Capital Vices | JTK

VIRTUES

The seven capital virtues, also known as contrary or remedial virtues, are those opposite the seven deadly sins. They are often enumerated as chastity, temperance, charity, diligence, patience, kindness, and humility.

Warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of drinking, grief/loss of a parent, mentions of bad past relationships, fear/anxiety, mentions of sickness/illness, swearing, but mostly just fluff! sorry if i miss any!!

The morning came as it always does, bright and unsuspecting, sneaky and sometimes even hostile. When you opened your eyes for the first time on that sunny Sunday morning, dangerously bordering the afternoon hours, you were in a better mood than you had ever been. Not even the disruptive rays of light washing over your face could irritate you, nor the cluster of birds chirping in your backyard. Your chest was light, free from the weight of sadness and finally relaxing after relentless tension. You could inhale and fill your lungs without a stabbing reminder of what you missed so dearly, and the scent of Jake lingered in your pillows and sheets, even clinging on to the fibers of the shirt you were wearing.

The morning can not be bad when you wake up to such an abundance of love and all things that come along with it.

You turned, half expecting to see Jake sleeping soundly next to you, hoping to catch sight of his peaceful expression as the sun illuminated his beautiful features. When you looked next to you, you were not met by soft snores and a mess of long, brown hair. The bed was empty, only a divot in the mattress to remind you of him and his company. Your stomach sank, wondering if he'd gone back home already. You tried to ignore the nagging disappointment that came along with the thought of him leaving without a goodbye. You rubbed sleep from your eyes, begging your body to wake up the same as your mind had. With an outstretch of your limbs and a long, exaggerated yawn, you managed to throw the blankets from your legs and face the cold air.

As you stepped out of bed, you noticed more signs of another human life housed inside your home. The disappointment fled your body, replaced with an urgent sense of excitement. Quiet clanging of pots and pans could be heard from the kitchen, as well as light footsteps and the soft sound of music. The closer you got to your bedroom door, the more you could hear it. You grabbed a pair of shorts to slip on as you walked towards the exit from your room, advancing slowly so you could soak up the sight and sear it into your memory. A smile blossomed on your cheeks as you slowed to a stop. Leaning against the doorframe, you gazed out into the kitchen, watching Jake, shirtless and unsuspecting, tend to a pan on the stove. The coffee maker was lit up with blue lights, signaling its own anticipation to be used. From his phone played a slow melody, and his movements were so gentle and calculated, almost as if he was trying his best to remain undetected.

You wanted to run to him, wrap your arms around him and kiss your way through the morning. You craved his hand on your hip and your arms slung around his neck, clumsily dancing to the soft music. You wanted to hear him speak your name, to let the low tone settle deep in your bones and make home there, just so the memory could remain indefinitely. Instead, you stood and stared. You wanted it so badly, but your body would not allow it. He was a person meant to be admired, and that's exactly what you intended to do.

He did not notice you, nor did he even think to look over his shoulder and check. You had no idea how he was so oblivious to your eyes burning holes into him, but you were grateful for his ignorance. It allowed you to watch him, unashamed and uninterrupted as you familiarized yourself with all of the small details. The way his hair swooped down and settled on the bare, tanned skin of his back. The way the defined outline of his muscles showcased every flex and tense that happened with every small movement and sudden motion. The pair of sweatpants, settled low on his hips and leaving little to the imagination. You listened as he hummed the lyrics to himself, every so often growing increasingly more passionate about the song. His inability to multitask allowed for the toast to pop from the toaster and make him jump in surprise, then drew his attention so much that the pan became long forgotten.