Envy woke to a cold bed, and an even more frigid apartment. The bottle still laid on the floor, tipped over, the mugs scattered and tainted with their wet mouths. When he peered down, he could see the bruises left by wanton lips on his chest, speckled over the scars. He looked for shoes, and when he saw them gone, saw just that days clothes gone, he was able to kid himself into thinking that Ed had just gone out for milk, for bread, for breakfast or the newspaper or something.
Two days passed, and Envy knew that Edward would not be coming back, that he was nothing less than his father's damn child, that genetics went beyond growth! Envy had been abandoned again, had been left, again, and all that talk about them being the same was a load of shit!
Rage knew no bounds for a sin that had been so ruthlessly scorned twice.
Weeks later saw Envy in a bookstore, fingers running down the broken and beaten spines of several tomes. He was bored, lonely, aching for something to do in his extensive free time, some way to make the minutes tick faster. France had become a bitter home that he no longer cared to be in, but it was a cold grave that he couldn't leave when he had no money, no background.
The tips of his nails drifted over a particularly beaten volume of something, and he winced in pain as the voices in his head screamed, wailed, thrashed. His hand jerked away, his eyes wide, before reading the name. A little smirk caught the corner of his mouth as he pulled it from the shelf, dropping it on the checkout counter near the humble door.
The clerk looked down at it, a little mask of surprise written over his boyish face. "I didn't even know we had this! Theory of Spectra and Atomic Constitution by Niels Bohr; I heard it's great. I hope you like it."
As Envy spread his meager money out on the counter, he smiled and purred. "We'll see."