Mohinder swept a lock of hair from his forehead and leaned back in his chair. His feet rested on the edge of his desk, his fingers softly tapping out a rhythm on the arm rest. His manner was casual, his body relaxed, yet his eyes were trained on his captive. His notebook rested on his lap, and every movement and sound from the beast inside was noted. He glanced over at the computer constantly, reassuring himself that all his escape precautions were enabled and functioning properly. He was careful this time- his arrogance had been his downfall in the past. There would be no underestimation, he knew his prisoner as his enemy, not as a victim deserving pity.
The scientist believed in the evolutionary imperative, he understood that the process was far from perfect, and often violent. The progression of the species was inevitable, and it was not his aim to hinder natural advancements. But this creature, this monster, was a risk to other evolutionary wonders. The danger in allowing this man to pursue his desires forced Mohinder to temporarily forfeit his belief that nature should be allowed run its course. At least in this case, this one was special.
He watched the captive simply sitting on his cot, a postion he had assumed for the better part of the day. This worried Mohinder considerably, as the man behind the glass was intelligent as well as powerful, and so much time spent thinking may lead to an escape plan. Mohinder attempted to ease his qualms- the materials used to keep his detainee imprisoned were resistant to all of his abilities, from induced radioactivity to temperature manipulations. As Mohinder stared fixedly at the man, allowing no movenment to go unnoticed, a slow grin spread across the prisoner's face. What was he smiling about? The scientist's eyes swept the containment room. Nothing was out of place, not there was much to move in the scarcely adorned cell. There was nothing to burn, freeze, telekinetically toss about, or run a current through. His prisoner was powerless. Mohinder leaned back, balancing on the back legs of his chair, and closed his eyes.
He awoke to a nearly suffocating increase in temperature, his clothing damp and drenched in sweat. The power had gone out. He groped for arms of his chair, attempted to stand up, and found himself floating a few inches higher than he stood. The implication of this dawned on him a moment before the new escapee illuminated the room with electricity emitting from his fingertips. The door had been blown off its hinges.
"Hello doctor. I was getting lonely in my cell, I thought I'd come out for a visit."
"Sylar. Noah will send reinforcement as soon as he realizes-"
His speech was cut short as Sylar released his telekinetic hold, and the scientist crumpled to the ground. Gasping for breath, he tried to continue.
"I'd advise you to consider your options. If you stay here, we will help you. We can erase your powers, we can erase your hunger."
He felt his body rise up again. This time it was the physical force of Sylar's hand that lifted him up. His captor's fist grabbed him roughly by his collar and thrust him against the wall. Mohinder looked up to see Sylar's still smiling face, his head tilted slightly to the left, observing Mohinder with a look either kind or cruel, it was impossible to tell in the illumnation of a few sparks.
"Oh doctor. Don't look so frightened. I really did just come out to have a little chat."
Sylar certainly knew he was bluffing- there was no one to contact aside from Noah, who had confidence enough in the security of the room and Mohinder's watchful gaze to leave the two alone for a few hours. A mistake, thought Mohinder ruefully, as he was now at the mercy of his former prisoner. The lights flickered back on now, but as the prisoner had already escaped from his cell, it served Mohinder as only a cruel reminder of his own inadequecy.
Mohinder looked curiously at the villain, wondering why he did not proceed to kill him. And as he looked, he could not help but notice the sculpted arm that pinned him to wall. The temperature had caused the captor to sweat as well, and his shirt clung to his chest, so his muscular top half was displayed advantageously in the light. His faced glistened with the sweat of exertion, creating a glow, accentuating his chiseled jaw, his masculine eyebrows. The scientist blinked. Why was he thinking about the physical beauty of the man that would be his murderer, moments before his own demise?
Sylar still watched the discouraged man with a smile playing upon his lips, noting the lingering gaze on his body. And his grip softened, as he observed the childlike eyes with which Mohinder looked at him- so doelike and simple, so soft and beautiful. The brown curls that circled his smooth face lay almost flat, losing the battle to heat and sweat, but this only made him appear more sweet and vulnerable. Sylar attempted to direct his thoughts back to his purpose. Mohinder had nothing he needed, but he must be killed.
Neither man had spoken for some time.