His Sin ✔️

FOUR

Word Count: 1678

¬Amolet

I couldn't stop thinking about him.

He spoke to me that night, which seems forever ago now. He spoke to me, in the softest voice, sounding so sure and firm. Each day I waited until all the staff signed out and left the facility before I snuck down to his cell, wanting to hear him speak again. As usual, he remained quiet, not allowing another word to slip past his lips.

Part of me is starting to wonder whether I dreamt the interaction.

Like past nights, I promised Renna I would let in the night staff when they arrive, and waved her out before I quickly weave my way through the many hallways in the facility, striding directly toward Cian's cell. Each day I get a wave of excitement flush through me, as if the night will be any different from the others.

The hallway is drenched in its usual amount of cold as I approach the end. I keep my footsteps light this time, not wanting to alert him right away that I'm approaching. I want him to wonder whether I'm coming...I want him to anticipate it.

Looking into his cell, I startle at the sight of him reading, holding the book I brought him over a week ago in his hands, reading it intently. He's in the same position as always, yet there is something so bizzare about seeing him carrying out such a mortal action...Not to mention the bright pink and glittery cover and even fluffier material being inside.

"Oh..." I breathe, getting his attention. "You're reading."

He slowly closes the book, resting it down beside him. He doesn't look mortified that I caught him reading, opting for his usual impassive expression, but I know he didn't intend for me to see him doing so. In fact, he watches me warily as I sit down cross-legged in front of his cell.

"I feel like I've caught an inanimate object moving on it's own," I murmur playfully. He doesn't respond, watching me carefully, shadows melting in around his dark eyes. "That's not the best joke right now."

He turns his head, staring blankly ahead. He knows it's too late to take that back, realising I've seen him interacting with the book, which is personally amusing to witness. I had brought it on a whim, having thought about giving up. Now it's clear that boredom has finally gotten the best of him, pushing him to pick up this childlike book.

"Did you like it?" I ask softly, unable to smother the slight smile that dances on my lips.

After a long moment, he finally exhales slowly, turning to look at me again. "Fairies don't exist."

It takes everything in me not to startle hearing him speak again, hearing that foreign voice from a faraway land glide over my skin, making me shiver. Part of me wants to rejoice that after all of this, I've finally been able to get him to speak to me, even if it was through the medium of a childhood book of mine.

"It's not meant to be realistic," I breathe, trying to keep my voice steady, not wanting to scare him into not speaking again. "It's for little girls with big imaginations."

His gaze shifts, sweeping up and over my body before falling upon my gaze again. "You?"

"I'm not young," I say, almost too quickly. He doesn't care, he's simply putting up with me because he's sick of me coming down here everyday to pester to him. He's immortal, anyway, which means I can hardly compare anyway. "That young, I mean."

He doesn't respond, although I swear I can see the slightest hint of a smile on his lips as he looks down at his hands that are knotted in front of him.

"You can keep it, if you want. Or I could bring you another," I offer lightly, trying to keep the conversations going. He shakes his head. I wonder how much a Sin, Greed specifically would spend reading if they weren't locked up in this cell.