Come Fly With Me - RP Verse with beastlyinsides
The moment I see the good Senator Petrelli on the television screen in our latest hotel room, my stomach lurches. There he is, white teeth gleaming with his ever present fake ass smile plastered to his face. I remember that grin, thinking he's so fucking charming. He has the entire world snowed, going in hook, line and sinker with his perfect Senator act.
An involuntary shiver runs up my spine at the memory of his filthy hands touching my flesh. Smarmy bastard thinking he can charm the panties off of any female on the planet like he's the greatest fucking catch ever known to women. I can still almost taste his kiss, the one he forced on me before I pushed him away. The way he was so self absorbed even then, making it all about his pleasure from it. How any woman could fall for that is beyond me.
The cinnamon bun piece I had stolen from Sylar is suddenly left on the bed forgotten. I suddenly don't have much of an appetite.
"Fucking bastard." I mutter under my breath, not expecting Sylar to hear me. He had just gotten his first cup of coffee, thank God for us that the hotel has a Starbucks in the lobby, makes the mornings go by much smoother. Curiously, if you flash enough money, they're more than willing to deliver your lattes and breakfast goodies without exception.
I pull my fluffy white robe a little tighter trying to ward off the chill I suddenly feel. I hate this. Hate having any weakness or outward sign of being actually human. Thanks for that Senator. I should have done a hell of a lot more than refuse your advances, slapping you and running back to Linderman's side. I should have castrated you or worse, but I caught enough shit from the Boss when I refused seduce you. No, that chore was ultimately left up to Niki Sanders.
An idea begins to take root in my mind, I can rectify this injustice now. I crawl forward, straddling Sylar's hips, feeding him a bite of ooey gooey cinnamon goodness. "Honey." I ask before I lick the decadent treat off my fingers. "Have you ever wanted to fly?"
An involuntary shiver runs up my spine at the memory of his filthy hands touching my flesh. Smarmy bastard thinking he can charm the panties off of any female on the planet like he's the greatest fucking catch ever known to women. I can still almost taste his kiss, the one he forced on me before I pushed him away. The way he was so self absorbed even then, making it all about his pleasure from it. How any woman could fall for that is beyond me.
The cinnamon bun piece I had stolen from Sylar is suddenly left on the bed forgotten. I suddenly don't have much of an appetite.
"Fucking bastard." I mutter under my breath, not expecting Sylar to hear me. He had just gotten his first cup of coffee, thank God for us that the hotel has a Starbucks in the lobby, makes the mornings go by much smoother. Curiously, if you flash enough money, they're more than willing to deliver your lattes and breakfast goodies without exception.
I pull my fluffy white robe a little tighter trying to ward off the chill I suddenly feel. I hate this. Hate having any weakness or outward sign of being actually human. Thanks for that Senator. I should have done a hell of a lot more than refuse your advances, slapping you and running back to Linderman's side. I should have castrated you or worse, but I caught enough shit from the Boss when I refused seduce you. No, that chore was ultimately left up to Niki Sanders.
An idea begins to take root in my mind, I can rectify this injustice now. I crawl forward, straddling Sylar's hips, feeding him a bite of ooey gooey cinnamon goodness. "Honey." I ask before I lick the decadent treat off my fingers. "Have you ever wanted to fly?"