Chapter 52 Rosalie
FIFTY-TWO
ROSALIE
“Where are we?” I asked, my head feeling heavy and my tongue fuzzy. The alcohol was really settling in on me now.
“My place,” Sylar said, helping me out of the car in a parking garage.
I let him guide me to an elevator and watched as he inserted a key. The elevator brought us to the top, and he placed his hand on the small of my back before leading me into a hallway with only one door.
“What is this?” I mumbled.
“I told you. It’s my place.” He tapped a card on a pad, and the door unlocked. He pushed it open, bringing me inside to a lavish apartment.
“This is yours?” I asked, my vision blurry as I took in the modern decor. An open floor plan. Black leather furniture. Granite counters. Stairs that led upward to a dark hallway. Windows lined one side of the room, allowing you to look out at the city.
“Yes. I don’t get to spend as much time here as I’d like, but that’s fine. It’s a nice place to hang my hat after a night on the town.”
I followed him to the couch and sat. I was so drunk. I’d been terrified on the ride here, but now I was numb inside and filled with fuzz. At least that’s how it felt.
“Want a drink?” he asked.
“I think I drank too much already.”
“Nah. One more.” He got up and went to a bar in the room. I watched him pour each of us a drink, then bring it back and hand me mine.
I took it and sipped, wincing at the burn.
“Bourbon,” he said, smirking at me.
I watched him down his in one go before getting up and grabbing the bottle to bring it back. He refilled his glass and drank again.
“You live alone?” I asked, trying not to sway.
“Usually.”
“What does that mean?”
He shrugged. “Family stays sometimes. Not often, but you know how that is.”
I said nothing and sipped at my drink again.
“How are you doing?” He slid closer to me.
I shrugged. “Shit.”
“Better than dead. Pat yourself on your back. You’re doing the best you can.”
I drank again, finishing the glass, before getting to my feet and going to the massive picture window and staring out at the lit-up city below.
“Drink until it doesn’t hurt so much. It helps,” Sylar’s soft voice sounded out near my ear as he pushed another drink into my hand.
“Promise?”
“Best that I can,” he replied, drinking from his own glass. I followed and swallowed mine down.
“Do you dance, Rosalie?”
“Dance?”
“Mhmm.” Soft music sounded out. I turned to find him putting his phone back into his pocket.
Before I could tell him I was too drunk to dance, he was placing his hands on my waist.
“Dance with me, little moonbeam.”
“Moonbeam?” I looked up into his blue eyes. Eyes so much like my Foxy’s.
“He called you sunshine, yeah?”
“He did,” I whispered. “He doesn’t now.”
“Well, then, now you’re moonbeam,” he said, ducking his head. “Relax. I don’t bite unless you beg.”
I relaxed against him, letting him sway with me to the soft music filtering around us.
“You’re really beautiful,” he murmured. “When was the last time someone told you that you were magic?”
“It’s been a long time.”
“Allow me to break the streak. You, moonbeam, are magic.”
“I feel more like a curse.”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
I nodded as I stared up at him.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “I’m a cursebreaker. I can make your dreams come true. Tell me, moonbeam. What do you dream of? What do you wish for?”
“Freedom,” I choked out. “Love. Safety. Ethan being OK. Fox. I dream of him.”
“Mm, what if I can give you some of those things? Would you tell me yes?”
“Yes,” I murmured, my chest aching. “What do I have to give you for it?”
A tiny smile cut his lips upward.
“Kiss me until I tell you to stop.”
“What?” I tried to focus on his handsome face. “K-Kiss you? I can’t. I-I have my guys—”
“Do you?” he challenged.
I licked my lips. It was a valid question. I definitely didn’t feel like I had anything anymore. Not even my sanity.
I was too drunk for this. My mind wasn’t right.
“I’m too drunk,” I muttered as we continued to sway gently to the music.
“The perfect excuse to make the right decision,” he said.
I said nothing as we danced.
“Think about what they’re doing. Or who they’re doing,” he whispered. “A girl on the phone. You’re lost. You’re alone. But he’s out making deals while little moonbeam tries to heal.”
My throat tightened at his words. How did he even know? Anson told me Sylar just had a way of knowing things. It was why sparring with him had been so hard.
“You’re angry. Tell me how angry you are,” he continued.
“I am angry,” I choked out. “I’m hurting.
I’m furious. I-I want to scream and make Enzo love me again.
I want Ethan to feel the same way about me as I do about him.
I want Cole to want Anson to be with us.
I’m so frustrated and heartbroken. I want my Foxy back.
I want to sing. I-I want to go back in time and… and…”
“Fix it all,” he finished for me.
I nodded as I stared up into his blue eyes. He reached out and cradled my face before running his thumb gently along my trembling bottom lip.
“If you kiss me, I promise everything will be OK.”
“How?”
“Because I’m magic too.” He leaned in.
My breath hitched.
I’d never kissed anyone other than the guys and Ian, but I tried to force that ugly memory out of my head.
“Kiss me, moonbeam. Put it all into motion. Make your wishes come true.”
“What if everything gets ruined?”
“Nonsense. It’s already ruined. Kiss me.” His warm breath blew across my lips.
“I’m scared.”
“Stop being afraid. Take control of your life. Be in charge. Make the move. Kiss me.”
“What if—”
“Stop thinking. Kiss me.”
“Sylar—”
“Kiss. Me.” He gripped my chin. “Set yourself free. Move the pieces on the board.”
We stared one another down for a long time. I couldn’t do this. It wasn’t right.
But…
“Rosalie,” he murmured. “Let me show you the freedom you crave. Make the move. Kiss me, pretty girl.”
I closed my eyes, tears trailing down my cheeks. I’d never made a move on anything in my life. I always let others decide. Enzo no longer wanted to marry me. Ethan didn’t want me. Cole was barely hanging on. Fox. He was gone. My Foxy was gone. Forever.
And I’d lost Ani.
I closed the distance between us, letting go for once in my life, and pressed my lips to his.
He came to life beneath me and kissed me back. Within seconds, his lips were parted, and his tongue was wrestling with mine.
I didn’t even realize we’d moved to the couch and were tangled in one another’s arms until his hand was beneath my skirt, resting on my hip.
I couldn’t think straight.
Kissing him really did feel like magic.
Of course, I was so wasted that maybe I was hallucinating.
But it felt good for someone to give a damn about me. Enzo was already talking to another girl anyway. Satisfaction rolled through me as I kissed Sylar.
And god, could he kiss.
“Fuck,” he growled against my lips. “You fucking goddess.”
I whimpered softly against his lips as he nipped at mine.
Shamelessly, I rubbed myself against him, making him groan against my lips, his kiss deepening until I didn’t know where he ended and I began.
“I-I have to stop. I.. I …”
“I say when,” he said between kisses. “That was the deal.”
“I-I can’t do this.”
“You’re already doing it.”
“Oh god,” I choked out as he continued to press his body against mine.
“Pay the devil, moonbeam. You promised.” He bit me again, making me cry out. He swallowed my cry like he was starved.
“Please. Please. I-I can’t. Sylar—”
He slowed the kiss, both of us breathless as he stared into my eyes. He pulled away gently and cradled my face.
“What have I done?” I rasped, tears spilling from my eyes.
“You just had your wish granted,” he whispered. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
I cried softly, and he pulled me close as I sobbed into his neck, his arms wrapped firmly around me as we lay on his couch.
“It’s OK. I promise it is. Sometimes we have to hurt to move forward.
It’s part of the process. Trust it, even if it seems insanely fucked up.
” He kissed the top of my head. “Trust the process. I’ve made it this way for a reason.
Someday, when we get to where we’re going, and if you’ve been keeping track, you’ll feel silly for ever questioning it. ”
He raked his fingers through my hair gently. “Sleep, little moonbeam. The coming days are going to hurt, but I promise, they’re leading you somewhere great.”
I twisted my fingers in his black t-shirt as he hummed one of the songs I’d written with Anson softly.
A song we’d never shared with anyone.
But then again, I was drunk. Maybe it was all just a fever dream.
I really hoped so.
I closed my eyes, and before long, I was drifting off, the gentle rumble of Sylar humming beneath my ear.