"Mm," Envy said, and though the not-word was neither rumbled nor purred, its effect was similarly tactile. The way he stared at her couldn't make things any better. Envy had the occasional habit of forgetting to blink; when he stood so still and stared so hard as now, one could almost feel his gaze raking over them.
"Then Heaven forfend." Blasphemy toward God or Paparazzi, it was hard to say which. The Sin was content with either, or both, an idea which he gave no thought to as he watched Diana spread blood throughout her hair. The gesture made his degenerate's heart skip a beat.
Could he help her? Perhaps. Likely not in the way she may have wanted. His Diana was harsh and foul, sharp-fanged. But she was so young, and deep down as fragile as any of the mortals who felt his fingers around their longings.
These heathens were so breakable behind their bravado.
"You bilious woman-thing," Envy murmured from behind a faint half-smile. "We may as well get one of my knives and spill this out onto the carpet."