"You."

The you that was spitting out of my lips, was like venom on my tongue (and it was a plan of mine to have every other word come out the very same) at the man before me, the one that was going to die a death all covered in sparks.

"Elle, I thought I'd never see you again (it's me, it's me!)."

Ex-lovers are so very spiteful, filling my head with the face of the lovers that died in a blaze of paint and blood.

It was by far the most terrible thing any one had done to me (and the one doing it is that terrible) but of course it was me and I haven't even began to stop hurting.

"Sylar, you son of a bitch. Why him? Why?!"

Before I could send him flying (sparks flying from his eyes all the way down to his ties) his fingers wrapped around my shoulders (chipped with dry paint that he would never wash away) and in the one moment I knew it was him.

"Isaac?"

"It's me, El, it's me."

-

Some say death becomes some people but the moment it came knocking at my door I knew I wasn't one of them.

The tears, that come even if you don't want them too, came the very day when it all finally sinked in but then they dry up and all that's left is anger.

(boiling in your blood, boiling in every single part of you even your very soul)

"Y-Your dead (and buried six feet under)."

Instead of the ghost that haunts my dreams he was solid as a brick wall, and for the first time it was him, truly.

"He said you'd say that (he who woke me from my long sleep) and told me to give you this letter."

The name written at the top ('Adam Monroe') was one that was long forgotten by me and the world but at this one moment it stood out in my mind even more then the man before me (who can now be called my present lover).

'El, it's been a while, hasn't it?

The last time I saw you, and your damaged little mind, you were burning me to a very nice crisp, but I forgive you for that because I know your not sorry for doing it.

And hey I've done a lot worse to you, broke your young heart before you had a chance to grow a protective covering over it, sorry for that.

Well, I knew that saying sorry was not going to cut it because I know you.

So, little El, here's a little present for you, he's been dead quite some time but he only remembers the day he was gutted, head first.

Don't worry your pretty little head about anything, I don't want anything in return and he's fully alive and not one bit eat-your-brains zombie.Sincerely, your not-quite-lover Adam.'

"What does it say, Elle?"

"It says sorry (over and over again, now that's something right there) and that your one hundred percent the man that once painted the world for me."

"And will do the same thing all over again."

(forever and ever, with a six hundred old god watching over us as we finally live a normal life, okay maybe not all that normal)

P.S: If you run into Arther any time soon tell him that Adam Monroe cheated death once again.