Without Virtue

Comforting

Waking up was always Wrath's worst part of the day, being reminded that a new day has begun, it always felt bittersweet. The room was way too massive for his taste, to him the bigger the room the more empty it felt. He headed toward the room where his sister was, who was more than likely still sleeping, debating whether to wake her up or not. He put a hand on the door and stared at it with a brazen look of indecisiveness. He looked to the antique clock which was shown to be 6:30 a.m. not extremely early yet not late either. They needed to get moving, but then again a few minutes wouldn't kill him. Wrath went toward the desk and noticed that there was a notepad and pin and figured since he had extra time he might as well use it. He began to think about that dream again and began to write about how it made him feel as if to tell himself that it's okay now. This was not new for Wrath, after an eventful dream he'd grab his journal and write down what he feels, so much so that he already went through two journals. Writing really helped him calm down especially when his mind goes back to that place. Wrath keeps contemplating if his utter indifference to his siblings was warranted. His younger self thought their lives were not worth remembering and the guilt has been getting worse through time. The time around Wrath continued to turn to the next hour, the words on the paper itself were more of a way for Wrath to come to a revelation. He looked toward the clock and now realized that time had eluded him, an hour had passed. He looked at the paper, really looked at it, he noticed that the majority of what he wrote revolved around his brother Pride. As he continued to read his notes of his dream the tugging in his stomach felt like a creature with sharp knife long claws was pulling his stomach toward the floor. His mind kept going into why he didn't try anything? Why didn't he feel any form of sympathy toward him, toward any of his siblings? Even though it has been centuries, Wrath didn't know whether it was a blessing or a curse that he only recently started to feel guilty for his younger selfs lack of sympathy. Maybe Wrath blocked the reality of the situation to get through his life, he threw the notes to the floor and put his hands to his face and he can feel the tears slipping through his fingers. The world could have been set on fire and he would be utterly unaware. He was so contained in his own thoughts that he didn't notice that the door to his sister's room opened. Lust looked at Wrath and felt that their positions were now in reverse. She was able to grieve because Wrath took the brunt of the horrors of...their past. She walks towards him and pats his shoulder trying to bring him back to reality. Wrath's attention was pulled back and as he looked to his sister his eyes were glazed with a crimson grief. Lust didn't speak a word to Wrath yet with her eyes she sent a clear message. The aching in his gut was still lingering there but with his sister here it was bearable. Wrath stood up and hugged her with a desperation of a frightened child. It was Interesting how even though they hadn't seen each other in years, they were still completely comfortable showing vulnerability to each other. The comforting embrace lasted only a few minutes but that's all that was needed. Lust decided to go toward the bed, sits down, and pats the spot right next to her. Wrath took a minute and looked directly at her, got up from his seat and walked toward the bed and sat next to her.

"The nightmares are back aren't they" she spoke with such certainty that him trying to lie would be futile.

"Yeah, There back" he could only confirm to her that they were back, he didn't want to elaborate further. She could see her brother tense and knew bringing it up further would just cause him to be uncomfortable. She tried to think of another subject to distract him with and then a thought came to mind.

"Hey Wrath did you know that french beer tastes like shit" She had a smile on her face hoping that would grab his attention. He looked at her with slight shock because his sister rarely cursed. She always kept such words for when she was upset. She cursed so crudely and so unexpected that he didn't know how to respond. "The taste just didn't do it for me you know, it's just not as good as german beer in my opinion, what do you think?". He knew what she was doing. She was trying to distract him from his earlier thoughts and even though he acknowledged what she was doing he appreciated it.

"To be honest I'm more into vodka" the tension that was in his body seems to have dissipated. Wrath did need to look directly at his sister to know she was smiling. He didn't know if she was happy about successfully distracting him or that she got him to respond. It didn't really matter either way cause the atmosphere was no longer thick and suffocating, it was now open and refreshing.