Title : Defy This Love
Word Count : 962
Rating : G
Notes: For [livejournal.com profile] piping_hot  who gave the song prompt 'Defy This Love' by Shannon Wright and [livejournal.com profile] mission_insane  Song table : ibid.



Defy, defy our love

When Mohinder felt too far away from him, Sylar always came back here. A plain brown box filled with scraps of their relationship, bits of paper, photographs, keepsakes, as if the tangible nature of these things made their love real. As if he could present them to some imaginary court as evidence of Mohinder’s feelings.

And it's not the roles you play
And it's not the roles I play


Mohinder’s ID card from Primatech. Sylar had taken it from his desk one day, secreting it in his pocket and stowing it in the box that night. He didn’t know how else he could get a picture of him without someone finding out. He once had one which he took from Mohinder’s apartment, but it had been in his jacket when he was stabbed at Kirby Plaza and he had woken up without it. When they had been together….Well, it wasn’t the kind of relationship where you took pictures. Mohinder wanted the opposite. No document of their affair.

I give you all the love I’ve got
And let it shine right through me

Loving Mohinder made him better. Made him want to be better. He picked up a receipt for a watch he had bought him. He had spent a fortune on it, money that was actually his from a long forgotten account. He knew that stealing it, or otherwise getting the gift through deceitful means would make Mohinder reticent to accept it. He had left the receipt in the bag on purpose, and made a show of being embarrassed and snatching it away when Mohinder saw it, but he wanted Mohinder to know it was paid for in full. He still wore it. He had seen him wear it.

Can we please forget the pain
Can we please forget today

A hotel keycard. Kept to remind Sylar that he had to know his place. There had been an electrical fault at his apartment and he had shown up at Mohinder’s door unexpectedly. At first he had been glad to see him, told him he could stay the night, of course he could, they were lovers after all and it wouldn’t be the first time. But then a friend of Mohinder’s called ahead on the phone, saying they were on their way over. Sylar was bustled out of the door with a scant apology. “You understand, don’t you?” Mohinder had said. Sylar didn’t understand. He had cried for the first time in a long time that night, on a hotel pillow while the realisation hit him that they would never be together in the way he wanted.

Define our love, define our love

A cinema ticket. From the morning he had asked Mohinder, “What is this? Us I mean, what is it?”. Mohinder had flirted, avoiding the question, pretending he didn’t see the need in Sylar’s eyes. The night before, when Mohinder had been upset about something he wouldn’t reveal, he had held him so tightly. He had clung to him, and when Sylar wanted to know if there was anything he could do Mohinder had said “Just make love to me.” It was the first time he ever used those words. As they lay together afterwards, still warm, breathless and entwined, Mohinder had whispered “I love you”, for the first and only time. The next morning Mohinder had suggested they go and see Brief Encounter at the art cinema down the block. Sylar liked the gesture, but wondered whether it was just a way to avoid talking to him without actually sending him away.


All the while
I still carry
The lullabies that you sing

A burned CD. Sylar had asked Mohinder what the song was he was humming and he answered “The Magnetic Fields” without looking away from his computer. Sylar felt ignored until he was handed the CD, with Mohinder’s unmistakeable handwriting. “It’s a triple album so I just picked the best ones”, he had said. It was the only gift he had ever given him, and Sylar had burned a copy of it, keeping the original in the box for fear it would somehow wear out. He played the copy over and over, memorising the lyrics and imagining that they contained some kind of truth.


Circle round angry on me
If only you would come for me

A matchbook from a hotel in upstate New York. Mohinder had called him out of the blue and asked what he was doing that weekend. Sylar had been nonchalant on the phone but had smiled so wide that thought he would never stop. Whatever it was that had made Mohinder ask, Sylar didn’t care. That had been the best weekend of his life, just the two of them, alone, uninterrupted.

 

An unstruck match. Sylar tore it from the matchbook. “We are not a couple!” Mohinder had yelled. They had argued when Mohinder accused him of hinting to someone about their relationship. Sylar had overheard two female agents talking about Mohinder, reducing him to flesh and bone, gossiping about the handsome doctor. He didn’t think it had been a strong hint, he just couldn’t stand anyone talking about his Mohinder that way.

 

Mohinder had erupted, saying all those hurtful things he always said when someone got close to the truth about them. Especially when Sylar himself got close to the truth.

 

He looked at the match. One day he would strike it, and burn everything. Watch every memory go up in smoke and along with it his proof that Mohinder had ever been anything more than an enemy to him. He replaced the match and closed the lid on the box.  One day he would strike it. But not today. Mohinder had always come back for him in the past. He could wait.

 




This account has disabled anonymous posting.
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.
More info about formatting
.

Profile

takhallus: Dan Byrd greyscale and purple star (Default)
takhallus

Most Popular Tags

Powered by Dreamwidth Studios

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags