"Take a look at this."
Mohinder pointed to a bluebell, his eyes brightening a little.
Sylar raised an eyebrow at it – there was nothing special about the flower.
It was small, and it looked weak.
Fragile.
"It just bloomed. Nature will run its course… and it'll be as big as this one, soon," Mohinder gestured to another version of the same flower.
"Everything's given a chance to bloom."
Sylar remained silent.
He'd never noticed the sweet smell of
spring before.
-
The heat was unbearable.
Mohinder stopped the car and got out of it, his eyes squinting in irritation.
Before Sylar even knew what was going on, Mohinder had stripped himself of his clothing and jumped into the river they'd been driving by.
"Get in the water, its boiling, but it's good."
Sylar was very amused.
So it was true. Heat did drive even the sanest people, insane.
But then again, if
Mohinder was with him, he wasn't exactly sane, was he?
-
"Go
out of the country."
"Why?"
"Just do it, I'll join
you."
I promise.
-
He's gone.
He's gone for good.
Mohinder stared out the window, absently watching a leaf fall.
Strange, it was the only one that was falling.
It fell slowly and reluctantly, but Mohinder thought it was falling just a little too quickly.
Much too quickly.
It didn't deserve to fall before the other leaves.
Why didn't he tell him?
-
It's snowing outside.
Mohinder grabs a plain, gray scarf from his wardrobe, carefully avoiding the multi-coloured ones.
Sylar had once said that they gave him headaches.
Mohinder wondered if it was because he'd killed someone and taken the ability of what, enhanced-colour-vision?
He tucked the scarf into his coat, and reached for his glasses.
It's been 5 winters since he'd worn a scarf that wasn't gray.