Pride was one of the seven cardinal sins of Catholicism.

Hubris, the belief that one was superior, even better than the gods themselves.

It had been his pride that she'd noticed first.

Due to his pride, Jiyong was stubborn, too unwilling to let go of what he considered important. He didn't listen to reason when it was offered to him, nor did he ever take the easy way out. It would be an admirable trait for him - for any man, really - to have, if it had not been one that she found unattractive, for what he found delight in and what he considered close to his heart, were things that were so very petty.

Oftentimes, Yoona would note with distaste as he kept his shoes on even in the house, walking around in such a manner that his heels would click loudly against the wooden panelling of the floor.

Clik-clak, the sound of metal soles tapping wood was mockingly clear, ringing out with such clarity that there was no escape from those jeering sounds inside of her small apartment. No matter how many times she would berate him, tell him to stop tracking dirt into her home, he would ignore her.

As stubborn as Jiyong could be, Yoona could be just as stubborn. Resistant to change, she was like a cliff face upon which waves would bore down: no matter how hard they pushed, how high they would reach, she would ultimately push back--untouched, unmarred by the greatest of nature's fury.

But nature had no power next to a god's.

Infinite as a divine may be, patience was a skill he had never practiced.

Eventually, he would begin to snap back; silver tongue spitting silver words of defiance, of anger. "I won't listen to you. Even if you are whom I love, you do not command me, human." Jiyong would hiss between gritted teeth, the vein in his throat pulsing under the delicate layer of skin. Every inch of him thrummed with a barely restrained, near animalistic hate.

The spite in his reddened eyes and the clenched fists at his sides would make her stop, fearful despite herself. His very being was written with danger, promising something sinister should she push him any further.

--For his pride had him lashing out violently at everyone, and even when he came back to her, apologetic with the silken words of sorrow and regret, and even when she would accept his heartfelt apologies with a wan smile, she would never drop her guard around him. Humans, as it were, shared an incountable number of similarities with animals.

An example of such was the ability to learn from pain.

The lesson: leaving a purple-blue smear across her arm in the shape of his hand, slow to cure, and easy to hide. For Yoona, there had been no lasting pain--merely shock and a deepset fear that was more animalistic than human, when rationality had been taken over by pure instinct.

It had shaken her more than she let on, even when she smiled at him as he looked upon her with a reverent--relief, love, thankfulness, shame; all emotions that could only have been born of a deepset guilt.

She would take him by the hand and forgive him of all of his selfishness, anointing him with the selfless words that would release him of his intangible burdens.

And when she let go of him, she would wipe her fingers clean of cold, damp sweat, and clasp weakly at her forearm.