Disclaimer: . . . . You get it by now, right?
A/N: So, Envy. Five homunculi to go. :P
Craving
It's an ache in his chest, where his heart might be if he were human, a hard, sick weight that settles in his stomach with the red stone. When he closes his eyes, he can see them, a father with his children, golden-eyed, golden-haired, happy, and that ache twists into hot, invigorating hate. Better than the alternative, when he looks in the mirror, slams his fist into it until his hand's cut, bleeding and he still can't feel it. Sometimes he doesn't want to hate them, but he's never known how to love—envy is the closest he can get.