penthouse is arguably fancier—he’s got the best of everything, after all. How could he not, when he’s the personification of Greed?
But Nix’s place is more homey. It feels more lived in. The fancy technology is here because it suits Nix’s tastes, not because it’s the latest or the best gadget on the market. There are little personal touches all over the place, like art on the walls, a huge DVD collection, a few articles of clothing strewn about. This feels like a place that Nix really loves to be in, a place where he can be himself. I like it better than Beck’s apartment, to be honest.
I step into the darkened living room, casting my gaze around. There’s a massive TV on one wall and a video console beneath it. If I can’t find a game I want to play, maybe I’ll just turn on the TV and watch reruns of an old sitcom.
But as my gaze sweeps the room, I stop in my tracks, startled. My hand flies up to my chest as my heart jumps in surprise.
It’s so late and quiet that I thought I would be alone. But Knight is standing near a window, so still I almost didn’t notice him at first.
“I didn’t think anyone would be awake,” I admit, blowing out a breath as my heartbeat returns to its usual slow pace. My bare feet pad softly over the cool floor as I move toward the couch. I sit down on the plush cushions and pat the spot next to me, inviting Knight to sit down.
He hesitates for a second, and I’m almost certain he’ll slip away into the darkness like a shadow vanishing in the moonlight. Just like he did the night I woke up to find him sitting at the foot of the bed as I cuddled between Nix and Remi. I’m bracing myself for the disappointment when Knight moves—but to my surprise, instead of walking away, he comes and joins me on the couch.
I would celebrate the victory, but that’s a little hard to do when I catch sight of the expression on his face. His face is shadowy in the darkness, but I can see enough of his features to tell he looks unhappy and uncomfortable.
Ugh. I want to hug him. Out of all of the sins, Knight alone seems to hate who he is, the sin that he personifies. The others like who they are and revel in their sin, but not him. From the moment I’ve met him, I’ve had the impression that he would do anything to get away from his sin if he could.
The others always seem to keep an eye out for him, to watch his back protectively, and I’m pretty sure that’s why.
It’s not that he’s the baby of the family.
It’s that he’s the most broken.
“How are you feeling?” I ask softly.
Knight shrugs as if to say, Who even knows? Then he holds up his hand, palm flat, and makes a wobbling back and forth gesture with it. So-so.
I don’t understand the sign language that Knight’s developed with his brothers. The sins have existed for millennia, far longer than modern society, so Knight’s sign language is from before American Sign Language was invented. In fact, it might even be comparative to words or a language that isn’t even widely spoken anymore.
But I want to communicate with him. I want to crawl inside his head and see what’s going on in there. I’m determined to understand him better, and I refuse to let a little thing like language get in my way.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I press. “You’re not asleep.”
A tiny smile tugs at his lips. He shakes his head in acknowledgement of my words, then lifts his chin at me as if to point out that I’m not sleeping either. His brows pull together a little, and he cocks his head.
If he could speak, I think maybe he’d ask me if I’m okay.
Good question.
“I’m…” I pause, thinking. “I think I’m feeling the way you do. I think I’m feeling envy.”
Knight makes a face, looking a little confused.
I take a deep breath. “I don’t know what I want,” I admit. “I’m not sure I ever did. I thought I knew what it was—all this time, ever since I fell, I’ve wanted to get back home. Upstairs. To Heaven.” Just admitting it is painful. “But now I don’t know. And before, when I was up there, I wanted to help people, but I sometimes wasn’t sure