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Story: Till Death and Daisies Bloom
The morning sun had burned away the last of the dew as I followed a winding stone path deeper away from the grounds. Here, away from the main house, carefully tended beds gave way to something wilder—still beautiful but less constrained. I immediately felt more at ease among the greenery, mentally cataloging plants I recognized and others I'd never seen before.
I discovered a small clearing with a stone bench positioned beneath an ancient oak tree. The filtered sunlight danced across the ground in shifting patterns, and nearby, a small fountain trickled soothingly. Perfect.
Or it would have been, if the bench hadn't already been occupied.
Gluttony sat cross-legged on the stone surface, eyes closed and hands resting palms-up on his knees. His posture was rigid.
I hesitated, not wanting to disturb him. As I began to back away, his voice stopped me, though he didn't open his eyes.
"Your footsteps change when you're uncertain," he said, his voice less drawn than usual. "Heavier on the ball of the foot, like you're ready to run."
"I didn't mean to interrupt your nap," I said.
His lips quirked upward. "Not napping. Meditating. There's a difference."
I didn’t have a chance to answer before he stood and was gone.
I cursed. Stupid vampyric speed. “Fucking cunt–”
“He ran away again, didn’t he?” I turned as Sloth strolled up, quickly taking Gluttony’s vacated seat.
"Looked like he was napping, then he bolted.”
Sloth laughed. “We’re a lot alike, and yet so different, him and I.”
I snorted. “Both involve a lot of not moving and closed eyes."
A glint of amusement in his eyes. "Meditation is about being fully present. Napping is about checking out. And right now, you're looking for the former, not the latter."
I raised an eyebrow. "Are you psychic now too?"
"Just observant." He patted the space beside him. "When someone's going through as much as you are, they usually need to center themselves. Trust me on this one."
Heat crept up my neck. "Am I that obvious?"
"Only to someone who's seen that particular deer-in-headlights before." He shifted to make room for me. "Sit. Breathe. The garden helps."
I accepted his invitation, settling beside him on the cool stone. "I didn't know you gardened."
"I don't. That's Envy's thing. I just reap the benefits in the kitchen." He stretched his legs out in front of him. "You though, you've got the hands for it."
I glanced down at my hands, callused and not particularly elegant. "How can you tell?"
"There's dirt under your nails even though you haven't been digging. Means it's ground in. Permanent." He said it without judgment. "You miss it, don't you? Growing things?"
That surprised me. "Yeah, I do. How did you?—"
"The way you cataloged every plant on your way here. The little twitch in your fingers when you passed the herb beds." He shrugged. "Like I said. Observant."
I studied him with new interest.
"Why are you really out here?" I asked.
He considered me for a moment. "Same as you. Finding balance. I am not used to so many people in my house. Yet change is coming, whether we want it or not."
I pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. "And here I thought you were the one Sin who wasn't big on change."
"I'm not big on pointless action," he corrected. "Different thing entirely."
Table of Contents
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