Blurring the Lines

Harlow Vanetti cradled the cup of java in her hands gingerly, the steam rising in tendrils to fill her nose with the intoxicating scent of peppermint. She smiled, looking up to thank the barista, her blue eyes wide with excitement. It wasn’t every day that she got to have coffee, so she treated these days as if it were her birthday. And her birthday was one of Harlow’s favorite days.

Turning away from the counter, she walked dreamily to an unoccupied table, brushing past weary customers. She sat, being mindful of the people around her as she scoots the chair back in, leaving room for someone to walk past. Thankfully her seat was near the windows that faced the parking lot, leaving her to people-watch as she pleased. A sigh left her, airy and tranquil as she lifted the steaming cup to her lips.

She drinks. Despite the burn it leaves on her upper lip and tongue, it’s comforting, and once again she swallows the next mouthful. Her eyes flicker past various pedestrians, their jeans and tank tops reminding her of the spring. She missed the warmth, of the sun showing its beautiful rays of light to mankind. She missed the secure feeling she got when she went down to the beach during the summers of her childhood, letting the ocean take away her worries.

But she didn’t go to the beach any longer, her parents saying it was too far a drive to go there for a couple weeks when they had work. And after summer was over, the leaves would fall and the cold would storm in, taking over everything in its path. Taking Harlow’s exuberant happiness with it. Because when it was cold there was darkness, and darkness seemed to take control of the land while the rest sheltered away in their homes, hoping to stay warm.

They never stayed warm.

Harlow jumped, the shattering of a coffee cup bringing her out of her memories as she turns to see what caused the noise. Her eyes remain on the floor, frowning at the broken mug and the spilled contents. Then she glances up, her eyes landing on the unhappy customer. Or so she thought he would be.

He’s shaking his head, full lips upturned into a smirk. From what she can see he’s looking at his boots, black and covered in coffee. But he wasn’t upset or angry. He looked... happy about it. Harlow tilted her head, confused by this boy’s actions. He just spilled his drink, so why was it a joyous event? It didn’t make sense to her.

“Are you okay, sir?” the cashier asked him, her accent being the one to pull back his focus. He grinned at her and nodded his head, though he leaned on one foot and tried to shake the coffee off of his boot.

For some reason, Harlow wanted to chastise him for making coffee splatters on the floor.

“I’m perfect,” he responded when asked again. The boy scratched the back of his neck, eyes searching for a table with napkins so he can clean his boots. Then his eyes land on Harlow.

She knows that she shouldn’t be nervous, but she is. He just wants some napkins. That’s all he wants. she told herself, avoiding his eye contact as she fidgeted with a loose thread in her skirt. If his voice wasn’t dark enough, then his appearance was a sure sign that he didn’t belong to any of the Virtues classifications.

Was she even allowed to talk to Sins? She didn’t know. She’d never seen the two mingling together before. They were opposite ends of the spectrum -- she was good, and he was bad. It was just how the world worked.

“Can I borrow a couple of your napkins, sweetheart?” the boy asked her, his incredibly long eyelashes batting sarcastically. Harlow frowned, her eyes locking with his hazel-greens for a second before she nodded quickly. He leaned over, a tattoo on his forearm catching her sight, and then he had napkins in his hand. “Thanks.”

Harlow breathed. Good. She wouldn’t have to talk to this dark-haired devil again.

But then he sat down in the chair opposite her, bringing his boot up to wipe at the coffee while still in her presence. Harlow sat stiffly, her eyes trying to figure out what his game plan was. So far he hadn’t gotten pissed off, so he couldn’t be Wrath. He hadn’t spouted something about her coffee, so Envy and Greed were out of the question. The dark-haired boy seemed to be on a very high horse, making himself comfortable as he sat next to her. Pride, maybe? He seemed to be radiant of the Sin.

“The name’s Zayn,” he smirked, his hazel eyes holding hers once again as he set the dirty napkin on the small round table. He reached for another, uncrossed his legs, and worked on the other boot until he thought it was clean enough.

The blonde bit on her tongue. It was obvious this Zayn was trying to get something out of her. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her for one, and the smiles he sent her way were full of mischief. He wanted something, and she wasn’t sure if she should just leave or engage in conversation.

Apparently he was thinking the same, too.

“I’m not gonna do anythin’. I just wanted someone to talk to. Is that a crime?”

Harlow upturned her nose. “It is when you’re an abomination to the world. You come from Lucifer,” -- this time when their eyes connected, her eyes glared defiantly -- “and you, Pride, have no place being here.”

Eyebrows raised atop his head, he blew out a puff of air and laughed. It was loud, obnoxious, and he didn’t seem to mind that half the coffee shop stopped what they were doing to turn eyes on him. It was then that his eyebrows sunk back down and his gaze hardened, pupils dilated. The hazel changed to a greener tone, the black enlarged so it only left a small amount of the color showing.

“You think I’m Pride?” he whispered, his eyebrow raised in question. When she didn’t answer, he pursed his lips. “Oh, sweetheart... Don’t you know how incredibly hot you are when you’re controlling?”

Harlow went rigid, her eyes widening in shock. Her insides were churning, pumping anxiety through her veins. Her hand gripped the coffee mug before her, its contents long forgotten as she stared at what scared her most in the world.

“You’re Lust.” she whispered back, not trusting her voice.

His eyes seemed to darken further at the mention of his classification. “Bingo, baby.” the words slithered out of his mouth, wrapping themselves around her like a chokehold that she needed to get out. Zayn chuckled and got out of his seat, setting the remaining dirty napkins on the table where his others were. He began to walk past her, stopping halfway between her and the door when he turned back towards her. He grinned deviously when he noticed she continued to watch him.

“Hey, blondie?” he called, raising his eyebrows. He didn’t wait for her to answer. “I’ll see you around, Harlow.”

Her name practically rolled off his lips, leaving her lightheaded and shaking with anxiety. Harlow went cold, her eyes still wide as ever. He knew her name.

The Sin of Lust knew her name.