Those eyes on him made Peter squirm a little, and he hated the fact that he felt like his skin was crawling. Everything about Sylar made him uncomfortable, particularly being in the same room with him now. Swallowing heavily, his brow furrowed heavily and he shook his head, breathing in and out slowly and surely as he tried to keep his composure. When the other man sat down beside him, he cringed inwardly, biting his lower lip and resisting the immediate instinct to scoot away, as far away from Sylar as he could. Everything within him was telling him to run - to get the fuck out of there, and away from the murderer sitting next to him now.
He didn't move.
The question drew a brief, dark sigh from his lips before he shook his head slightly. "Headaches I'm used to. You get used to it after a while." That wasn't entirely truthful, really, but it mostly applied.