisingly held a lot of warmth, either that or the coolness of them just wasn't detected by her own tiers.  A soft whimper was released from the back of her throat, an obvious indicator that she liked what was happening.

He heard her noise. Loud and clear. Could that really be… enjoyment from her? He didn't care, too much that is. Hand slightly squeezing hers softly, he pushed a little harder against her. Tasting residue of her brownies and her mouth on his lips, a pleasant taste he remembered from the last first time he'd done this. Sylar very much liked her taste. He brought his free hand to the back of her head, cupping it, feeling the silky strands of her hair glide past his fingers. Her lips were soft and so hot against his as he deepened his (their?) kiss with an exhale of his own enjoyment.

Her mouth opened to his as she let out tiny squeals from the back of her throat, her tongue twisting and playing with his.  Elle's small delicate hand came to rest on his shoulder, gently rubbing small circles into him.  Never before did she expect to be kissing him of all people the man — vampire — that stalked her relentlessly, harassed her for days, and even held her captive for a short period of time.  As bad as it probably was, she just couldn't bring herself to stop.

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

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