She was so pretty.
They didn't know her name; some brand-new private, pretty pretty private, fresh out of the military school with her big blue eyes and her tight little ass showing through her uniform, all tan skin and bright sun and soft human skin. She was hot, and so pretty, and she knew it too- twirling those long blonde locks between her fingers and giggling, shifting from foot to foot, biting her lips so they plumped up and turned pink. Like she was just the cutest little thing you ever did see. Pretending- because everyone was always pretending- that she didn't know precisely how attractive she was. Submissive, gorgeous, and probably dumb as a post- the perfect lady love. The kind of girl any military man would wish for.
She was disgusting.
The feeling of hatred in their heart was almost too much to contain; it threatened to burst their tiny, fluttering chest, overflow from their fragile shape and burn through to the bone. Who did she think she was, anyway? Wasn't the military supposed to be a professional environment? How dare she work her way through military school- a challenging feat, they had thought- just to stand there flirting like some street walker- no doubt with any half-decent man that came by, too. She had no standards, no sense of dignity. Someone like her could have only made their way to a position in Central by whoring herself out, lying on her back and writhing like a worm and getting her teachers to write her tests, because she was too weak-willed and too miserable to do anything herself. Stupid, dumb, disgusting human bitch. Getting those stupid, dumb, disgusting men to work for her. The epitome of vile human nature.
He wouldn't fall for it though. He was so much better than she was.
They fluttered their wings anxiously, trying to shift on the windowsill to get a better look at his face. His expression from here was unclear, his face turned away, unreadable. He wasn't impressed, was he? He didn't like her, did he? Surely not. Surely, he of all people wouldn't fall for such stupid lowlife behaviour. He was better than other humans, by far.
Kimblee was standing still before the desk- as still and refined as he usually was- and then he turned, his face coming into view. He was giving the woman a little smile. Why was he smiling? Did he think she was pretty? They couldn't see where his eyes were through the haze of the glass- no amount of shifting in this compact bird's body could lend a clearer view. Was he looking at her- really looking at her, eyes going up and down her body, like so many men did to their older sister? How could he like her? How could he think she was pretty?
Does he ever think I'm pretty?
So pathetic she was. Imperfect humanity. She was nothing, no one, a worthless crushable insect. If they really wanted to they could break down the window right now- transform into a tiger or a bear or even their true self-
-no, they wouldn't do that, not in front of him-
-they could rip her head off in the office just like that, in seconds. Watch the blood spray over everything and listen to the air and shit coming squirting out of her body. They could tear out her intestines and throw them around like garlands, or poison her with a snake's bite that made her flesh turn blue and puff up like a balloon. They could pull out her spine and pluck out her eyeballs, make her sag into a puddle of flesh without her bones, burn her face with acid until there was nothing pretty about her at all-
And then what?
That wouldn't fix anything, really. They would only get in trouble. He still wouldn't look at them like that.
They watched Kimblee laugh mildly at something the woman had said, his face a picture of perfect gentlemanly charm.
No, that wouldn't fix anything at all.
Envy didn't want to destroy her.
Envy wanted to be her.
They took flight, suddenly unable to handle seeing that sight anymore.
In the end, it's always that, isn't it?