DEVIL

1.7 | Sloth

Sloth; noun: "facetiousness of the mind which neglects to begin good."

Alyssa always woke up before Poetry, however, that wasn't the case, this time. Poetry drew back the white and gold curtains in her room, granting an abrupt and rude awakening to Alyssa. It was cloudy, but the sky still seemed bright. "Rise and shine," Poetry taunted. Alyssa let out a grunt, rolling over and facing away from the window. "Payback," Poetry said, forcibly rolling Alyssa onto her back. "For what?"

"For all the times you've woken me up at the ass crack of dawn. Now, get up; we have places to be." Poetry walked over to her closet to begin changing her clothes. She'd occasionally pop her head back into her room, when Alyssa would say anything. Alyssa was far too tired to question why Poetry was awake before 9:00 AM, so, she remained silent.

"Why did you bring me to the beach so early, Poe? It'll still be here by noon," Alyssa complained. "Beach cleanup," was the only answer Poetry offered as she handed a pair of gloves to Alyssa. Alyssa threw a look at Poetry, but refrained from offering a snarky reply. The girls cleaned in silence, and they were heading back up to the house for breakfast by 10:30. "Poe?" Alyssa requested when they sat down at the kitchen island.

"Why'd you make me do that?" She asked with a light chuckle. "I'm trying to get the people around me to do good deeds – at least for one day."

"What are you gonna make Anthony do?"

"She can't make me do anything," Anthony interrupted their conversation as he entered the kitchen. He walked over to Alyssa, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, planting a kiss on the top of her hear. Anthony used his other hand to ruffle Poetry's already messy hair. "I can make you do a clothing drive."

"I can't get rid of my clothes, Poe."

"Yes, you can. You have more clothes than me, which should say something. Not to mention, you don't even wear most of them. Nine times out of ten, you're wearing the same, slightly stained tee-shirt and baggy sweatpants."

After a brief pause, Anthony sighed; "do you at least have a box I can put them in?" A smile graced Poetry's face. Anthony and Poetry constantly bickered, but at the end of the day, they both knew they'd do anything for one another, no matter how challenging or insignificant. "I have more than one, Ant. I figured you'd end up tossing a good bit."

Anthony dug through all of his drawers, emptied his hangers, and unpacked luggage that had been collecting dust. He'd completely filled three boxes, making a decent sized dent in his wardrobe. Anthony carried two stacked boxes, and Poetry carried one into the building. "Poe?" Anthony called as they got back into his Jeep. "Do you have anything you wanna tell me?"

"No? I don't think so, why?" Anthony shrugged. "Just wondering if you had anything new going on in your life. Alyssa said you might have a new fling," Anthony wiggled his brows suggestively, glancing back and forth between Poetry and the road as he drove. "I don't have a new fling," Poetry laughed. "For someone who's terrible at lying, you do it pretty often."

"How can everyone tell when I'm lying?"

"You pick at the skin around your fingernails, and sometimes you'll mess with your lips or ear. You've been doing it since we were kids."

"I was thinking," Anthony began again. "That never leads to anything good," Poetry interrupted, earning a side-eye from her brother. "Maybe, we should introduce Eridanus to banister racing," Anthony chuckled at the memories from his and Poetry's childhood. "Definitely not. He'll steal my champion title, and I can't admit defeat."