"Okay, okay," said Envy, giggling and blowing a strand of hair from their face. "You have to hear this."

They were lying beside him on the prison floor, the small cot in the cell declothed and spread out beneath them so they could lie like lovers did. Their face was resting next to Kimblee's shoulder, and they were so close he could pick out every detail in their features, the things that slipped past human perception at a greater distance. They had no pores in their skin, and their lashes and eyebrows were sharp and precise, the texture and colour the same as the wild green spines on their head; from here he could see how their eyes glittered subtly like a snake's, and the faint individual lines in their lips. He felt an urge to kiss them- but they were talking, and clearly wanted him to listen.

"So, you know that guy, right?" they said, blinking at him, eyes moving rapidly in their sockets. They were playing with their hair, pulling down one strand to twirl it around their fingers, a very feminine gesture that they rarely used- unless they were especially amused by something. But as for what they had said-

"You're going to have to be more specific, my dear," murmured Kimblee lazily, still marvelling at how they moved as they twisted onto their side, propping their head up with one arm to stare at him even more intently, an adorable little smile forming on their lips.

"You know him. He was in Ishval with you. Try and guess."

They had a wicked look on their face as they said that, their free hand sliding up under his prison slip to feel his stomach, the cold skin of their fingers sending a small shock through his nervous system. Kimblee made a humming noise, playing along, fixated on the shape of their mouth.

"Maybe...Armstrong? Were you messing with him?" Envy bit their lower lip with sharp teeth and shook their head, eyes shining. Something had gotten them very excited. It was sweet to see them like this, so worked up and mischievous, and he knew that if they were in this sort of mood they must have done something downright horrible. He guessed again.

"Was it Mustang?" When he said the name something in their eyes snapped, and Envy burst out laughing, all of the energy in their body spilling out like water from a flooded dam, the sound bouncing around the prison walls and becoming larger than life. The intensity of it sent little shivers of delight down his spine.

Kimblee was sure, on some nights, that the guards and other prisoners could hear them. He entertained himself sometimes by imagining what they must think.

"Noo," Envy purred when their laughter had died down, their fingers now tracing circles on his chest, his shirt hiked up practically to his neck. "But you're very close. A good friend of Mustang's. Do you remember him…?"

Kimblee thought he knew now who they were speaking of- he could vaguely recall a face often seen alongside the Flame Alchemist in Ishval, a handsome young man with dark hair and glasses…

"His name was Hughes," Envy breathed, the past tense violently apparent, and they licked their teeth, the image of a satisfied predator having sunk their fangs into a juicy piece of meat. "Do you wanna hear what I did to him?"

Their eyes were gleaming in the half-light, their tongue slipping out to touch their bottom lip, face close enough now that he was breathing in their air- and he was sure they could feel it, his heart was beating fast and his blood becoming hotter, when they got this way they were gorgeous beyond belief. And yes, he did want to hear.

"He was smart," said Envy, entwining one leg with his to bring their bodies even closer. "A little too smart. Couldn't keep him around."

They rested their chin on his shoulder, and even that single point of pressure was painful from their weight, but Kimblee didn't care. If he found a bruise there later he would treasure it.

"Soo, we had to kill him, right? And that was good. It was all good. I think he was trying to tell someone, 'cause he went out to a telephone booth, right? That actually just made it easier, though. But that's not the good part."

They had the most insane look on their face now, he could tell they were getting to the punchline, the tension and leftover bloodlust in the air building to the point where he could almost taste it.

"I was gonna do it as Maria Ross. Easy, right, and she would make a good scapegoat if we needed one. But…"

The world was frozen around them in Kimblee's eyes, crystalline, their eyes and lips and cold fingertips the only things left in the universe.

"...he had this picture...it had fallen out of his jacket, I think."

Their nose was brushing his cheek now, and they spoke very softly, and he could feel faint puffs of cold air on his skin.

"He was in it, and this beautiful woman, and a little girl. Ah, such a darling little girl, the kind a painter would cast as an angel. I bet she'll cry, now that he's gone. Can you guess what it was, the last thing he saw? Can you guess who was holding the gun for him?"

Kimblee knew, Kimblee knew exactly what they had done because he knew what they liked, and this was the kind of thing that Envy enjoyed most of all. And he remembered Hughes now- the man who spoke of nothing but his girlfriend, the woman he had said he would marry if he ever escaped Ishval. A tiresome man, with romantic ideals and a do-good attitude and too big of a heart. A good man, was what people would say- oh, but Envy was evil, and the fact of it was exciting him beyond belief, burning him from the inside out with terrible passion. Their next words came out a broken whisper, their voice soft and cracked from their own malicious glee, their palm coming to rest over his throbbing heart.

"...I was dressed as his wife when I killed him-"

Kimblee twisted and practically crushed their mouths together, unable to hold back any longer, and Envy accepted him easily, rolling over so he could pin them to the floor with his bound hands and ravish them. They were giggling as he did it, and he swallowed their laughter like it was the cure to every human ailment, locking their body to his with the embrace of a starved man.

They were so terrible, they were, and Kimblee loved it.

When the act was done and Kimblee's sweat was cooling, and they were dozing in his arms he pressed his face into their hair and he wished he could go with them, knowing they were sure to leave soon and his heart aching as though they were already gone. He only felt these things dimly behind the curtain of pleasant fluff that came to every human in times like these, but he felt it nonetheless. He wanted to be free.

"Be patient," mumbled Envy into his skin, somehow knowing exactly what he had been thinking. Their eyes were cuttingly awake as they looked back at him, and they nipped lightly at his throat, their expression mischevious. "It won't be much longer, I promise."

The next day, Kimblee's meagre prison breakfast was accompanied by the morning paper, which was a rare treat sometimes given to the prisoners in solitary, whenever the warden felt he needed to dribble a little humanity into their lives. On the front page there was a murder- and even though he already knew all the details, it was exciting nonetheless.

Kimblee felt that he was going to have a very nice day.