(EDIT) Fixed the description, it should flow much more neater now, hopefully.
A.N. –An update that took its sweet, sweet time. New school year and my muses were uncooperative, I do apologize for it. There's extra gore for conpensation…? XD
Again, thank you so, so very much for the reviews. They make me incredibly happy.
And we're back to Envy's point of view here. If he seems OOC, it will be because he has been just ordered to kill Edward and is under the influence of…various things. XD
I explored some completely new things here, and my style has changed too. I hope you will enjoy~
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Disclaimer: Characters don't belong to me. FullMetal Alchemist belongs to Hiromu Arakawa.
Lyrics: The Sharpest Lives – My Chemical Romance
Pairing: Envy x Ed
Warning: References to yaoi/shonen ai (love between men), heavy gore (including some slight self-cannibalism), alcohol and drug abuse, violence, language.
Part Three
Sharpest Lives
Well it rains and it pours
When you're out on your own
If asked among those who knew a fraction of her nature, almost everyone question could reassure the enquirer that Lust was not an anxious person. In fact, her cool, poised demeanour, with her icy seductiveness, was the image that burned into the average person's mind after meeting her.
However, as she stood by the large, elaborately crafter window of the mansion, gloved hands twisting her lush, dark curls around her fingers, the sole emotion radiating off her was worry and anxiousness.
Outlined eyes were narrowed and her usual coy smirk was replaced with a worried nibbling on her painted lower lips as her amethyst eyes searched the street, trying to distinguish a figure behind the heavy curtain of silvery rain.
The sin was about as superstitious as she was anxious. However, having picked up a couple of dusty poetry collections in the old library, their peculiar messages and imagery sparking her interest, she couldn't help noting the rather dark foreboding symbolism the weather was.
Such heavy, howling winds, accompanied by the crashing of the heavens never meant anything less then a small disaster.
That was one of her unsaid reasons why she had rooted down next to the window, waiting impatiently for her brother to return to the mansion. The thought that he was out there, on his own…however capable she knew he was of taking of himself, somehow, the mere thought made her even more uneasy.
If I crash on the couch
Can I sleep in my clothes?
The old clock's soft ticking amplified to thundering as her senses sharpened out with her growing annoyance, tiredness and nervousness. She rested her forehead against the cool glass, another frustrated sigh leaving her slim frame.
"Lust?" a soft voice called out from behind the slumping sin, causing her to straighten up, trying to collect her slowly shattering composure.
"Yes…Sloth?" she replied in her smooth baritone, turning to face her brunette sister, who stood in the doorway, clad in her usual smart, lilac suit. She must have just finished her duties in the Fuhrer's office…the sudden realization of the lateness of the hour and Envy's continued absence made Lust's tired frown deepen.
The addressed cocked her head to the side, gaze questioning and slightly puzzled. Surprised and unsettled at seeing her role-model for composure in such state, she walked forwards to lay comforting hand on her naked shoulder.
"Lust?" she murmured. "…what's wrong?"
"…I'm…tired." She answered a minute later, eyes closed as she massaged her forehead, frown deepening. "…and worried."
Her sister blinked before her gaze traced the previous position of the black-haired homunculus before nodding. "Were you waiting for Envy-san to get back?"
Lust nodded, finding no point to lie to her youngest sibling.
"Go and rest, Lust-onee-san." The brunette smiled, using the nickname when she wanted to get her point as firmly and lovingly as she could across, for the stubborn sin's benefit. "You've been up all week. I will tell you when he comes back."
Lust protested weakly, starting on her list of 'one thousand reasons why I should be the one staying up and the rest of you sleeping and let me take care of things' (compiled in her spare time and kept for emergency situations) when the placid sin's firm stare cut her off.
"No excuses." She smiled, wagging a finger and pointing to the door.
"B-"
"Rest, Lust.' Sloth cut through, chuckling when the curled beauty's jaw slacked open, then snapped shut as she rolled her eyes and threw her gloved hands up in defeat.
"Okay. Just don't make me regret sleeping…"
Sloth smiled, bowing, making the other swipe her gently across her head and continue towards the exit, high heels' clicks echoing through the empty room.
Lust paused when she was at the door, brushing the wooden frame slowly, looking over her shoulder, mouth open – but she shut it slowly, turning her head with a soft swish of ebony curls.
Sloth followed her with her gaze until the dark green velvet melted in one with the shadows of the corridor before moving to sit on the plush armchair closest to the window. Posture as straight and organized as she were still in the office, folder on her knees, she began to shuffle through the documents.
The clock on the wall ticked by, the silver hands moving steadily around the yellowed carton with agonizing slowness.
Locking the door, Lust dropped the keys carelessly on her dressing table, glancing briefly at the faded photographs tucked inside the wooden frame. She reached forward, tips of her fingers brushing the faces of the figures before turning to lower herself on the bed.
Fingering her hair, her exhausted amethyst gaze turned to scan the blurred outlines of the outside world.
…where the bloody fuck are you, Envy?...and what sort of mission did you get…?
Knowing Dante, and remembering your reaction…
Just get back safe.
'Cause I've spent the night dancing
I'm drunk, I suppose
If it looks like I'm laughing
I'm really just asking to leave
A mile away, in the heart of the Central city, buzzing with dark life despite the monstrous weather conditions and the late hours, behind the crumbling wooden door and the bodies of the solemn bouncers, was where the much worried-about sin could be located.
Throwing another drink back, Envy wiped his mouth carelessly and hurled the cracked glass in the vague direction of the bartender, smirking upon her frightened shriek and desperate moves to dive out of the way as the glass crashed in the wall behind her, shattering into a million fragments. They showered on her crouching figure, amplifying her screeches – to be drowned in the pounding music, mixed with the loud shouts of enjoyment, harsh swearing and the thick smoke.
The green haired male leaned back against the nearest wall, posture relaxed, guard unnaturally let down as he surveyed the mass of swaying bodies, the heavy beat of the music vibrating through his lithe body. He could feel the bass pounding around his stomach, head rolling forwards, moving slightly with the tune.
The alcohol swirled inside his blood stream, mingling with the countless other pints devoured hours before.
Of the number, he has lost the count hours ago, the little sanity and common sense about alcohol thrown out of the metaphoric window with kind regards to him and his mother. Once sharp edges and distinctive colours had fuzzed out and faded till the sin's entire surroundings have faded into one enormous slate-coloured slur.
Just like the recollection of his sleazed mind.
If anyone would have had the guts or the insanity to ask the green-haired male the obvious about, or by the bare curiosity of exactly how much he had drunk, the answer would have been a slightly slurred but firm negative, denying reply – perhaps accompanied by a few casual bone-crushing punches, yet negative nonetheless.
He was just getting a slight distraction from the unsettling events previously in the evening.
It was just some casual relaxation.
He was certainly not drunk.
The sole reason why the room was in such a peculiar state was merely an optical illusion due to the bad lighting conditions.
And that slight dull ache in his chest was just from the time some bastard tried to drag him out by the shirt.
Previously mentioned fat, bald bastard was currently caked to the back wall of the pub, the multicoloured, alien blend of his blood and brains slowly diluting and enriching the putrid black filth of the sewers.
Human's interpretations of facial features and behaviour was really downright pathetic..
How could he mistake his gesture for a mocking laugh?
His fingers clenched around the newest glass, flinching when his skin dug into the chipped edge, stubbornly staring ahead at the ceiling, the bright lights reflecting the bright amethyst of his eye before drowning in the huge black voids of his pupils.
This alone, you're in time for the show
You're the one that I need
I'm the one that you loathe
One of the girls, curves barely concealed by her ripped attire, eyes glittering with the effects of either numerous pints or something slightly stronger, swung out of the dance floor and stumbled against the stained table Envy was leaning against. Throwing her long blonde braid back, body shaking with drunken giggles, she waved to the immortal, who was observing her with a raised eyebrow.
"What'cha doing out here on yer own?" she slurred with a slurred attempt at a seductive tone, one hand on her bony hips, the emerald dye flashing in the bright lights.
"…watching." Was Envy's curt answer, eyes already turning somewhere else, disinterest practically reeking off his rigid posture.
With a disappointed pout, the blonde girl huffed and flicked her long braid in the other's face, smirking victoriously when it made contact with the sin's face with a particularly loud smack, and attempted to glide back onto the dance floor – only to find out that heights and high heels did not always agree with each other, and that gravity was always waiting for the opportunity to make its existence known.
Rubbing his sore cheeks, Envy's scowl soon turned into a smirk at the sound of the blonde's pained shriek as she tumbled forwards into the crowd, pulling several others with her onto the ground.
If his hearing served him correctly, there were a few damaged eyeballs somewhere too…
Snickering, he raised the glass to his lips, hissing in relief at the now-familiar burn of the alcohol on the skin of his throat.
Even though he had been doing practically nothing but drinking for what seemed like hours now, he felt parched. Setting the empty glass down, his eyes spied for more deliciously bloody damaged and mutilated limbs he could go and crush further in the tangled crowd around the furiously protesting, and rather loud blonde girl.
…crowd…
…loud exclamations…
…exchange of a few blows…
…a blonde with bared fangs, screeching like a frustrated harpy just woken from slumber…
This seems all too familiar…
Growling, he clutched his head, nails sinking into the already scarred scalp in attempt to block the sharp blocks of pain, accompanying the small scraps of memory that had not yet been repressed by the sleazed monster within, its growl never loud enough to repress that one small, thin, pleading fraction of a question.
"Why?"
A sharp snarl left his hunched figure, alerting a few of the waitresses nearby. Their alert gazes only grew more alarmed when they caught sight of the narrowed amethyst slits, blazing with hostility and disgust.
Frowning as he watched them inch off, trying not to be conspicuous to him murderous gaze, the sin snorted and threw his head back, a hollow laugh escaping his lips as he recognized one of the small brunettes in the depths of the provocative uniform – one that had been especially eager in getting his attention a couple of weeks back.
When he was wearing the cool, composed mask of the role he embodied.
And now, when he was unmasked, his aurora of clumsy lethalness hanging around him like a bad stench, she was fleeing like a little frightened deer who had caught a whiff of the swamps.
Oh the dear, sweet, twisted irony of it all.
With a sudden movement, he grabbed the girl's frail arm, his smirk only growing wider at her horrified attempt to scream for help.
Ignoring her squirms, the sin pulled the girl closer, until her terrified pools of hazel, swimming with unshed tears, was in level with his chin. He then leaned forwards, chuckling as she flinched away from his breath.
"Why so shy tonight?" he purred sultrily, the slight slurs making him sound all the more unsettling, and causing the girl's struggles to get more panicked. "Your wishes were entirely different a couple of nights ago."
"T…that's because I was blind!" she spat angrily, indignation rising to her cheeks. "Let go of me!"
"Blinded by the outside?" he cooed mockingly, tightening his grip on her wrists, crazen smirk growing all the more satisfied at her pained yelps as his fingers slowly began to build up the pressure on her frail human bones. "Believe me, I could really use your company tonight."
This time, he was not lying. He really felt like taking the girl with him.
To the nearest alley corner.
And when all prying eyes were hidden by the darkness, he would finally have someone to take the built-up frustration out of…and leave the beautiful mutilated carcass for the rest of the world to see in the morning.
"Well, I don't!" she screeched, trying to push him away by kicking his bare shins, humiliated tears dribbling down her powdered cheeks. "Let me GO, you monster!"
You can watch me corrode like a beast in repose
'Cause I love all the poison
Away with the boys in the band
Much to her surprise, he flinched at the last word, snarling low in his throat as he suddenly released her, making her stumble backwards and collapse unceremoniously against the bar. She sat up, wheezing and clutching her bruised wrists, the taste of adrenalin bitter on her tongue.
She found his figure in the crowd, and sent him the foulest glare she could muster.
He just rolled his eyes, unfocused eyes laced with pity and sadness.
"You're all the same." He said to no-one in particular, body already turned away from the girl. "You found it so easy to loathe your desires, don't you? Because pointing at the monster in the cage is much easier then seeing the human it originated and mutated out of."
The waitress frowned before sniffing indignantly, noting his slitted eyes with a mixture of shock and horror.
"…you're not human." She hissed, inching away.
"Thank your non-existent God." He snarled before turning away, sharp elbow digging in the obstacle ribs in a rather obvious gesture of wishing to go through.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glimpse of a bottle, abandoned on a table in favour of the promises of the dance floor. Without looking up, he swiped it with a hand, the cool surface welcome and all-too-familiar under his fingertips.
As he raised it to his chapped lips, he smirked wryly.
It was yet another surprisingly human trait he had become all-too-fond of recently.
The sharp taste upon first contact between liquid and skin.
The oh-so-satisfying burning and tingling of the sensitive surface of his throat.
And the blissful oblivion it bought.
He swallowed eagerly, eager to hide like the coward he was from the emotional strain and pressure of the last few hours.
Yes, he loved denial.
The blurriness, the borders and barriers washed and undistinguishable, both physically and emotionally.
He needed it.
He needed a stronger poison then the one corroding him away.
I've really been on a bender and it shows
So why don't you blow me a kiss before she goes?
The shards of the empty bottle joining the remains of his sisters under the heels of the crowd, Envy wiped his mouth carelessly, signature smirk back in place as he pushed through the crowd of swaying bodies. Occasionally, he let himself be pulled into a larger group, let himself sway with the bodies pressed together. He breathed in the sickly perfumes mixed with sweat and evaporated booze, forming a nauseating perfume. Yet, somehow, he welcomed the decay.
Thin arms brushing against the hips of every blonde he got near, a coy and questioning wink the automatic answer to any inquiring glances.
A mixture of responses.
Surprise, a hint of flattery, terror, sleaziness.
A kiss blown his way.
Simply a whiff of air blown from a pair of completely anonymous lips.
Plastic affection, just like the intention in grabbing the attention.
That's all this dirty underground hole promised.
That's all the rest of the evening – and the rest of his life now promised.
Why was he here? Why was he even wasting his time with the attempts for human interaction? Why?
That was still unclear.
He was simply letting the tentacles of instinct drag him along until he regained a fraction of consciousness.
Give me a shot to remember
And you can take all the pain away from me
A kiss and I will surrender
The sharpest lives are the deadliest to lead
A nudge from his left elbow snapped him out of his renewed conscious reverie, now standing in the shadowed corner, blank eyes giving the impression of taking interest in the crowd.
He cocked his head to glace at the intruder, his features sunken deep in the hood of his jacket.
"What?"
"…you look like you could use more then those bottles y've been chuggin' all night long, pal." The man chuckled in a surprisingly deep voice, pulling his gloved hands out of the deep pockets of the black hoodie, revealing his stash, well-protected from the prying eyes of the potential authority, and the possibility of confiscation.
Envy cocked an eyebrow, blinking, trying to get the lazy sheen of the cylinders and the labels of the packets into focus – s well of what the other was trying to offer in his extremely fragile attention.
"…what the fuck's that?" he grunted, causing the other to laugh quietly and –after looking around one last time – although the faces and poses of the ones surrounding them was a dead giveaway that they were either too occupied by their lovely counterparts to care the slightest what they were doing, or were engaged in rather similar hazy activities – before pressing a small packet in the immortal's limp hands with a wink.
"Try that, mate. Beats everythin'. And if you want more, just fin' me."
Before the other could question the disguised man's motives – or whether he intended on keeping his reproductive organs – hell, his damn head - the dealer had already been swallowed up by the monstrous jaws of the crowd, yearning for him and the small packets he wielded.
With slow, precise yet robotic movements, Envy slid the ridged edges of the re-sealable packet apart, frown deepening in realization as his nose caught a whiff of its content.
So this is the extreme to what humans go when destroying their conscious self…? he observed with just a hint of cynicism, one finger dipping into the dirty ebony crumbs, bringing it up to his nose. Resisting the urge to sneeze at the over-stimulation of his developed senses, he slowly inhaled the substance, eyes slipping shut.
As the powder began to mingle with his alcohol-ridden bloodstream, the sin's body buckled backwards to slump against the wall, head rolling back an angle with a satisfied snarl, teeth bared towards the ceiling, reflecting the whites of his eyes.
His hand dipped back into the bag smoothly, gathering another small dose, his maddened growling growing more ferocious and insanely desperate with every intoxicated inhaling.
He was playing with death.
Once again.
There he was again, embracing him with familiarity, shifting shape once again.
Even though they have met on so many occasions, none of them easily forgotten, it still managed to fool the sin to fall for its uncountable disguises.
Yet another ironic feature of his existence – a shape-shifter, doomed to cut fall for the skin-deep disguises of destiny.
He has chosen a particularly intriguing one this time, he had to admit.
A heroin-laced kiss pressed on his cold lips, sinewy arms of psychological seduction wrapped tight around his conscience, his inner thoughts being coaxed to fall apart under her burning touch. Like the poppy flower that was her cradle, she too is covered with silken sheen, crimson lethalness.
With the frenzied loathing the infiltrated body holds, she doesn't need to put any particular effort into her ministrations.
This is what living life in the knife edge does to you… he manages to growl internally before snarling again, another wave of artificial euphoria tearing through his fragile nerves, flooding him completely.
Surrendering to her urge to just simply let go.
Surrendering to the chance to grab the fragile, waxed feathers of pleasure for the small moment of freedom before the unmerciful rise of the Sun will burn the feathers and allow him to crash to the ground.
A light to burn all the empires
So bright the sun is ashamed to rise and be
In love with all of these vampires
So you can leave like the sane abandoned me
He wasn't really sure what gave him the final push for the events that followed afterwards.
Perhaps the blame was on the dealer, whose smouldering corpse was discovered the following morning by the horrified forensics, and the stricken military officials, frustrated they didn't find him first.
Perhaps the blame was on the bartender, who didn't refuse the sin his twenty-fourth drink.
Perhaps the entire blame and the responsibility rests on the shoulders of a petite, raven-haired girl, one who the officials labelled as the devil mistress and leader of the damned, created alchemical abomination cult.
Speculations, however, were the last thing on the crowd's mind, their voices all joined in a united screech of horror as they attempted to escape from the burning building.
Trampling over each other like frightened cattle, each individual pushed and shove at the ones surrounding them, panic and the growing heat consuming them rapidly.
Like a colony of rats, swarming from the flooding, infested sewers, the crowd spilled onto the streets, people spilling onto the sidewalks as their feet and minds gave away to their severe abuse just minutes ago. Wheezing, catching their breath – just to begin scream once again as they caught sight of the blazing orchestra of hell just a few metres behind them.
Dozens of names, swallowed by the choking smoke, supporting hands and heeding calls grabbed and dragged to safety – or crushed under careless, maniacal escape attempts.
And in the midst of the roaring inferno stood a solitary figure, in the midst of brilliant orange flames, smouldering hair fluttering in the heat.
Bony arms reached for the suffocating sky, dilated pupils contracting a fraction as the flesh was hungrily burnt away, peeling away to reveal the glistening surface of the bones. Long green tresses smouldered, glowing with red-hot ferocity, as if frustrated by the fact all the figure did was laugh.
Victorious smugness met harsh bitterness, drugged eyes shining with simple, meaningless joy, curved fangs bared towards the moon, features unflinching as the flames continued to devour at his freshly regenerated flesh and ragged attire.
A mocking to the masses now fleeing their sanctuary, ablaze with the alcoholic, pyrokinetic fury.
An offering to all the bloodsuckers and sadistic scum Envy knew lurked around Central, and knew were now observing the scenario with mixed feelings, saliva dripping with anticipation.
A personal gesture of utter loathing, as his foot connected with the sinewy, half-burnt joints of the dying male's neck, smirk deepening as he felt the cool kiss of blood on his legs, foot gliding to its destination smoothly, tearing through mutilated flesh and bone almost effortlessly, with almost illegal satisfaction.
Burning amethyst eyes searched the choking sky, bloodstained hands clenching as he glared at the slowly fading stars almost challengingly – before his accusing gaze whipped to the swarming crowd.
"Run, you useless motherfucking bastards!" he hollered, hate choking his voice ever so slightly, nails digging deep grooves into his palms, mutilated face with its charred, half-recovered flesh with only his murderously gleaming visible. "Run before I get you and drag you back in the flames myself!
But, disturbingly enough, the sadistic pleasure and the searing teeth of the flames did little to quench the small observation that he was once again being left on his own.
Standing solitary among the flames, the banisters crashing down around him as they surrendered to the monstrous appetite of the blaze.
Abandoned in a nest of dying corpses and charred bodies.
Alone.
Again.
The poppy lady soothed him, a small, light yet urging kiss on his temple, taking his hand and dragging him away from the collapsing charade, rephrasing into his previous form, burnt flesh slowly growing back onto his immortal figure, his bloodied footsteps slowly fading into the darkness of a littered side-alley, void pupils fixed ahead, dulled ears not hearing any of the terrified screams as the building fell to the ground.
There's a place in the dark where the animals go
You can take off your skin in the cannibal glow
Juliet loves the beat and the lust it commands
Drop the dagger and lather the blood on your hands, Romeo
Although his instinct had suggested nothing short of catastrophically insane lately, Envy had no other silence to turn to when asking for advice – or to lean on to guide his body when his mind couldn't perform accurately enough to take care of said task.
Which was the explanation he could offer when his feet suddenly halted, head snapping upwards to catch sight of a blurred outline of a lampion.
Dirtied and torn by the fury of yesterday's storm, melted wax smearing the printed floral designs, the sole source of light swayed unsteadily in the breeze, illuminating fractions of his surroundings for a few seconds – but it was enough for the sin to be able to locate it.
Attempting to clear his eyesight, he stepped forwards, dried branches cracking under his bare feet, the stinging of the rough thorns barely registering to the his drugged nervous system, still held embraced and lined by the poppy lady.
Fingers brushed against the rough bark of the oak tree, sliding down until they met five parallel groves, an inch deep into the gnarled substance of the tree. Nails gently scraped along them, reaching down to rub against the edges of the holes adorning the waist of the trunk.
The Homunculus smirked with sour familiarity and nostalgia, withdrawing his hands and resting his forehead against the aged bark.
He knew this place all too well.
Lust called it his 'hot-headed corner' – one far away from the heart of the city, surrounded by a thin fringe of ancient trees.
A little place where Envy often came to blow off steam and drive his frustrations and often uncontrollable anger down on immobile objects who offered some resistance and whose deaths or mutilations wouldn't result in moral issues and clashed with the law.
Also, trees wouldn't squawk and complain like some pathetic ways of murderous stress relief he could mention.
That particular tree suffered quite a lot of blows from the enraged sin – yet it remained standing strong and proud, bearing its deep scars and welcoming back the sin with honest and upheld pride.
Just like a certain alchemist, whose pride sometimes challenged to exceed the sin's own…
A fist slammed down into the bark, right next to the older groove, teeth gritted.
Damn it. Damn it all to hell.
Why was everything reminding him of that damned blonde? He was dead. History. Gone forever.
…by his hands…
He raised his hands to his face slowly, the lampion casting an unhealthy, sickly yellow glow to them, blood and bits of skin clinging to his nails. For a second, they held absolutely no familiarity at all.
Amethyst eyes brooded over their murderous outlines - before his fangs sunk into the fleshy part of his thumb.
Ferociously growling, he began to rip mouthfuls of flesh away, eyes wide with loathing as he chewed the soft tissue with renewed venom, not stopping when he felt his teeth chip on the surface of his bones, arm already drenched in blood.
He didn't slow down when he felt his knees shaking from the self-inflicted agony, his hand little more then a bloody mess of flesh and crunched bone, stumps of his fingers gleaming with glistening gory glory.
However, when he felt the chipped edge of his nails scratch the inside of his mouth, the Homunculus snapped out of his trance.
With strangled realization, he lurched forwards, shoulders heaving as the content of his stomach was unceremoniously vomited out at the roots of the tree.
Clutching his stomach with his mutilated hands, Envy flinched as he slumped forwards, forehead painfully colliding with the hardened bark, the tremors spreading throughout his body as he heaved up the alcohol consumed before, the acidic aftertaste burning his throat and tongue viciously, making his gagging even worse.
Bleary eyes stared ahead, as empty and as helpless as the glass orbs of a porcelain doll. A tongue slowly darted out to clean his stained lips, the searing agony gradually fading to a dull, pulsating ache as his body dutifully began to repair his hand, bones regenerating, nerves and tissue knitting themselves back together.
Envy raised the offending limb, watching as the first layer of skin began to creep up his wrist – and wondered whether any of the heroes in those olden novels ever had to wash their hands of their heroines' blood.
He could swear that golden speck in the dark was mocking him, its smooth, graceful movements cutting through the darkness like a sharpened blade.
It circled around the lampion, delicate wings fluttering with excitement at the sudden, unexpected warmth.
Envy could only smile wryly when its enthusiasm melted into frenzied horror as the papery appendages caught fire, the blaze consuming the fragile creature within seconds.
Its tiny drops of amber blood, trickling and evaporating with a foul-smelling hiss were just as mocking.
With rigid movements, he pushed himself to his feet, fingers brushing against the bark again, almost welcoming the rush of pain as he tore up his new skin, blood warm on his fingertips.
Hand bloodstained, once again.
With a soft sigh, Envy raised his head, diluted pupils boring into the faint outline of the moon, stomach giving another nauseous lurch, despite the soothing caress of his mind from the crimson intoxication.
Would those books have sold as much if Romeo was ordered to kill Juliet by his family…? he blearily questioned before shaking his head.
But of course. The more drama, the more suffering…the happier they are.
Is this why you fuckers have decided to weave and direct things this way?
Sheer craving for sick amusement?
Or you just want to show me just how much it hurts to fall?
His hand curled into a fist, save for one finger. He raised it high above his head towards the pearly globe, lips pulled into a snarl before he disappeared into the shadows again.
The wind picked up pace, making the lampion's movements turn wildly frenzied at the aura of unease left behind
I've really been on a bender and it shows
So why don't you blow me a kiss before she goes?
Half past four.
I know Envy-san's not the most punctual person, but this…it's worrying, even for him, the chestnut-haired Homunculus mused to herself, letting the papers dangle from her fingers onto the table.
Growing more concerned about Lust's wellbeing, Sloth considered going outside to make a phone-call to inquire Dante about Envy's whereabouts - when the front door slammed open, the roar of the rain previously muffled by the thick walls and window cutting through the slumbered silence of the room abruptly.
Sloth raised her head, both tense and expectant, flinching when she heard muffled swearing and a series of thuds, accompanied by crashing of china.
…Dante-sama's vase… she noted with a grim smile, setting the remaining documents aside and cautiously standing, slowly walking over to the doorway, hands extended, tips of the water tentacles already glowing under her sleeves. Past experience was screaming for a weapon, as she didn't fancy going out in the corridors wielding the poker from the fireplace.
…it was so…cliché. And the mess it left was really quite revolting.
Unlike most of her siblings, especially Gluttony, she couldn't quite stomach the mess rough killing bought. Which was why she was so grateful the clean, conventional methods her water powers allowed her.
Arms raised, she stepped outside to the corridor – to come face to face with a hunched, dripping figure, gripping the doorframe in attempt to stay upright.
His harsh breathing echoed through the corridor, as well as his soft growl, mixed with a snicker upon noticing Sloth's presence.
The youngest homunculus frowned, lowering her arms by a fraction. "…Envy-san…?" she voiced her suspicions aloud.
"…who do y'ah fucking think?" the figure answered, chuckling darkly.
Oh.
Suspicions confirmed.
Sloth heaved a dignified sigh of relief, lowering her arms, letting the aquamarine strands of her fabricated defence fade away into the darkness.
"Welcome back. Lust was worried about you." She smiled softly, moving forwards to close the door, wrinkling her nose as the sudden stench hit her as she moved closer to Envy.
Alcohol.
Filth.
Sleaziness.
Choking fumes and smoke.
Drugs.
Depression.
It practically radiated off the other's being, halting the water-wielder in her steps, eyes wide at the unexpected intensity of wretchedness reeking from the sin's person.
"…E…Envy-san?" she managed to croak out, her voice struggling to remain dignified. "W…where have you b…been?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" was the green-haired sin's sultry reply, words oiled and slightly slurred by his maliciousness. He took a step forwards, swaying slightly in his step, half-lidded amethyst eyes challenging the other's startled ones to make a comment.
Give me a shot to remember
And you can take all the pain away from me
A kiss and I will surrender
The sharpest lives are the deadliest to lead
Sloth swallowed, every nerve screaming to turn and alert Lust to her brother's presence – she knew how to handle him, she knew him better then all of them did…she would stop the ticking time bomb before it was too late to detonate the disaster in the making…
Closing her eyes, she strained her nerves to relax, and when she opened her eyes again, steeled, emotions barricaded. She coughed and strode past the other, shivering involuntarily as their bodies brushed, bad premonition and distress clinging insistently to his skin. With some effort, she pushed the heavy wooden door back in its frame, shutting the storm and its rage outside.
"You should probably go and s-" she began, turning around, words dying in her throat when Envy's face loomed before hers, mere inch away, the smell of neglect and abuse hitting her with the ferocity of a gunshot. She backed into the door, eyes widening as he grabbed her by the shoulders, his usual smirk tainted with maddened fever.
"E-envy-san!" she choked out, hand shooting out to push at his chest. "W-"
"What's wrong, Sloth?" he purred, nails digging into her skin before he pulled her forwards forcefully, crashing their lips together.
There was no motive behind his action, as well as no feelings.
He had no control over them anymore, ensnared in the crimson lady's vines of intoxication.
The green-haired male released her a second later, pushing at her thin frame violently, sending her sprawling across the hallway carpet, eyes wide, hand over her mouth. She immediately rolled on her knees, coughing violently, lungs burning for oxygen, the vile taste making her cringe and gag.
Envy made a disgruntled noise, strolling past her with a soft snort of contempt.
"Snobby, vain bitch." He snarled quietly, chin raised high. "Snobby, vain, worthless sluts, the lot of you."
The thick carpet muffling his unmasked footsteps, he soon disappeared out of view.
His blank eyes were now masked over by a fine web of red capillaries, void pupils attempting to swallow the darkness and all its shadowed corners one could hide in.
He didn't need to sight to get to where he was going.
If he was going to be torn from the sweet embrace of the crimson lady, there was only one place he wished to be where hell crashed into his dimension and incinerated the immortal's being.
A light to burn all the empires
So bright the sun is ashamed to rise and be
In love with all of these vampires
So you can leave like the sane abandoned me
Trembling, one hand still clamped over her mouth, Sloth slowly sat up, eyes staring on the spot where her brother had been standing just a few seconds ago, her mind whirling in a vast vortex of utter confusion.
What the bloody hell just happened?
Why was he acting so…so…alarmingly? Was it to do with his mission? Or had they did something to him?
For the sake of the Gate, what was going on?!
One thing was sure though. There was only one thing playing through the female's head as she shakily pushed her lithe body to her feet, gripping the nearby doorframe for support, eyes still fixed on that one spot.
Envy had gotten himself into something dangerous. And not just dangerous…something that shook even the ever-composed and stoic…unshakable Homunculus to his core. And as a result, he was attempting to block the events out with actions that threaten to destroy himself and everyone around him – and was very nearly succeeding.
Sloth swallowed again, mouth dry. She hesitated a second more before whirling around and making her way to her elder sister's room as fast as she could in her high heels.
Lust needs to know about this. And Darkness grant she can help him before it's too late.
TBC…
Reviews and feedback are much, much appreciated. C: