#libidox

The homunculus stormed off, ignoring the stinging words trailing behind him, though the sharpest of them had already implanted themselves into his mind, latching onto the darkest spot, where they would comfortably, securely remain. His heavy footsteps lead him to Lust's room. He slammed the door behind him, cracking the frame in the process as his vision blurred and his body trembled. He ached for solitude, and for illusion, something to fill the agonizing emptiness around him. Her scent permeated the room, toying with him. With heavy breaths, he carried himself to the long mirror he had caught Lust admiring herself in so many times. She had been truly worth admiring, not only for her physical beauty, but the air with which she carried herself. Lust had practically radiated confidence and grace, to a point that one would be fearful in her presence, and they had good reason to be. Her beauty far surpassed any other he had witnessed, and even through as much time as they had spent together, he did not tire of it. Each time he looked to her, the cruel woman took his artificial breath away. It was a sensation and a sight he desperately wished to keep for as many more years as he would remain. And so he decided that he would wear the vision he so desired. He recalled every detail he could manage of the sight, the body he now felt had been taken for granted, for as long as she had been by his side, Envy never considered that she may leave him. A future without Lust had never crossed his mind. He had nearly fooled himself. There was something wrong. A minor flaw, a slight miscalculation. Yet the closer he looked, the more obscure it seemed. And then with horror he became aware. He had forgotten. His dearest Lust had slipped from his memory so soon. Or perhaps she had never been there. Regardless, he made another attempt. And another. He shaped every detail, as many times as he could manage, though none of them seemed to be quite right. With this failure, Envy returned to his own form. And as Lust's image faded, the image that took its place blurred. Staring into the mirror, Envy cursed the humiliating streams flowing down his cheeks. In the following seconds, Envy's grief turned to wrath. His senses burned with hatred, contempt for the lowly human who had stolen away his beloved Lust. He became unaware of his actions, and only vaguely registered a sting in his right hand and the sight of blood on the broken glass. He had decided by now. He would see Lust again, no matter what it required. And in the process, he would make the poor bastard who had hurt her suffer. For now, though, he would mourn alone.