"I am using this spirit gum to stick this necklace over my tattoo. Now stop poking your nose down my cleavage and give me some privacy, Envy."
This was always my favorite part of the day, when I could observe the wicked gleams of a glare I wasn't meant to see.
Lust was getting a migraine. It had started with an aura, a little blind spot that had popped into her vision the minute Envy sidled up to her and said family meeting.
Lust had memories. They were strange, confusing, painful. But she thought maybe she remembered love. Also hate. They seemed, from her perspective, very much alike.
The human body (or rather, the nearly-human homunculus body) is really an incredible thing.
The boy's brother stretches out a flesh-and-blood hand towards her, and at that moment she hates him, hates them all.