This is supposed to be a series of drabbles that I'll add to every once in a while. Updates will be sporadic. The drabbles will more or less follow canon, and each one will have different warnings in regards to their content.

Disclaimer: I own nary a thing.

This drabble was inspired by the CG opening of the DS remake (I've not played this version because I don't own a DS, nor am I going to buy one just to play it) where Kain is leaning (or being sneaky) against a pillar, looking all cool and badass and spying on Cecil and Rosa. For the record, I think Cecil looks like Spawn in his DK outfit, it's freeeaking terrifying.

There are no specific warnings for this drabble, except for extreme shortness.


Envy

He sees them talking by the balcony.

They seem a strange sight together. She, seemingly so small and frail with her blonde hair glowing around her like a halo in the setting sunlight, and he, a hulking monstrosity in all that black (blacker than your heart) armour. He finds it amusing that Cecil seems so intimidating, because he knows that the man in the armour is not at all as imposing as he is made out to be.

They do not know he is there, hiding in the shadows, and he intends to keep it that way. He watches them often, though he doesn't know why. Every time he sees them together it makes him want to rip out his own heart (that black, empty heart) and tear it to shreds beneath their horrified gazes; though a small part of him doubts they would even care. He doesn't care, either.

He feels a twinge of envy as he sees Rosa lay her delicate, white hand upon Cecil's armoured shoulder, the image reminds him of a sparrow landing on the hull of a war machine. It is just a touch, but Kain knows what it means, and he hates them both for it.

What makes Cecil so much better than he, Kain wonders despondently, what makes him so much more worthy of her love? He cannot help the bitterness that flows through his blood like a black and virulent poison.

He sees her move closer to him, then, wrapping her bird-like arms around the thick width of Cecil's shoulder plates. She moves up as if to kiss him and he knows that she wants to, but all that cold, hard armour is in the way. Cecil doesn't even look at her, can't look at her even though she is looking at him expectantly through blonde lashes and blue eyes. Kain wishes, and not for the first time, that she would look at him like that, and he knows that he would never turn away from her, never block her out. But she will never look at him like that, he knows. She will never love him.

And he hates them both for it.