It's cold out here in the hallway, but at least it's warmer than home is.
The hallway is drafty. Envy hears the wind whistle somewhere above them, and fails to stop a shiver. They should have picked a better place for Kimblee to stay; somewhere warmer, somewhere more secure-although anywhere is probably better than Wrath's prison.
It's not like he'll be staying here often, anyway. He has work to do, and he'll be out of Central as often as he's in it. But Envy'd still like him to be somewhat comfortable.
Piano music sounds from through the wall, echoing through the hall. It's Drachman; forte and bombastic, with huge chords that Envy's fingers wouldn't be able to reach. He's probably keeping everyone else in the building awake. But he can do what he likes as far as Envy's concerned.
Kimblee hits a bad chord, and Envy shivers again.
He's out of practice. His years in prison have made him rusty.
Lust knew about the piano. She and Envy'd been to a hundred concerts over their lives; they knew what a true virtuoso sounded like. Kimblee isn't one.
But he's good, all the same.
Envy leans against the wall, folds their arms against their chest, and just listens. His music is good, mistakes and all. It runs on and on; it doesn't stop. It distracts them beautifully.
It's so lonely at home. It's empty, and it's cold. Lust is gone, and Gluttony can't leave Father's side; not until he's better. Greed is never there, and it's better when Pride isn't there.
Kimblee is only a man. He isn't good for anything but completing jobs, and for alleviating boredom. But at least he's good at that. At least he's interesting. At least he likes Envy.
Envy could go in there right now. It doesn't matter if the door is locked; Envy could get in anyway. Kimblee would be happy to see them. And Envy… would be easily distracted by him. He always says the nicest things about them. And even when he doesn't, when he's distracted or deep in thought, it's such a fun game to try to coax a smile onto his blank slate of a face. They could talk about old times. They could joke and laugh together.
But Envy doesn't want to interrupt his playing.
Envy remembers his face, earlier today in the car, the way that it twisted in a wicked grin. He was happy, wasn't he? Happy, and grateful. Envy knew he'd be good at the job, at capturing Marcoh and killing Scar, and that he'd like it. It's mutually beneficial. Envy has no time to do that work, and Kimblee has nothing but time. They're both happy with this arrangement.
But there'd been something else in his eyes too, when Envy had mentioned his failures (and there were many of them; he was only human). He'd looked almost wounded, although he'd tried to hide it. Maybe Envy had gone too far. Humans are such sensitive creatures, after all.
(Not that Kimblee's happiness was any concern of Envy's.)
Envy was merciful to him; they'd done him a wonderful favour. He didn't deserve to be let out; not after taking the Stone for himself. But Envy had let him out, giving him freedom and privilege, and another Stone on top of all that. And Envy had gotten him involved in the plan for the Promised Day in the first place. He's a part of a scheme bigger than his human mind could ever dream of. He should be honoured.
If Envy went in there right now, Kimblee would be thrilled, and privileged, and, really, he'd be lucky to be allowed to spend time with them. No other human would be allowed to be so close to them. That's what makes him special; that's what makes him unique.
It would be warmer in his apartment than it is out here.
It's cold at home, damp and dark; too cold to spend more time than necessary there. It's always that way, but it seems colder now that Lust is… gone. There's no one to sit next to, to yell at or to cry against. Even Gluttony, who's hardly good for conversation, but is at least warm and soft, like Lust was, is gone now. He was hurt so badly that he can't leave Father; not until his souls are regenerated.
(If Envy really was small and beautiful, not huge and deformed, Gluttony would be alright.)
Greed doesn't like Envy. His words are only cruel. He won't smile at them the way that Kimblee does, no matter how Envy tries. Pride… he and Envy don't get along; they never have. Envy can't impress him; to Pride, they only have the potential for disappointment.
Kimblee is different.
Envy has his loyalty, and his admiration, and… Kimblee likes them.
Doesn't he?
What would he do if Envy walked in right now?
Would he look up in surprise? Would he stop playing the piano? Would he smile?
Envy leans against the wall a little harder, and imagines his expression: a hint of a smile cracking his stoic mask, some unnameable emotion in his pale blue eyes, a soft, thoughtful expression, devoid of cruelty, with only fondness within. They'd seen him look that way before, hadn't they? In Ishval, maybe, or even earlier, when they'd first met. It had been a flurry of compliments back then—Envy praising Kimblee's abilities, and Kimblee in turn admiring theirs. But Envy's reminisced about the glory of Ishval countless times, and it's hard to discern memory from fantasy. Maybe that never happened. Maybe it never will.
He does admire them. Doesn't he?
Their hand is on the door handle. Just a minute of talking with him wouldn't hurt anything.
The piano stops. Envy's hand falls back to their side.
Kimblee does admire Envy—undoubtedly—and he'd be glad to see them, certainly. But… it's easier to just take his adoration for granted, rather than risk the chance that it isn't adoration at all.
Kimblee's playing again. It's an Aerugonian piece now; atmospheric and listless.
Envy exhales slowly, sinking back onto the floor beside the door, and listens to Kimblee play. He'll be gone in the morning, and so will their melancholy. They both have too much work to do; there's no time for nostalgia, anyway, not anymore. For now, it's enough just to listen, and to imagine.
A/N: Hi, thanks for reading! Sorry for interrupting the drabbles; I just wanted to post this here.
I posted this as a standalone story a couple days ago as a prequel to TOJ, but the more I thought about it, the more I didn't really like it as a prequel; it doesn't really fit so nicely with the tone of the story, to me, anyway. I still do like it, but more as an AU piece, I guess, so I decided to delete the story and post it here instead. So sorry if you read the standalone story and were confused by me deleting it; I just tend to overthink things and wanted to put it here instead.
Thanks for reading!