Disclaimer: Hello! I'm Hecate's Earring, unworthy of suing, and have nothing to do with the NBC TV show Heroes, which is probably a good thing.
Beauty
Krishnamurti said that beauty is what pulls one away from all thought of self. Perhaps it was cosmic justice then, that at the point when Sylar was most consumed with maximizing his true self, beauty incarnate stepped into his life. Well, not into his life, per se, but into the life or rather the recent death of one Zane Taylor. When Sylar's eyes met those of Mohinder Suresh, suddenly nothing else mattered including himself, and least of all the former owner of his new power and identity now growing cold in the next room.
Suresh was beautiful by any and all standards, not just for what he represented to Sylar, a list to fuel his expanding powers and someone who could understand and appreciate Sylar's own personal importance, but for what he was- and what he was, inspired in Sylar, an unrelenting awe. As he watched Chandra Suresh's exquisite son speaking so passionately to him about destiny through genetics, Sylar had to smile. How singularly ironic that he had met and murdered far lesser beings than Mohinder who the world at large would have considered as god-like. As far as he was concerned, Suresh was to the old humanity precisely what Sylar was to the new- the upper most rung of evolutionary possibility.
It came as a pleasant surprise when Sylar realized that Suresh had looked beyond the awkward guise of Zane to share a certain amount of his other than intellectual fascination. Suresh was subtle in his sexual attraction but unmistakable to one so attuned to the inner workings of all things. He spoke of sex with his body language, his comfortable proximaty, the of ease his smile, and most eloquently of all, with his candid and appreciative eyes. He was grateful that the beauty that was Suresh was not to be wasted on the likes of the real Taylor nor upon anyone as pathetic and ineffectual as Gabriel Gray. No, Sylar and only Sylar deserved such a prize as this. Clearly, this man was to be his reward for all his sacrifices made and his unswerving devotion to the pursuit of his own destiny.
As soon as Suresh agreed to take Zane along, Sylar knew that Suresh belonged only to him. The intensity of his certainty gave him pleasure and patience enough to take a long view. With every day that passed and every mile they travelled, Sylar explored and studied this new and precious gift that he was given. Suresh was like a rare and flawless gem, perfectly cut, his every aspect reflecting light and brilliance. His lithe body so full of natural grace and energy was the perfect temple to house his extraordinary mind. It was all Sylar could do to confine himself to the small and boring role of Taylor and to play that part convincingly without lapsing into poetry or long worshipful silences.
Then one night in a roadside motel room, having acquired his latest gift of hearing and today rediscovering the body from which he had freed it, Sylar sat with Mohinder over tea and strategy. Suddenly Mohinder started talking about him again, not about Taylor, but about Sylar. Between the white shock and black dread his name seemed to inspire, Mohinder's admiration for him surfaced in that reasonable gray area encompassing every man of science. Listening to his true name fall from those privileged and cultured lips so nearly feminine in their beauty, was worth the headache his enhanced hearing gave him. Sylar knew that their time had come.
You have nothing to fear from me nor from anyone, he wanted to say. Instead he said, "Mohinder." Sylar spoke the name with all the silk and reverence he felt while tracing his fingers over a high, dark cheek. A thumb brushed across a day's worth of stubble on his chin. Those bright eyes so bottomless and black softened at Sylar's touch. He did not lean in to meet Sylar's mouth yet did not pull away. Since Taylor could not hear the speed of Mohinder's heart nor the rush of his blood to those long neglected nether regions, Taylor's kiss was tailor-made to remain tentative, questioning yet succinct.
"Zane, you are a very welcome surprise," Mohinder answered and after smiling a charming smile, did lean toward him. This time Sylar met his mouth in earnest.
Their first and only time together was all softness and comfort, upon white sheets lit by a street light through vertical blinds, spiced with the loneliness of their travels and the horrors of the day mutually witnessed. Mohinder once again took the lead on their journey. As Taylor, Sylar casually submitted to this destiny so willing to come to him. Mohinder proved himself as gentle and generous a lover as Sylar had expected. His attentions throughout and thereafter were nothing short of flattering even to a Sylar-sized ego.
Sylar was more than content to let things progress in this quiet, unassuming Taylor sort of way. Unfortunately for the both of them, what came next was a little incident involving chai, duct tape, and his true name, as if a rose were no better than a common garden weed to Mohinder when relabeled! Still, Sylar was nothing if not pragmatic. All lovers quarreled occasionally over unimportant matters, like who killed who's father. When Mohinder proved himself worthy of a second chance by not bleeding to death from the ceiling, Sylar's memory of the whole experience and Suresh's deeply felt absence from his days and nights made Sylar's heart grow ever fonder. After all, who could deny the appeal of a man who kept an IV of curare handy?
Thus, Sylar knew it was up to him to make their next meeting every bit as extraordinary and unforgettable as the both of them. Though their time apart was hardly all his fault, he would be the one to fix their relationship like a fine watch in need of few minor adjustments. Soon the list would no longer loom between them. On that day, Sylar would be complete, as free to claim Suresh for his own, as anything else that either of them had ever wanted. That was why Suresh was most beautiful of all to him, Sylar realized: Suresh was not merely his reward and redemption; Mohinder Suresh was his destiny.
-Thank you very much for reading. Comments, good, bad, or indifferent, are all appreciated. I will return the favor of a review.