You know what you two were?

Just two little cutouts on a paper diorama of the world—fragile, misplaced, destined to be blown away by the first gust of wind. Puppets, tangled in strings pulled by something cruel and careless above. And where were you always meant to end up? Somewhere at the very bottom of hell.

But maybe hell came before death. Maybe somewhere along the way, you opened the gates yourselves, walking willingly into the fire you thought you could control. Hell?

Or maybe heaven—because in those good moments, when it was just the two of you, it felt like something divine. When the warm spring breeze dried the tears from your cheeks and his fingers brushed your jaw like you were made of glass. You gave each other joy.

But the joy in toxic love is a sugar-coated curse—pretty, fleeting, and designed to rot you from the inside out.

That’s when she was born. Hope. The mother of fools. The cruelest of liars. She made you believe maybe, just maybe, this time it would be different. Maybe love could still win. Maybe fire could be gentle.

But that burning heat between you at night—it was enough to blind you to every mistake. Too strong to give up. Too weak to end it. And so, the cycle began again. Your own seven deadly sins.

Love. Hate. Poison. Hope. Jealousy. Lust. Weakness.

Simon Riley was never an easy man. He was the embodiment of chaos, stitched together by trauma and silence. Cold to everyone but you. Only you. You, the one person who melted the frost in his chest and made him laugh like a boy again.

You? A walking wreck of trauma, tension, and the desperate need to fix the world—except you forgot to start with yourself.

The fights came like storms. Sudden. Violent. Unstoppable. Maybe there was no love left. Maybe you just loved too hard, and he gave too much too fast until he started slipping through your fingers like that warm sand on the beach, back when you were happy. Back when you still believed in forever.

But even the prettiest rose begins to rot.

"You know damn well you're the most important person in my life. You made yourself more important than me." Another fight. Another line from your lips you couldn’t unsay. But it was already too late. So you kept going. "So maybe stop destroying my life."

"Me?" he asked, flat voice, empty expression— but his eyes were screaming, loud with ice and betrayal. "Me? Let's not pretend you haven't been wrecking mine for years. You are a master at ruining other people's lives."

And in the silence that followed, the only thing louder than your heartbeat was the sound of two souls breaking at once. Because not even confession could cleanse these seven sins.