Sette.
1. Pride
He tastes the copper in his mouth, the warmth of his own blood. It's disgusting and a sign of weakness. If one were to judge, that is. With a growl that wasn't quite that loud Daemon spits the mixture of blood and his own saliva on the ground and turns ice cold eyes on Alaude.
"Can't control yourself, hun? And here I thought you would have outgrown that. Shame." His voice is a purr, deceptively loving and caring. An illusion, just like everything else that he did and said and was.
Alaude's body stiffens. Something raises and then dies down inside of him – again and again, like a fire so close to burning out. "Don't speak. It's disgusting." He finally breathes out, fisting his bruised fingers tighter together. It takes a lot out of him not to let the instincts take over once more, but Alaude doesn't want to give Daemon the pleasure.
2. Wrath
It feels like something has been broken deep inside. The shards cut in Alaude's very being. It's foreign, almost weakening. But at the same time it numbs his head and gives way to strength and speed he had kept locked away and far from others.
It's all because of Daemon's betrayal; he promises himself and allows the rage take over even more. It doesn't matter anymore what he beat down and what kind of blood was spilled. All that he wants is to wrap his fingers around a slender neck and choke until there is no air left in Daemon's lungs and the body lays still on burned-down earth.
"Now, now, this is even lower than before." The traitor chuckles somewhere inside of Alaude's head and the rage boils over and spills, "Just like a wounded and runaway beast. I almost want to be caught now."
Words mean nothing and are just there to ridicule and tease. They both know it too well.
3. Gluttony
They had gone too far. There was no going back, no stopping and no way to escape. Like fire burned everything it touched, they fell further down this sin and couldn't quite care.
More of the bruises that healed slowly. More of the curses that rolled off their lips in angry whispers and more of the secrecy that seemed like it would crash down when touched wrongly. It was addicting. It was a drug. It took over and bound and chained down and then killed them slowly from the inside.
But neither cared. They got off this strange thing that substituted for actually human contact. They craved and needed and could not live a day without the hate and the friction and the desire to tear and take and break.
4. Envy
Sometimes Daemon would catch himself wishing that every single person, Giotto included, would lose the ability to speak and touch. Who were they to touch and speak and even look at what was his?
Alaude was his toy, his source of entertainment and a cure for boredom. No one else was allowed to have him. No one else could have the man who consisted of pride and solitude and pure, raw power that destroyed everything that stood in its path.
He wasn't sure how to feel about this need to own everything about Alaude. But Daemon was everything if not open to everything new so the next time that they hid behind closed and locked doors he made sure to mark what was his. He fed the beast that did not like to share fully and then waited for it to wake once more.
5. Sloth
It was hot and heavy. Hard to breath. Hard to move. Hard to care when the weight and heat on him had spread all over his skin and flesh, making sure that it will linger there for a while. He wasn't against it, not much at least. Even for him there were times when the warmth of another human was needed, craved.
With a huff Alaude looked to the arm laid across his chest and then followed it to the sleeping face of Daemon, so seemingly peaceful and even kind of innocent. But the Mist held no innocence, his soul was black and twisted and even more. And yet here they were – wrapped in sheets and breathing in the morning air.
"Fucking hell." The Cloud mutters under his breath before closing his eyes once more and letting sleep take over. Come later time he will deny this ever happening, the thoughts and the touches and the warmth that would not leave his body for days.
6. Lust
Whenever they give into the carnal desire they make no sounds. They move against each other, slower and faster. Sometimes they take it slow, just for laughs and sometimes they break everything beneath them.
It's hot and there is no air but Daemon still moves, quickens his pace and his fingers dig into the scarred skin of Alaude's hips. There will be bruises and new cuts in the shape of his nails. He moves harder, faster still and tries to lure out the quiet grunts that Alaude sometimes gives, almost too quiet to be heard. The heat comes from somewhere inside of the Cloud, from the core of Daemon's being as well. At one point they melt together and become one and then the world stills around them.
"I want to go again." Daemon whispers and licks the skin of Alaude's exposed and sweaty neck. The only place that lacks the shadows of battles fought and won. "You can still go on, don't you?" He leaves small marks behind, kissing it all better soon after.
"Shut your face and move. Before I change my mind." Alaude pants back, his voice just slightly strained and barely betraying the need for more.
7. Greed
Daemon wants everything for himself and to leave nothing for others. What was the use of owning something if it still will be touched by those who don't deserve to touch it? What was his will always be his and no one else will even be able to see it.
"That's why you are mine, love." Laughter snakes through his words and Daemon pushes the cane deeper inside the body under him. Red flows out, just like the river of the dead. "You are mine and no one else's." Daemon repeats again and again. Like a broken record, he's stuck and can't get out.
There was no reply to him. No biting curse and no threat that spoke more than it let on. All that was left was an empty shell. A shell that had fallen victim for the selfish needs of a man broken and twisted and gone too far.