After getting sick for nearly half an hour, Elle picks herself up and gets dressed. She unlocks the door and Sylar hops up and turns around. As she's opening the door Sylar slowly pushes it inward, and a he holds out his hand for her to take.
"Are you alright?"
She walks out, taking his hand. "I'm fine. I guess I have to get used to this," she responds.
Elle walks into the room and sits down on the edge of their bed, frowning. Sylar sits next to her and looks sadly at the floor. "What can I do for you?" he asks quietly.
"I don't want to do anything today. I want to be with you and that's it," she requests.
Sylar looks up at her and grins. "Of course." He takes her hand and they lay back on the bed, holding each other's arms. Sylar kisses Elle on the cheek and she twists her tiny fingers through his tangled hair. She giggles and he smiles at her. "What is it?"
"Your hair's a mess. It's never a mess," she says as she tries to remove some of the knots at the bottom.
He laughs at her and admires her pulchritude as she stares at his hair. She drops her hand next to his face and rests her head on top of it. Her eyes slowly start to close along with his, and they fall asleep in each other's grasps.
When they wake up, hours later, Sylar sits up and wraps himself up in a sweatshirt. Elle opens her eyes and rubs them. "Why are you getting up?" she asks.
Sylar stands up and kisses Elle's forehead. "I'm starving. Don't you want something to eat?"
She sits up and pushes a strand of hair out of her face. "Yes..." she moans.
He grabs a bathrobe out of the bathroom and wraps it around her. "Do you want me to get you some food or would you rather come down and get it yourself?"
She smiles. "I want to come with you. We both deserve a nice meal together."
They go downstairs (leaving the sweatshirt and bathrobe behind) and get a table at the hotel's restaurant. Sylar quickly picks up his menu and skims the pages. "Geez, could they have any more options?" he jokes.
The waiter walks over smiling and stands next to Elle. "Would you care for something to drink? Perhaps some wine?" he offers.
"I'll just take a water, please," Elle frowns.
"And for you?" He smiles at Sylar.
"I'll have the same. And some calamari to start, please."
"Yes, sir. Coming right up." He walks away from the table and into the kitchen. Sylar watches him place their order and then looks back at Elle.
"Why are you suspicious?" she asks.
"What're you talking about?"
"You're always watching people... even nice people like him. You're so untrusting."
He laughs. "I've always been that way. I'm very... paranoid."
She smiles and looks back at the menu. "This is nice, Gabe. Thanks for taking me out."
"No problem. I felt like you needed to get out of that tiny room."
"You were right. I'm getting tired of hiding," she says sadly.
"Is there anything else you want to do after dinner?"
"Let's go dancing," she grins.
"Dancing? Are you kidding me?"
She giggles. "Of course not. I want to go dancing with you." she says as she places her hand on top of his.
"Um, okay... We'll go dancing," he says with a disgusted look on his face.
The waiter returns with their waters and takes out a small pad of paper. "Have you decided what you would like for dinner this evening?"
"I'd like to try the shrimp pasta, please," Elle requests.
He writes it down on his pad and smiles at Sylar. "And for you, sir?"
"I'll have... the steak," he responds.
Elle raises her eyebrows at him.
"Please," he growls.
The waiter nods and walks back to the kitchen, and Sylar's eyes remain locked on him.
"Please, stop doing that," Elle begs.
He shakes his head and looks at her. "Sorry. I can't help it. I feel like I've met him before... I recognize his..." He looks around and quiets down. "I recognize his heartbeat."
"Calm down. It's probably just similar to someone else's. And nobody can shapeshift but you," she tries to convince him.
"Petrelli. Petrelli can shapeshift. And that's the heartbeat it sounds like..." he says suspiciously.
"Peter? You think it's Peter?" she asks worriedly.
Sylar stands up and throws his napkin on the table. "It's him. I know it is."
"Sit down, Gabriel," Elle demands.
He ignores her and heads towards the kitchen.
"Gabe!" she yells as she stands up. She runs up to him and spins him around aggressively. "We're leaving."
He looks at the kitchen and notices that the waiter is missing. "He's gone. We lost him already."
Elle puts her hands on his cheeks and looks up at him. "We're leaving."
Sylar shakes his head and takes Elle's hand. They go back up to their room and she packs all of her things back up. "Do you just want to get room service?"
Sylar sits on the bed angrily and ignores her question.
"You need to get over it, okay? He's gone. There's nothing you can do about it. So stop being a crybaby."
Sylar's eyes almost look like they turn a shade darker, and his eyebrows shift slightly closer together. He continues staring at the carpet as Elle watches him get angrier. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean it," she promises.
Fear spreads across Elle's face as she feels herself losing control of her body. "Gabriel..."
He holds up his hand and directs it towards Elle, forcing her to take a step forward. He looks up angrily, and his piercing eyes cause Elle to begin shivering. A tear rolls down her cheek and she closes her eyes. "Please... I didn't mean it," she squeaks.
Sylar takes a breath and lowers his hand, releasing her. She drops to floor and starts crying. Sylar stands up and walks over to her slowly. "I... I don't know what happened, Elle. I couldn't control myself. I promise: it'll never happen again."
She refuses to look him in the eyes, so she stares at his hand instead. He kneels down next to her and starts rubbing her arm gently. She looks at him and shakes her head. "I'm not right for you. I should leave," she says quietly.
"No, no, don't leave, Elle. You can't be alone. And I don't want to be. I love you."
She sniffs and leans forward, wrapping her arms around him. "I love you, too."
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