[ Swallowing thickly, Peter digs a heel into the ground, not entirely sure why he isn't fighting back harder to get out of Sylar's ghostly chokehold. Maybe it's because he still can breathe -- because the threat is only imminent and not overwhelming. And yet it's all too consuming without taking his breath away. Literally. Maybe if Peter could understand what was going on, he'd be more willing to fight back, and yet he's well aware that fighting right now would get him absolutely nowhere apart from dead as a doornail. ]
Sylar-- [ Voice a rough growl, partially from the hand still around his neck and partially from his own irritation, Peter offers up a shove to the other man's shoulder, though it's weak by anyone's standards. He simply does it to emphasize the word, a silent 'don't do that' that's being left unspoken but lingering there anyway. But each exploratory movement of Sylar's fingers is near making Peter twitch, heat flooding up underneath the other man's hands and making Peter all the more tense in all the wrong ways.
But the other man's name is all he can force out because the adrenaline-fueled-rush of the moment is practically making him squirm and somewhere in the back of Peter's head, he's screaming at himself to get a move on, to get out. And yet, he's still staring back, starting to breathe harder from eye contact alone and the gathering intensity of the moment, waiting for things to combust. ]
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Sylar-- [ Voice a rough growl, partially from the hand still around his neck and partially from his own irritation, Peter offers up a shove to the other man's shoulder, though it's weak by anyone's standards. He simply does it to emphasize the word, a silent 'don't do that' that's being left unspoken but lingering there anyway. But each exploratory movement of Sylar's fingers is near making Peter twitch, heat flooding up underneath the other man's hands and making Peter all the more tense in all the wrong ways.
But the other man's name is all he can force out because the adrenaline-fueled-rush of the moment is practically making him squirm and somewhere in the back of Peter's head, he's screaming at himself to get a move on, to get out. And yet, he's still staring back, starting to breathe harder from eye contact alone and the gathering intensity of the moment, waiting for things to combust. ]