Oh wow, it's been what SEVEN MONTHS!?!?!? Agh. School sucks. Senior year sucks. Then my computer got moved down stairs sans internet and I discovered I can't write in a place where people might walk through or something. It just doesn't work. Then I spent a week backpacking in the Three Sisters. I spent the next week irritating indigo's ocean before she told me to go work on other stories. However, it was really only the "update!review" from the Faerie of Darkness (on Stupid Cupid) and my promise to spend three hours on this. Irritatingly enough, the first 2.5 hours were best describes as A Complete And Total Waste Of 2.5 Perfectly Good Hours. Then, much to indigo's ocean's relief (I was going to start bugging her about her chapter 11 for Stupid Cupid as soon as the three hours were up), I got on a roll. I spent FIVE HOURS on this chapter (and this is not counting the parts that I'd already written). I literally sat at my desk from 10 AM until 3 PM.
I don't want to see any update reviews. Please? I'm pretty psyched about writing this again. I'm at college next year and have worked it so that I have Fridays completely free. To "study" (or work on fanfiction…) So, I don't think there will be a repeat of this last year. And I think we all know by now that I can ignore update!reviews.
Oh and speaking of things that haven't updated in FOREVER, I'm working on Playing with Fire AGAIN. This time, kittyebony13 (she writes IF, go read it, review it [no update!reviews as she updates at the rate of 3 chapters per week]) has agreed to write it with me. Here's to hoping some of her mad updating skillz will rub off on me… And judging from the ideas we keep brainstorming, PWF is going to be sooooo awesome. Like beyond awesome. So epic, that it gets an Envy-centric prequel. So know that, even if you can't see it, Playing With Fire lives.
Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the Divine Comedy. That belongs to Dante. I don't own FMA, Ashton Martin, or Flyleaf.
Begin Chapter Eleven of Stuttering Toward Ecstasy:
I stare at the various pairs of pants strew across my bed. I glance out the window. It looks cold and gray. I turn my eyes back to the pants. I throw the ripped and torn jeans back into the drawer. Nothing is more irritating than drafty jeans on a cold day.
I glance down at my shirt. It's red and rather bright with a crazy image of a BMX biker on it. I'm not a BMX biker or anything; I just thought it looked kind of cool. The only thing is, it doesn't have any blue in it whatsoever. That means that if I try to wear it with a random pair of jeans Mom or Winry will accuse me of clashing.
Suddenly an idea strikes me.
I smirk and lunge across the room to dig around in the closet. I know I didn't get rid of those pants. They were too expensive, for one, and I didn't want to have to explain their existence to Mom.
I have the leather pants halfway on before I realize that boxers are not the best option here. Grumbling, I shimmy out of the pants and quickly change my underwear. Sure, briefs, even boxer-briefs, are embarrassing, but it's not like I'm going to undress in front of Envy. Besides, boxers and tight leather pants don't work well together. Trust me.
After I get the leather pants on, I slip on the Vans that my aunt bought me for Christmas. I like them. Not only are they a bit more waterproof than the average Converse shoe, but they have a thicker sole, as opposed to Converse which must've been designed with the intention of the wearer feeling everything larger than the average rock.
"DAD!" Al shouts, as I grab my backpack from the floor. I sigh and carefully place my binder into my pack. I'd hoped for a nice mellow morning. Like that'd ever happen around here.
I walk down the stairs, mentally bracing myself for the chaos. I expect that Dad's teasing Al about something that Al doesn't find all that funny. Wrath's probably just sitting there, slightly scared. I sigh. Why can't my family just be normal?
I enter the kitchen to find Dad, Al, and Wrath all staring at the ceiling. There's a box of Bisquick on the counter, a plastic bowl with a spoon it, and Dad's holding a spatula. I sigh, roll my eyes, and get out two eggs. I don't even want to know what's on the ceiling.
"Ed," Al says, "what are you doing?"
"Making my breakfast," I answer, holding a skillet up. I place a small slice of butter on the skillet and turn on the burner. Dad glares at me. I scowl. I can manage scrambled eggs.
"But Ed," Dad says, helplessly, "we're making breakfast."
"No," I correct him, cracking the eggs and tossing the eggshells into the sink. "You're making your breakfast. I, however, want t-to eat before going t-to s-ss-school and am therefore making my own breakfast."
"You can't cook," Al says, fixing me with the evil eye. "Mom says you're banned from the kitchen."
"I can manage s-scrambled eggs!" I retort. "You're the one who's got s-something st-st-stuck to the ss-sis-ceiling."
"That was his fault," Dad and Al both say, pointing at each other. I sigh.
"Wrath, you want anything?" I ask, fighting not to blush. He just saw me naked, that's all. Not like it's Envy or anything, though maybe… No. I refuse to think thoughts like that at breakfast.
Or any time. I, Edward Elric, do not do urges.
Especially not at breakfast.
Or in leather pants.
Tight leather pants that would show if I had an urge, but won't be a problem because I don't have urges.
"I think I'll just have cereal," Wrath says. I can't say I blame him. He obviously does not trust any of the Elrics with cooking. Wise.
"Me too," Al suddenly chimes in. "What type do you want?"
I try not to laugh at the expression of mingled shock and horror on Wrath's face. Al seems to have suddenly remembered his goal to impress Wrath and is now eager to play hostess.
"I'm going t-to call Llllling," I say. I don't know how Wrath and Al are getting to school or how Wrath's stuff is getting home, but I don't want to take the risk of riding to school in Dad's Corvette with Al and Wrath again. Once was more than enough.
"I was going to give you guys a ride," Dad says, disappointed. Al and I exchange looks. The only reason that Dad likes to drive us to school is because it's across town from his work. Which means he gets to terrify twice as many pedestrians and fellow motorists than usual.
"That won't be necessary," Al says. "Wrath is going to call and remind his mom to drive us. Right, Wrath?"
I dial Ling's number and poke my eggs with the spatula. They sizzle and someone in the Ling household picks up. I swallow the lump in my throat and try to speak.
"Hi." Even though I don't have problems with h's my voice is weak and wavery. "Is llll-llllll-Liing there?
"Oh sure, Edward," Ling's mom says sweetly. "Let me put him on." In the background I hear a shout of 'Ling! It's for you! Edward!'
"Hey, need a ride?" Ling says answering the phone.
"Yeah," I say, moving the eggs around on the skillet.
"Can do, oh!" he says suddenly. "Can you do me a huge favor?"
"Uh-huh," I say, fighting against the lump in my throat. I'm not supposed to avoid anything; I'm not supposed to avoid anything, I repeat to myself. Izumi says it causes more stress. But I hate talking on the phone.
"Pick up Winry before you come," Ling says and I just know he's smiling his all too wide smile. "Don't try to ditch her either. She's nicer when she's not mad. Though, she's definite hotter madder."
An undignified squawk is my only response to the last sentence.
"But yeah," Ling says and I can still feel his smile. "I should let you go."
"Okay," I say. "Bye!"
"Bye!"
"Ed, I think your eggs are burning!"
I'm halfway to Winry's house before I remember that she's mad at me. I glance back towards home and keep walking. After the flaming eggs I don't think I'd be very welcome there. And Ling's my only ride, unless I want to ride with Al and Wrath and Envy.
I blush.
After last night I don't think that I could ride with Envy in a car, even if he wasn't driving, and not be in a permanent blushing state. I sigh and bite my lip. At this point, apologizing to Winry is almost safer.
I walk up her driveway, hoping that she'll let me beg forgiveness before she hits me with her wrench. Not likely, but there's always hope.
I ring the doorbell and seconds later Winry appears. She's wearing a vibrant blue long-sleeved shirt, with a tight bright yellow spaghetti strap shirt over it. Instead of the sensible shoes she normally wears, Winry has a pair of dark blue high-heeled boot on that clash terrible with the metallic gold spandex she's wearing under her blue and yellow plaid mini-skirt. She also has blue and gold ribbons in her ponytail.
"Okay! I got it! BYE MOM!" she shouts back before slamming the door. "Honestly, you'd think that she'd understand. The entire field hockey team is dressing up, but no, 'You look like a whore!'" Winry says in imitation of her mom's voice. "Honestly, do I look like a whore to you?"
I shake my head. There is one right answer here. I don't say anything though. It's safer not to state an opinion when Winry starts fighting with her parents. Switzerland is ideal at this point.
"But yeah," she says, turning to me. "So why are you here?"
"I came t-tt-t-to apologize about in the car and all," I say. She keeps walking with me, instead of stomping off. She can't be that mad.
"Anything else?" she asks, suspiciously. I sigh. I don't normally make the first step in apologies. I think it started because I couldn't say sorry, literally. Then it just sort of became habit.
"Nope," I say. There is no way I'm telling her about Ling.
"You sure?" Winry says, narrowing her eyes.
"Well," I say, drawing out the word. "Lllllling might've ss-sss-ss-said ss-ss-sss-something about giving you a ride, maybe."
"Hmm," Winry says looking thoughtful. I look for escape routes. It's never a good thing when Winry starts plotting; Russell can attest to that. "Did he say anything else?"
I shake my head.
"Any thing at all?" Winry asks, again. "He didn't say anything, just 'tell Winry we're giving her a ride'?"
"Yeah," I say. "That's pretty much it."
"You sure?"
There is no way in Hell that I am going to tell her that Ling wanted me to apologize. It's suicidal.
"He didn't say anything else about me?"
I look away. It was enough that I had to hear the phrase 'she's hotter when she's mad.' I don't want to repeat it aloud.
"No, Winry. He didn't say anything else about you."
Winry gives me a quizzical look.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing," she says simply. "It's nothing."
"No, Winry," I say. I don't trust her look. It's too smug and superior and dangerous. "What is it?"
"Tell me what Ling said," Winry says suddenly, "and I'll tell you what."
"You really want t-to know?" I ask. I have no idea how Winry will react to Ling's comment. Or how Ling will react if he finds out I told her. Actually, he'd probably take it well. Since he's said stuff like that before. He's the only person I know who can call Winry cute and not be maimed.
"YES!" Winry says, glaring at me. "Why wouldn't I want to know?"
I don't want to answer that question.
"Uh, well, he t-t-t-told me not t—t-to make you mad this morning, but that you llll-lllluh-llluh-llook hotter when you're mad. His words, not mine," I stammer out and wait for the explosions.
Nothing.
Instead Winry's just blushing slightly and looks rather flattered.
"Really?" She asks again, dreamily. "He said that?"
"Yes," I say. I want to forget I ever heard his comment not have a discussion about it. "What were you going t-to t-t-tell me?"
"Oh, just that you said 'say' without stuttering," Winry says, smiling. "Though you might like to know."
I stop.
I can't believe this.
This can't be true.
I can't say 's' words without stuttering.
It's impossible. It just doesn't happen. There's no way on earth.
I can't believe I didn't notice this.
"You ss-sss-ssis-ssis-ssserious?" I ask Winry, incredulous.
"Yep," she says brightly. "Though I suppose you're never going to do it again, since you'll be thinking about. Hmm, maybe I shouldn't have told you."
"Heh," I say. She's probably right too. The more I think about words the more I stutter. But if I don't think about what I'm going to say, I'll accidentally stutter or worse, block.
Either way I'm screwed.
"So, yeah," Winry says. "How was speech yesterday?"
"Good," I say. "It was good."
"Oh, well that's nice," Winry says. I can feel the conversation start to die.
"Sss-s-sis-sss-sllloth was there," I say suddenly. Winry stares at me, shocked.
"No way!" she says. "Sloth, Sloth Peccato, Sloth drama-geek I-Heart-Public-Speaking Peccato stutters?"
"Yeah," I say.
"How is that even possible?" Winry asks as we near Ling's house. "I mean, you'd think you would've heard he stutter over something before this."
"I don't know. She sis-sis-said ss-ss-s-s—something about ss-s-singing voices and voice llllllessons," I say. Winry raises an eyebrow at me. She has, apparently, noticed that I'm stuttering more. Great. "It made ss-ss-sense to Izumi, ss-so." I shrug.
"Interesting," is all Winry has to say.
"Ed, Winry!" Ling says when he sees us. He's standing outside next to his mom's Landcruiser. I raise an eyebrow. Ling is dressed bizarrely. He's wearing his normal collared shirt, with the cuffs unbuttoned, but instead of the normal array of conservative colors, it's bright blue. Sure, it's actually a nice civilized blue, but it's striped and from a distance it looks brighter. And he's wearing yellow and blue plaid shorts (mostly yellow, but still!). I stare at his feet. Gold flip-flops? And the Landcruiser? Why? Ling's ancient Aston Martin is sitting right there in the garage. He's modified it (causing my dad great pain) so that it seats three instead of just two. There's enough room for me, him, and Mei—oh, right. There's Winry, who Ling thinks is hot when she's mad. That would be why we're taking the Landcruiser.
"Hey, Ling," Winry says, smiling. "What's with the color?"
"Gotta support the team, home game right?" He says smiling at Winry. "So, yeah, we're taking the Landcruiser again because I haven't had a chance to look over the Aston yet. Who knows what those amateurs at the shop did to it," Ling says, sighing dramatically.
"Why did you even t-take it in?" I ask. Ling always does this, despite my dad's numerous 'hints' that truly dedicated car classic car owners look after their own cars. Hint isn't the right word for it. It's more like Dad has mocked Ling, his car, and his masculinity and then offered to give Ling some car care lessons. Which is bizarre considering that Ling's car is in better condition than Dad's.
"The rear bumper fell off and Mom doesn't want me to weld anything until I've taken a few classes," Ling says. "And so either I drive around without a bumper or I go to the shop or your dad and someone else does it. And no offense, but after last time I am not hanging out in your garage as your dad mutilates my baby."
"And the guys at the shop are better?"
"I don't have to watch or worry that they'll remove the seats," Ling says. I sigh. I wish his reasons weren't valid, but sadly, my dad would probably remove Ling's bench seat if Ling didn't watch him. Of course, Ling takes watching to a whole new level. He very quietly peers over my dad's shoulder and will make odd comments that cause my dad to jump and scratch stuff. It's a very bad arrangement.
"Point," I say.
"Why don't you wait in the car," Ling says. "I'm going to go figure out what's taking Mei so long." He walks into the house through the garage just as Mei skips out the front door. I sigh and Winry giggles.
"I'll go get him," she says, smiling. Great, now I'm left alone with Mei. Fortunately, it doesn't take long before we're all in the car. The ride to school is mercifully short. Mei and Winry chatter on about really girly stuff (like lip gloss and boys) while Ling just smiles his smug smile.
Math goes by quickly. Maybe it's because I'm familiar with the subject matter now and logs are just easy. Or it could be because next period I have Physics, with Envy and after that dream and—he likes me. I can't help myself I grin and Ketu gives me a strange look. I just shake my head and pretend to pay attention to the problem that Grumman is working on the board.
I enter Physics warily. Envy is already in there, sitting at one of the lab tables. My heart leaps to my throat. He looks up, excited, but he doesn't wave wildly like yesterday. I sigh. I would've liked to get to know Noah better, but there's no way I can't not sit with Envy, if that makes any sense.
I walk over to his group. Roy's also decked out in the school colors. Though he's just wearing a yellow shirt with a blue tie. His girlfriend smiles at me. I wave a little. She's dress a lot like Winry with the same mini-skirt (only hers is actually longer), blue spandex, and bright gold boots.
"Hey Ed," she says, before turning back to Roy. Winry probably covets her shirt, I think. It's this bright yellow Underarmor that fits like a second skin. However, Riza's a bit more modest than Winry and has worn a light blue top over it. "Field hockey game today, you coming?"
"Ah, maybe," I say and turn to Envy. His entire face just lights up. He's grinning manically, like Christmas came early or something. I smile in return.
"There enough st-st-stt-stools t-t-today?" I ask, smiling. Envy looks confused, then his eyes go wide and he blushes.
"Uh, ah, yeah, plenty of stools," he says, trying not to look at me.
"That's good," I say, sitting down next to him, on his left. He's wearing a white shirt with dandelions on it. It doesn't seem to go with the rest of his outfit (black jeans that that are too loose to be skinny—or Envy's too skinny for them to be ski-tight—lime green Converse, and black, fingerless, fishnet gloves that stop at his elbows).
"Yeah, uh, I guess," he says and looks away. I frown. Oh, right he probably thinks that I mean that I didn't like sitting his lap yesterday. Great. I sigh. Wrath didn't mention just how paranoid Envy is.
I have to say something, otherwise he's going to worry and think and be completely wrong, and I have no idea what to say.
"What's f-ff-fff-Flyleaf?" I ask, lightly tracing the cursive name on Envy's shirt. The writing is right across Envy's chest and he stares at my finger as I try not to worry about how stupid my stutter sounds. I don't carry if Envy doesn't seem to mind, just once I'd like to speak normally.
"I-I-it's it's a—they're they're a band," Envy stammers. His eyes are wide and he's looking at me, almost panicked but definitely confused. I removed my finger.
"I've never heard of them," I say. Dr. Knox has entered the room and from the looks of things, today's just going to be a lecture.
"You should, I mean, they're a really great band," Envy says as he reaches down to pull out his notebook. "I think you'd like some of their songs."
"Really?" I say, looking at Envy's hands, they're so beautiful and in the dream when—Oh fuck! I immediately blush and look away. I can't think about stuff like that, not in these pants, they're too tight and then Envy would see and he'd know and he might—no! "I'll have t-t-to check them out sometime."
"Yeah," Envy says as he takes out a mechanical pencil. "Maybe later at my house we can listen to them or something."
"That'd be nice," I say. Dr. Knox is saying something about 'the center fleeing force' and how it doesn't exist, but I'm not listening. Centrifugal forces and their possible existence don't interest me at the moment. Impulsively, I reach for Envy's hand and place it, palm up, in my hand. He clenches it nervously and I run my thumb over his bright pink nails.
"How much llllonger do you have t-to keep the nail polish on f-f-ff-for?" I ask. Envy doesn't answer; instead he makes a questioning whimper. I turn my hand over so our palms are touching. I slide my fingers out across his larger, yet more delicate hand.
"Oh, ah, right, bet, um I don't really know," Envy says after awhile. "Wrath didn't say."
I turn his hand back and run my fingers over the tops of it before setting my hand back in my lap.
"You have pretty hands," I say after awhile.
"I'm not a girl," Envy says. He doesn't meet my eyes. I don't know why.
"I didn't s-say you were," I tell him and reach for his hand again. He pulls away.
"Don't touch me," he snaps. He glares at me before looking away. He starts taking notes. I shift in my seat and place my hand on the desk.
"I mean, chibi," he says angrily. "Don't touch me."
"Okay," I say, shifting away from him. "I'm s-s-sorry."
Envy doesn't say anything. He just stares at the whiteboard and copies down the equations and formulas. I sigh, and when he still doesn't look at me, turn back to my binder and start taking notes.
"So, English," Envy says he catches up to and we leave S2. I look over at him. He's not really smiling, but he doesn't look mad.
"Yeah," I say and look up at him again. He's wearing a bunch of silver and black necklaces today and a sweatband that has some team name or logo on it pushes his hair back.
"I wonder what Kärki is going to do today," Envy says conversationally. It's like the thing in Physics never even happened. I want to ask him about it but don't. He may just like his personal space. Though he didn't seem to have a problem with it yesterday or when he rubbed my back.
"I wouldn't know," I say truthfully.
"Oh," Envy says and he looks down. "Well, we'll just have to find out."
"Yeah."
"Look, Edward," Envy says, suddenly turning to face me. I stop dead. "If you don't want to be around me, don't hang out with me, you don't have to. If you don't want to talk to me, then don't. Don't feel obligated to do this because of some misguided principle of yours and you thinking you can make me happy." He spat out the word. His voice is rising and he takes a step closer. Suddenly I can't breathe or move. If take a step back, I'm just proving his point but if I don't move, if I don't move I'll kiss him. "You're not responsible for me, regardless of what Wrath said."
"Envy," I say placing a hand on his wrist. "Wrath didn't say anything."
"Oh," he says in a quiet voice before jerking away from me. "Still, if you don't like me, don't—"
"Envy," I say, recapturing his hand. "It's not that I don't lllllike you, but—"
"But?" he interrupts. I weave my fingers into his.
"Don't interrupt. It's just that," I start to say. There's no good way to say this. "If you knew me, you'd know that I am really, just incredibly bad at conversation. Nothing against you personally, I just have a really hard t-t-t-tt-time tt-t-t-talking t-t-ttt—to people I don't know well." Envy looks as if he's about to protest something, I continue anyways. "And I want t-to get t-tt-to know you. Really, I do."
"Oh, oh," Envy says. He disentangles him hand from mine. "Okay, I can live with that, but really, what's with the touching?"
I flush bright red.
"I—nothing, just nothing," I say hurried walking towards English, Envy catches up easily.
"Really," he says running his long pink nails up my bare arm. I shiver and blush more. "Oh, are you cold, Edo? Want me to warm you up?"
"No, no, no, no," I say quickly. "I'm not cold, it's warm today." Which is a lie, I'm actually freezing, but it was sunny when I looked out my window and I'd just kind of assumed that it would be warm. Wrong.
"You sure?" Envy asks. He leans closer to me and practically purrs, "Edward, you were just shivering…" He's almost touching my ear, he could lick my ear, lick my ear, just lick my ear. My thought process is definitely not coherent.
"Yeah, definitely sure that I'm not cold or anything," I say.
"Yo," a low voice calls. We both look. A guy in baggy corduroy pants and a dark blue Berkeley shirt is approaching us. "Envy, Ed," he says nodding at us. I don't remember his name. He's in our English group and apparently is with Serendity-whatever, but that's it.
"Yeah," Envy says, turning to face him.
"I'm going to ditch, take notes for me, okay?" he says with a lopsided grin. "I'm gone." Envy makes a tsk-ing noise with his tongue.
"My, my, my, Landon, what on earth are you going to tell Seren," Envy says looking up at the overcast sky. "Ditching her favorite class like that."
"I'm going to her cross-country meet," Landon says smugly. "She's always going on about how nobody comes and how other sports get all the recognition. I'm going to surprise her."
"What am I supposed to tell Kärki? That you've decided to follow Seren around? He's not going to believe or like that," Envy says.
"Just tell him that I can't find my woman, but I need to obey, so I'm going to go find her. Tell Kärki I send my love, but that, aging sex god that he is, Seren is a young and sexy goddess, a young, sexy, and soon to be sweaty—"
"Okay, ew," Envy says, scrunching up his nose. "I don't need to hear this. Fine, I'll tell Kärki, but, never mind. It's useless, there is nothing; you're just a lost cause. Go, go to Seren, maybe she'll know what to do with you."
"That's what I hope," Landon says.
"Oh God, I-I-Iya uh did not need that mental image, Landon," Sloth says suddenly. "Go, before Kärki sees y-y-y-you or something."
"Sure thing Sloth," Landon says after shooting Envy a confused look. Envy mouths something back at him and he nods and walks off.
"How on earth do y-y-y-you manage?" Sloth whispers at me. Envy glares at her.
"Ss-ss-ss-sucks, doesn't it?" I say. Envy opens the door for us and I walk towards my seat.
"ELRIC! We're in groups today!" Kärki bellows from his desk in the back. I jump and Envy grins wickedly. "TWIN-SINS, you're supposed to be looking after him, don't make me fail you."
"Yes, sir!" Envy says eagerly and salutes him. Sloth just rolls her eyes. Kärki turns back to whatever he was doing and I just stare at Envy. Oh God no. I'm going to have to sit next to him for a whole hour while he flirts, teases, and gets offended at me without any warning whatsoever.
"Let's sit here, Edo," Envy says cheerfully. He seems to have selected a seat at random. "No one else from our group is here today."
"Sure," I say, slumping down in a seat. Envy immediately scoots closer to me. I look over at Sloth, who's sitting on my other side. She just smiles.
"Ever consider wearing your hair just down?" Envy asks, looking at my strangely.
"No," I say. "It gets in my f-ff-f-face and makes me llllook lllike a girl."
"I think it's hot."
I just stare at Envy.
"You think it's hot when I wear my hair down?" I ask, just to make sure I haven't heard wrong or something. Sloth giggles, but quickly turns it into a cough. Envy's eyes widen comically and his mouth is open in the shape of an O. As in 'Oh shit.'
"I didn't mean it that way. I swear," Envy blurts out.
"How did you mean it, Envy?" Sloth asks, leaning forward. She's slipped into her other voice again. Dammit! It's not fair! "Because I thought you were perfectly clear."
"No! It didn't mean it looks hot or anything," Envy says. He's turning beet red and I can see why he doesn't wear red. He looks very Christmas-y. "I just meant that it looks hot temperature wise, you know, like it would be hot to wear your hair down, since you have so much of it. Really, I don't know how you girls do it."
Sloth makes a choked sound and quickly starts coughing, though the coughs sound suspiciously like giggles.
"Envy," she says when she's stopped coughing. "Your hair is down too."
"Shut up," Envy says turning red again. "It's cold and Edward's hair is thicker."
"You're right," I say, "It is warmer down." I pull my hair band from my hair.
"No! What are you doing?" Envy sounds panicked.
"Lllletting my hair down, why?" I ask, smiling slightly. "Don't lllike it?"
"No, no, it's just that, I, why would you do that?" Envy asks incoherently.
"I'm cold, and according t-t-to you, this is warmer," I say. "You have a problem with that?" Envy gives me a baleful look before resting his head on his desk. He brings his arms up like he's going to fall asleep or something. He tilts his head so that his hair obscures his face.
"Envy?" I pick some of his hair up. He opens a violet eye.
"Go away," he says and glares at me. I don't. Instead I finger the small section of his green hair. It slips through my fingers like silk. It's so soft.
"Do you use conditioner?" I ask suddenly. Envy looks at me with the most conflicted expression I've seen.
"What I do in the shower is none of your business," Envy snaps. He sits up suddenly and pulls his hair away from me. He twirls it around and drapes it over his other shoulder far from my hands. I turn bright red at Envy's words. Envy in the shower. Images from my shower bombard me. I cross my legs quickly and look away.
"I didn't mean it like that," Envy says suddenly. He's turning pink too. "I just meant that—"
"Regardless of what you mean or did not mean, twin-sin, class has started and Habshi isn't here, why?" Kärki asks, suddenly right behind Envy. Envy gulps and I wonder just how much did Kärki hear.
"He's not here," Envy says nervously.
"I gathered that much, Peccato," Kärki says, "by looking at his empty desk. Now, I know that Kahlo is at her little running thing, but Habshi isn't on cross-country and I have been assured that he did not manage to sneak on the bus. Now, where is he?"
"Oh, well," Envy says. "He told me that he wasn't going to be here. Something about how he can't find his woman, who you're always telling him to obey, so he's out looking for her. He sends his love, but that you just don't cut it anymore, aging sex god and all. You see Seren is a young and sexy goddess and have you seen the uniforms that those cross-country runners wear? Scandalous."
"You can't be serious," Kärki says. Envy shrugs. "Oh my God. Remind me to kill him when he gets back.
"Today, I'm going to be going over the Seven Sins, which as Justin pointed out last period, are not mentioned in the Inferno. However, he took this to mean that we wouldn't be covering them. Wrong. After Dante gets out of Hell, he still has to climb Mount Purgatory."
Kärki walks over to the white board and uncaps a green pen. He draws a ten-layer cake on the board.
"The first two levels are the excommunicate and the late repentant, but we don't care about them. The first real terrace is that of the Proud. They walk around carrying rocks on their back, bent over. This is—yes, Try-Ham?"
"So it's like a pun because the proud stand up straight and all?" Russell asks.
"I wouldn't call it something so vulgar as a pun, but yes, the rocks are to teach humility which is the opposite of pride and that pride, a sin, is a weight on one's soul that is better to throw off than lug around. Moving on, Terrace Two is that of the Envious," Kärki pauses to look directly at Envy.
"Why he feels the need to mock my name," Envy mutters glaring up at Kärki from the desk where his head is pillowed. "I do no know."
"Envy, it appears, is a forgivable sin as opposed to causing trouble for Rome, which lands you in Hell forever. The sinners on this terrace have their eyes sewn shut so they can't see anything to envy. It is here, that Jesus repeated tells the sinners to love their enemies. Yes, Gardwin?"
"What's the difference between Jealousy and Envy?" a boy in the front asks.
"We'll cover that later, when we discuss what properly defines an emotion. Moving on to the Third Terrace…"
I start to zone out. I can't help it. This is all completely unfamiliar babble to me. I haven't even started the Inferno yet, let alone Purgatory, which we don't have to read, but we're covering anyways because Kärki feels like it.
"The Fourth Terrace belongs to the Slothful. The punishment for this sin is similar to cross-country country practice—or so the team tells me—in that they are not allowed to stop running. I expect we will see a reverse of today where Habshi is off gallivanting across the state to cheer Kahlo while she runs. Instead, Habshi will run non-stop while Jesus and Kahlo cheer from Heaven. I do so hope I get to watch that spectacle, allegorically of course."
The rest of the lecture wraps up before the bell rings. There's about five minutes left in the period. And Envy and I are just sitting there. I don't want to say anything because he's acting so weird. Like he's bipolar or something.
"So, Ed," he says suddenly turning to me.
"Yeah," I say, hesitatingly. I don't want to set him off again, but I don't even know what I'm doing wrong or if it's me. Maybe Wrath just made him paranoid about something or he's miffed that I didn't want to ride with him to school (which isn't strictly true).
"So, for the sleepover, do you want go home first or—basically, how do you want to get your stuff to my house?" Envy asks. He blushes and giggles a bit. I just stare. He's acting so strange.
"Uh," I stall for time, as usual. Though this has a lot more to do with Envy than my stutter. "Well, I should probably go home and get my ss-sis-sis-st-t-stuff f-f-first."
"Okay, cool," Envy says. His face is unreadable. "Are you getting picked up or should—or what?"
"Um, I don't really know," I say. "My mom's out of t-t-t-town, but well, like I s-ss-suh-suh-said I don't really know. Could you t—take me home or s-ss-something?"
"Ah, Chibi," he says, smiling suddenly. I feel butterfly-shaped fireworks go off in my stomach. He's so beautiful when he smiles. "I'd thought you'd never ask."
"Okay, good," I say finally. "I'll meet you outside of ceramics."
The bell rings and everyone gets up.
"Hey, yeah," Envy says, his reply almost lost in the sudden noise. "Actually, I'll see if I can meet you there. I have Italian at the college, so I might be running a bit late, if that's okay."
"Sure," I say. "I can't wait."
"Brilliant," Envy says. "See you later!"
After he's left, Sloth whispers to me:
"He likes you."
"So I hear, so I hear."
Fin.