Envy/Lust. PG-13. ~300 words.
She remembers being loved.

She can’t forget. The brief flashes of memories that she wishes weren’t hers play in her mind, bringing the cold heat of fever and the sudden pain of death over and over again. She remembers being loved.

“Here again?” Envy snickers. He stalks easily across the tops of the wooden pews, long hair swaying with each deliberately lazy step.

Lust remains in the shadowy alcove, tucked between stone pillars where the rip of gunfire and screams of the dying can’t reach her. She folds her arms under her breasts and doesn’t bother to answer. She knows the feeling of safety she has is false, but it doesn’t seem to matter.

Envy grins, and leaps from the final pew to the altar. The candles flicker as he scampers up the side of the giant statue, and he perches like a demon in Leto’s right hand.

“Greed brooded just like that before he took off,” he says, crossing his legs. “You’ve been at it for weeks.” He leans forward, eyes glinting, and drapes an arm over his knee. “Not going to turn out like him, are you?”

“Will she use it to make me human?” Lust asks. It’s useless to ask Envy anything and get a straight answer, but the rest of the Sins are all too new, too loyal, or too stupid.

Envy hums to himself, tilts his head to the side as if he’s actually considering it. “Maybe, maybe not. She hasn’t made me human yet, but I don’t want to be.”

She shakes her head at him. Having gotten exactly what she expected, she turns and walks away.

“What you should have asked,” he calls, voice echoing in the hollow nave, “is what choice do you have.”

Hand on the heavy wooden door, she hesitates for less than a heartbeat before pushing it open and stepping into the harsh desert sun.


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