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"Obviously," he echoed with a lazy smile. "Though some of us hide it better than others."

I nudged his shoulder. "Hence why I'm asking. I'll need to strengthen all seven bonds pretty quickly. Might as well know what I'm working with."

"All of us, huh?" He raised an eyebrow. "Ambitious."

"Not like that!" The blush deepened even though the thought of it sent a thrill in my core. “Tell me more about the others.”

"Sure, sure." His eyes danced with mischief. "Well, since you're curious...We all have our unexpected sides. Pride has read every book in the library—twice.”

I found myself genuinely intrigued.

"And Greed?" I found myself genuinely curious about these glimpses behind the sin facades.

"Travels constantly. Has been everywhere—Antarctica, the Amazon, the deep ocean trenches. Collects experiences as much as things. Envy goes with him a lot, then settles down for years at a time, then repeats the cycle." Sloth's voice held unexpected warmth. "Greed also has samples of extinct plants, recordings of languages no one speaks anymore. It's not just about having more than others. It's about preserving what would otherwise be lost."

I thought of Greed's gleaming eyes, his acquisitive nature, and saw it in a new light—not just taking, but saving.

"What about Lust?" I tried to sound casual, but Sloth's knowing smirk told me I'd failed.

"You sure you want me to spoil the surprise?” He asked.

"Just trying to be prepared," I said primly.

"Alright then. Prepare for this—he collects teddy bears."

I stared at him. "You're kidding."

"Cross my heart. Hidden in his chambers, meticulously arranged on shelves. Some centuries old, others won at carnivals. He values them equally." Sloth's grin widened. "And don't get me started on his romantic streak. All those Valentine's traditions? Heart-shaped boxes, red roses, sappy cards? His fault, essentially."

"Lust is responsible for Valentine's Day?" I couldn't reconcile this with the smooth, seemingly cynical man I'd come to know.

"Not officially. But he nudged culture in that direction over centuries. He'd deny it completely, of course."

I laughed, utterly charmed by this revelation. "And Gluttony? What's his secret hobby?"

Something in Sloth's expression softened. "G is complicated. The oldest of us. The most changed by time." He nodded toward a patch of simple white daisies growing near the fountain. "He plants those every spring. They remind him of someone he lost, long ago."

I followed his gaze, wondering about the story behind that statement. "Clio?"

Sloth's eyes snapped to mine. "Who told you that name?"

"Diana mentioned it briefly. Just that he had been hurt in the past."

He nodded slowly. "It's not my story to tell. But yes, daisies were her favorite."

We fell silent for a moment, watching the simple flowers sway in the gentle breeze. I felt a new tenderness toward Gluttony, understanding a little better why he might keep himself distant.

“He loves you desperately, you know.”

I wanted to feign ignorance. I could pretend to not know who he meant, but we both knew he meant Gluttony.

I swallowed.

"And you?" I turned back to Sloth. "Besides secretly reading poetry while pretending to nap, what makes you more than your sin?"

He seemed momentarily caught off guard by the direct question. "I cook," he said finally. "With G, usually. Not much else. I watch the world change while remaining unchanged myself." His smile turned self-deprecating. "Riveting stuff, I know."

"I think it sounds nice," I said honestly. "Peaceful. Something to balance out," I gestured vaguely, "all this."