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One of them just did. But as good as it had felt, it also didn’t…feel.

Perhaps Envy’s not the only one who thought so. Without saying a word, he senses them both agree.

It won’t happen again.

***

Sorrow

It happens again.

And again. And again.

It happens again shortly after they make their agreement. And it happens again in different locations of the human world, including a place called the Celestial City, a metropolis of twinkling trees, where immortal outcasts reign, and where they find Anger at last.

And when they reunite with their class leader, they meet the misfit called Merry, to whom Anger loses his heart.

Not long after, they all reunite with Love and Andrew. Then they band with a psychotic outcast called Malice, to whom Wonder loses her heart— and who happens to be the reincarnation of the mortal boy she was tortured for.

During all of that, it happens again. Each time, on each surface, Sorrow and Envy position themselves so they don’t have to look at each other. They have long since reached a concession to be lust partners.

And why not? It doesn’t mean anything and never will.

No commitment, no affection, no intimacy.

And never, never, never any kissing.

18

Envy

When the kiss is over, his lips grow stubborn. They’ve got a mind of their own, brushing her mouth, rushing to trace the contours of her, to lay claim and distract her from pulling away.

Indeed, he’s got greedy lips. And she’s got puffy ones, the arcs glistening and inflated from the debris of these past minutes.

That’s not the only thing that has increased in size since this uproar began. Envy shifts his hips out of Goddess Range. Any further friction will send him into a tailspin, to which he’ll have no chance of recovering.

Sorrow’s fingers cling to the back of his neck as her forehead rests against his, their chests pumping for air. Wet strings of hair slump across her flushed cheek. His eyes sweep over her while she focuses on his pecs, as if searching for his pulse.

Condemnation. That’s an asinine sentiment to cross his mind, though frankly, he’s too drunk on her to care.

But he should care. In short, they need to get away from each other. They have to, or everything good about this moment will burst like a dam and drown the galaxy.

Won’t it? Won’t they spoil this?

He doesn’t want to spoil this. Maybe neither does she, because as he maneuvers away, she tightens her grip, demanding his embrace. She hugs him with her entire body, burying her face into his throat, where his Adam’s apple bobs.

He’s lost, speechless. And not fucking done with her.

Envy twists his head and catches her lips again, swiping her tongue with his. Sorrow gasps into his mouth. She releases a pleasured sound, the final nail in his coffin. Naked and clinging, they charge at each other for the second time, trading open-mouthed kisses that border on desperation.

Is this a buffer to avoid speaking? Well, he can’t give two celestial shits. Not with her gorgeous tits sliding over his nipples.

The kiss combusts. Her lips yield under his, and his mouth tugs on her, needing her attention, craving it.

On a groan, she peels her lips from his, despite his plaintive whine. In the middle of a lagoon—right, they’re in the lagoon—they collapse into one another. The water shivers. The constellations swirl like pinwheels, like the backdrop to an immortal acid trip. He won’t deny the psychedelic effect she has on him.

This has to be an alternate reality. The universe is playing a cruel trick on Envy. That’s the only explanation for why Sorrow hasn’t attempted to leave. By the stars, she’s still holding him, holding fast while he grasps the curves of her backside. This makes it difficult to avoid fully rubbing his shaft against her.