- / IV \ -

He was so pissed off at the world around him that he hadn’t even left to pick up anyone for the night, and he actually knew the reason why: Emma was playing - no, blasting - gospel music from what seemed to be the 16th century and it had even managed to out-blast System of a Down. He groaned, turning on a cold shower with a rusted stench, and stripped himself of hid clothing as he stepped inside, drenching his body as he shoved the of-white plastic shower curtain shut.

And just then, the bathroom door slammed opened.

“Goddamn son of a bitch!” he muttered as he shoved the curtain open, revealing one wet Artemis Lucretia to one blushing Emma Winters. “What the hell do you want? Isn’t it Sunday?” He ignored the fact that he was as nude as Venus in the copied Birth of Venus painting in the main hallway and before him was the good-hearted Christian he slowly was learning to hate.

“I-It isn’t Sunday, Artemis. It’s Wednesday, though the days do not matter in the eyes of God,” Emma told him smiling, closing her eyes and folding her hands as if to pray. “Cold water doesn’t kill off the germs, you know.”

Artemis arched a brow at this statement. “You’re a loyal fucking Christian and a neat-freak? Oh, hell, the world’s gonna fucking end.” He ran a hand through his greasy hair, contemplating on life as he was still oblivious to Emma’s blushing face, however she still smiled brightly, much to Artemis’s dismay.

“The body is the Lord’s temple, and so keeping it as healthy as possible is necessary,” Emma recited wisely; Artemis raised his eyebrow again at the questionable statement.

“Even a nun needs to get laid once in a while, woman,” Artemis told her wisely in return, mocking Emma in an imaginable way. She opened her mouth to object, but: “And don’t even think of saying otherwise; I’ve fucked one myself. Re-virginization my ass; she was a good fuck, you know? …Oh, wait, I doubt you would. I have my doubts that you’d fucking walk into my own goddamn apartment while I would be ‘sinning’ or whatever…” He reached for the small bottle of Equate Dandruff Shampoo and popped the plastic lid open. “Why are you even watching me shower, anyway?”

Emma smiled - no, smirked - at him slyly. “Maybe I want to, mister Lucretia,” she replied, causing Artemis to shudder. Her smirk softened into a shy smile paired with loving eyes. “I’d prefer not to see you in such a fashion, but you’re so…”

“ ‘So’ what?” Artemis butted in, combing a glob of the dandruff shampoo into his dark hair, giving off a strong mint-like scent. “Please don’t compliment me, ‘cause we all know you’d be fucking dishonest with yourself, woman.” Emma’s eyes glanced at him with utmost confusion.

“ ‘We’?”

“Myself and that damned parakeet in the hallway. He’s a fucking psychic, I swear…” He leaned himself against the almost yellow tile of the shower, it grout almost dissipated and a black mold seeping through. “In the last few hours he’s been a fucking saint, though…” Emma smiled.

“Well, maybe he saw God’s holy light?” Emma suggested, giving him a glow in her eyes at the mention of God that she seemed to be remembering an important event in her life. Artemis snickered, his smirk ever growing.

“A bird, finding religion? You’re kidding me, right?” He glanced at her with a mocking smile and a laughing glint in his eyes. “No bird can find fucking religion, you fucking God-whore. Honestly, why’re you even in my fucking apartment to begin with? Go rape a priest or something. Jesus fucking Christ…”

Emma’s eyes glistened with tears, consistent questions forging her sense of an even mind as if there was no strict religious restraint on her. “Artemis, why can you realize anything? Can’t I ever become your friend? Ever?” Artemis turned away, his mouth twisted and eyes haunted with some mastered expression she could never read.

“I don’t need you, Emma.”

The bathroom door slammed shut.

On the two-yard long kitchen counter he would eventually find a black CD case adorned with a golden cross with the title bearing six words... “Glory to God in the highest,” he mumbled, his eyes narrowing.