Beautiful
Cephied Variable
She used to ask him about his memories. She would run her long, painted fingers through his dark hair and coo: "Oh, my darling son. Don't you remember? Our magneficent house on the hill with the library where you would read for hours?"
He pulled away none too gently, a sneer on his young and tart face and deny it all. He would ask her to feed him stories of his childhood- of his father's betrayal. She would alway end the stories with a sigh and a hand on his cheek, "You were so beautiful, darling. Just like him."
One of the most important things Envy ever learned was that they all had memories. Were haunted by them in fact, and the longer they lived, the more they remembered. Envy could remember long afternoons studying alchemy in the library, and he could remember his mother singing songs beside the fireplace in the evening. But most of all, he remembered the way his golden hair duled and his gums turned bloody and his teeth fell out and his moods grew more erratic and less rational.
He could remember the face of his father turning away in shame and disgust.
fin.