the cutest scene .. i think ...

~Our Notion~

*Last*

Everything happened so quickly as I voluntarily pressed closer to him, flying him to the other couch, making him slam into it as we kissed, his hands wrapping around me as my hands brushed across his forehead, against his hair. His hair was silky smooth and felt like it had been combed through a thousand times every minute, and I loved it that way, it just gave me another reason to keep holding him close.

This is what they meant when they said love couldn't be explained in words. And I didn't use any to tell him that I needed him, neither did he. Who knew he felt this way in just a short period of time?

I could not believe it. It was like a dream come true. I had never fantasized my first kiss, but if I ever did, this was it. Nathan felt the same way for me as I felt for him. Or maybe more because he was the one who'd made the first move.

His tongue lingered on the surface of my lips and I gripped onto his shoulders, my thighs clasping around Nathan's pelvis as I leaned closer to him. I held him close as he pulled my head closer, leaving me breathless as I took another jagged breath, inhaling every unimaginable smell that he had lingering on him. My stomach lurched in nervousness as our proximity made it impossible to breathe. But who needed to breathe when you were straddling the person you met a few weeks ago? He immediatley flipped me over so I was on the couch and he flew off, landing in his office chair.

I gasped, taking deep breaths as I gripped onto the couch, staring at him. Nathan had his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, thinking hard. Too hard. His face looked pained, but compared to mine, it wasn't pained enough.

"That . . . wasn't right," Nathan whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I stuttered. "It was . . . interesting . . . it gave me some potential."

"No, I shouldn't have done that," Nathan protested.

The denial hurt. Was it just a game? Liar. How could he do this? He was playing me. Was Rachel using her compulsion? No. Tracy had stood him up to this. She wanted to know how far we would--I would--go. Couldn't he feel the same for me without being forced to?

"No, you should have," I muttered. "Because I would have done that sooner or later."

He stopped spinning around in his chair and looked at me, remorse in his eyes.

"Vasanti, you know I'm a lot older than you are," Nathan informed, as if I didn't already knokw. "It may not mean anything to you, but you're a teen, and I'm an adult. It wouldn't look good--"

"For your campaign?" I blurted, trying to hold in the pain that I'd never felt before. "I can't believe you."

The atmosphere around me was suddenly dark and critisizing as I shook my head at him, using the back of my hand to wipe away the tears of betrayal and pain. He didn't even move, now, he didn't have a single look on his face that said 'I care about you.' It was all gone because his campaign was more important than being with me, meaning that I should have thought at this moment that Sylar was more important than Nathan--but it wasn't true!

"I've always loved the way you smile," I whispered, taking a deep, jagged breath. "Always. From the moment I felt your jacket around my shoulders, the way you twirled me around the ballroom--I knew something was there. And already, in such a short time, I feel as if I'm--" falling for you.

I stood up, heading towards the door, my eyes tearing up as I had to close my eyes to contain my pain, to keep from falling apart in front of him. This was worse than killing Ashley, than killing Jeremy. This pain was worse than if I killed Sylar, because this time, I was killing myself and I didn't know how to stop, how to scream and have someone hear me, how to get someone to care. I was alone in this world without the ones I loved.

"Don't fall for me," Nathan said.

"I know," I bit my lip as I spat it out, "you have . . . Tracy."

"No, don't fall for me because," Nathan paused slowly, "There's no reason to."

But there were so many reasons to love him! He was perfect. He was mine. And I blew it. But I loved him! What was I supposed to do? 'Hi, I'm Vasanti, and I think I'm in love with you!'

"Nathan, we would be able to change the world, starting with out lives," I cried, my hand tracing against the door. "We belong together."

"You don't belong with me," Nathan twirled in his chair so he faced the windows, not me.

I closed my eyes as the words soaked in and wanted to spew out curses. I exhaled as my hand slammed against the door, my lips quivering as tears made themselves comfortable, flying onto the floor. My hand braced against the doorknob, and before I twisted it, I turned to face Nathan, who didn't look my way at all.

"The higher you fly me, the farther you drop me," I muttered a last time before slamming the door shut and speeding down the front door stairs.

A few cars were parked outside, black cars to be exact, and bodyguards were filed out on the grass, waiting for me as one pulled a door open for me. I shook my head and tried to wipe the tears away, but a nosy bodyguard had to ask a question.

"Are you okay, Miss Gray?" he whispered. "Because we know you aren't."

Smart, someone who knows.

"No, I'm not okay," I muttered. "I'm going to walk home, and hopefully get ran over by a taxi."

I pushed away all the bodyguards and stepped onto the sidewalk, walking towards Times Square with tears falling behind me. Times Square was a long ways away, nearly two miles, but I was prepared to walk that far for any reason. The rain had stopped--hallelujiah--so I didn't have to get soaked, only my flats were the unforunate ones.

How could nathan be so cruel? Everything seemed to bother me after thismoment. The rain on the sidewalk splashed against my flats, soaking my jeans. I smelled greatly of Nathan's irresistable scent, and my lips, no doubt still felt the force that he had given me. I crossed my arms and kept walking, a taxi stopping in front of me after 10 minutes of my jeans getting soaked, even though I didn't even hail a taxi. I climbed in happily, pulling my hair into a ponytail as he asked me where I was headed.

"Dr. Suresh?" I questioned, looking at him through the mirror to meet his eyes.

"Ah, Vasanti," he nodded, looking away. "On your way home?"

"Uh . . . yeah."

Dr. Mohinder Suresh was a geneticist at this Company that he was paid to work for, but the place he worked at was really secret to the humans who didn't want anything to do with the evolution in the world. Mohinder had black hair in curls, his deep chocolate skin glowed as headlights shone on his face. My eyes darted to his hand on the steering wheel, a Solitude crest ring slipped on his finger.

"Mohinder?" I asked, "how did you choose which side you'd be on?"

"Well, then," Mohinder observed, "still thinking about which side to choose, then?"

I nodded, folding my hands into my lap as I stared out the window, the lights flying by.

"All three sides are the same," I grumbled. "Why do we even have them?"

"In a way, the are unique; we all want to change the world differently," Mohinder explained, turning to catch my eyes. "Like when we used to have Democrats and Republicans."

"So how did you choose the side?"

"Well, let's just say--the side chose me," Mohinder chuckled. "And the side adapted well with my skills."

"What do you think of someone who can't choose?" I whispered. "

"I know what I think of the ones who've chosen," he smiled. "The ones who choose at an early age are in a rush to prove themselves or are forced to."

"And the ones who are offered all sides?"

The car suddenly jolted to a stop in the middle of the road, my seat beltless body jerking forward and hitting the passenger seat. My head spun for a second as it adjusted to the blow, the fog clearing up as we passed the exit through the brightness of Times Square.

"You got offered both?" Mohinder gasped. "Who offered them?"

"I was offered the Villia crest last year on my birthday--which is actually in three weeks--and the Solitude crest was offered by Angela Petrelli," I said.

"Not Nathan?" Mohinder was clearly surprised.

"No," I muttered. "What do you think of the Neutrals that choose their sides? They have a side that they're more faithful to."

"Loads of questions, eh?" Mohinder laughed. "Well, I believe that theses groups--as we call it--is like a religion to us. The people who have powers don't have abilities and don't have a bilities can eighter choose to live it with us and accept it; remain Neutral and help both sides, or pretend not to even know we're alive, which is so many others in the world."

I paused as I soaked everything in, the comparisons beyond belief. Everything made sense as I repeated the words over and over. A religion. That's why so many people at school were divided these days into the four groups and broken down from there. It seemed as if we had four different sections to everywhere we were--the halls, lockers, lunchroom, classroom, the library--everywhere. There were four sections for everything and I mostly stuck to the ones who thought they could act like the 21st century highschoolers: jocks, preps, scene, skater, goths emos, and I belonged with the loners. Everyone stays away from me because Sylar's a threat to our very society and future.

I shook the thought out of my head, stepping out of the taxi as he rolled down the windo so I could hand him the money. We were a house away from home, which made me anxious as I saw that all the lights were dimmed. He pushed the money away from him, pushing into my palm.

"It's on me," he smiled and nodded, his neck long curly hair bouncing.

"But . . ."

He glared at me and I pulled my hand away, stepping off the grass and onto the sidewalk. Before I could rush back to my house, he whispered my name.

"I have faith in you," he said, staring into my eyes. "You'll be the first of a new generation for us. Don't pressure yourself to choose a side immediatley, once you do, you can't turn back."

"Thanks," I whispered. "I'll see you at the next rumble."

As I stepped slowly away and Mohinder drove off, it hit me. The Rumble. We had rumbles every four to five years to test our powers agaisnt each other, and I'd only been to one in my life, and that was when I was seven years old. The Villias had obviouslywon, and took the wins until this day, but so many Solitudes were being bred and so many Villias were being killed constantly.

Samuels opened the door for me, gesturing me in as he closed the gates.

"Ms. Gray, are you--"

"No, Samuels," I whispered. "I need to get away for a while. I need more time to think."

I rushed inside the house, tears welling in my eyes as I stopped to stare at Sylar from under the chandelier, Sylar's crying body on the couch, slouched and broken. My heart sank, and I wanted--so badly--to reverse everything, to switch my life for hers at this moment.

He looked up at me, his eyes sore and red from crying, Ashley's ring in his palm. My brother needed me.

NO!

What about the times I needed him? Where was he? Who was he to me? Why didn't he come? Where was he?

But I couldn't stay . . . not now . . . I had to leave. I had to leave before I made him hurt even more. Before I hurt all the people I loved.

"Icebeam," Sylar sighed, his lips barely moving.

Before I could look at him, I ran up the stairs, trying not to burst into tears as I slammed the door shut and sulked onto the floor, my head on my knees. Where would I go? A hotel . . . okay . . . that's where I'd go. I'd stay there for a week or so and seclude myself, along with my abilities.

I stood up, rushing into my walk-in closet and pulling out my duffle bag, throwing handfulls of clothes into it, unconsciencous or what I threw in it. Running into the corner of my freakishly large closet, I pressed my thumb onto the scanning device, the door flying open as I pulled out a stack of hundreds. I grabbed handfuls of them, shoving it onto the bag, turning off the light in my closet as I closed the door.

I rummaged through my desk for the one thing I wouldn't leave without, and my head snapped up as the door opened, then closed.

"Ms. Gray," Mia whispered.

"I'm leaving," I muttered, still searching through my desk.

I came across two 4 by 6 images, laminated and in perfect condition. Sighing, I threw the images into my bag.

"We need you, Vasanti," Mia said, her voice breaking.

I cried out as I found what I was looking for, shoving it into a pocket in the bag, zipping it up.

"I have to leave," I sighed. "But I'll be back."

"Promise?" Mia whimpered, tears streaming down her face.

"I promise, I sighed, wiping her tears away with my thumb. "Don't be the 23-year-old who cries because I leave for a week."

She laughed through her tears, making a smile appear on my face. This is just what I needed when I leave--someone who needs me, cares for me. This couldn't have been more difficult. Mia had been my friend since I was born, and this was how I repay her?

"Ms. Gray, Villias are disappearing, wear this," Mia untied her headband, handign it to me. "They can't touch you if you wear this."

I didn't even know the Neutrals had a crest, but I guess they had to have one in order to be safe from the others, thinking they were either Solitudes or Villias. The headband had a pendant strung on it, the engraving on it was deeper, seeming to make the red rose a 3-D image. In the middle was a blood-red tinted rose with a crown hovering on top of it, the thorns on the stem were a golden warning color, and the background had thorns crossing each other to patch up the sun, to block it out.

"Oh, Mia . . . I can't take it," I said, handing it back to her.

"It'll help you get a job, you can't just be sitting in a room for a week," Mia pushed it back to me. "It's the least I can do for you at this time."

I clutched the headband, sighing as I pulled her into a hug, my tears streaming onto her dark red t-shirt. I tore out a sheet of paper from my sticky notes on the table, scribbling down the place where I was going to go and the address, along with the phone number.

"There's only one throughout Conneticuit," I whispered, handing it to her. "If you want to send something to me, just call them and ask for Vasanti. Don't tell anyone, and if Samuels is listening right now, I hope he decides to keep it a secret."

I sighed and ran my finger across my bed, wanting to curl up and sleep forever, to let go of all my worries.

"If I want to see you?"

"No, only calls," I warned.

"How will you get there?" Mia asked.

I smirked, trying to hid the pain as I pulled out my jacket from the hanger on the wall, throwing it on and clasping the clip together accross my body, the jacket falling past my waist.

"Full tank of the new version of sun powder in the Jaguar," I stepped out of the room and dragged the oversized bag with me, scrambling down the stairs.

"Vasanti, stay," Sylar called, standing up and taking my arm. "I don't want to lose you.

The sleeve of his sweatshirt was pulled up adn I could see marks on the arm, made by running his finger across his arm and I gasped.

"Sylar? Are you . . . cutting yourself?"

He looked away from me, dark circles under his eyes and a hint of vulnerability in his eyes that I had never, in my entire life, seen before.

"What the hell, Sylar?" I yelled. "If the Solitudes decide to have Nathan call you up for a rumble, they'd know you're vulnerable!"

"It doesn't matter anymore," Sylar scofffed. "Ashley's dead!"

"What did you say?" A voice called from behind us, the door creaking open. "My Ashley is . . . dead?"

"Mr. Berkof," I muttered under my breath. "It's a pleasure to . . . see you again."

"She's dead?"

"Yes, she is," I cried. "I killed her!"

I wiped away the tears, stepping away from Sylar as he hung his head down.

"I've got to report this to . . ."

"The police don't deal with Solitude-Villia related deaths, get the hell out of here," Sylar growled.

Mr. Berkof ran out, looking back at Sylar with fear written all over his face. I scoffed at Sylar and backed away from him.

"That is why I have to leave, Sylar," I whispered. "I need lots of time to control myself."

"Dont leave," Sylar pleaded. "You can't leave!"

I was sick of havign Sylar tell me what to do, I just needed some time to myself, was that so hard to deal with? Did he really want me to become a killer like him?

"Most of what I am, is what you expect me to be!" I screamed. "I need time to think about who I am, not what you expect me to be."

"What has he done to you?" Sylar gasped. "You've changed . . ."

"I've come to know that I need to choose who I want to be, and who I am," I explained quietly. "Leaving is the best way."

I turned around and headed for the door, Samuels followign behind me. I needed to say something constructive if I was going to leave like this. Something that Sylar could live with for a week or two.

"Do what Ashley would want you to do," I mutttered as I slipped itno my flats, opening the door. "She wouldn't stand seeing you like this."

Samuels closed the door and stepped out with me, pressing a button so the garage door could open. I pressed in the combination into the keypad, pulling the door open and throwing my bag into the passenger seat. I ducked my head and stood up, nodding to Samuels as I climbed into the deep-blue colored Jaguar and pressed a button, the engine revving before screeching away into the darkness.

The headlilghts shone across the road as I drove away from the only family I had ever known. But I sucked it up and pressed the screen of the GPS, a welcoming sound turning on.

"Destination: Blue Dragon," the woman's voice said in a monotone. "State: Conneticuit."

I pulled out the thing that I wouldn't leave without, gazing at it silently. The Villia crest. I would make my decision soon, and I'd be ready for anything that would be thrown my way.

"Turn right," the monotone voice muttered again.

Blue Dragon, here I come.

~End of Chapter Nine~