Grey

Chapter 6 - Hot Coco

Patton was next. He didn't even need to discuss it with Joy or himself. He just didn't feel the will to make Anxiety.

Anxiety. He knew he went by Virgil. But he was mad at him, so Anxiety it was. He hurt him. It still hurts. His eyes still burned from the tears that has been spilt in The Who knows how many days. Time would pass him without him even realizing it. He'd spend days awake without rest sewing and sewing until his doll was done. He didn't want to put it down until he finished it. Unless he was staining the fabric with blood from his pricked fingers, he wasn't going to halt for his own health.

Patton's doll was detailed, to say the least. It kept him distracted. Detailed stitches and small little animal paw prints on his cardigan over his shoulders. Another pair of tiny little glasses. Each detail was difficult, he couldn't keep his hand from shaking, having to take a deep breath to do the tiniest details in hopes his hand steadies. The doll was tedious, making him dread the sheer detail that'll go into Virgil- no, Anxiety doll. He wasn't ready to forgive him yet.

There was a faint knocking on the door, causing Deceits heart to skip a beat before pounding in his chest. He bit his lip to stay quiet, shaking feverishly. They knocked again. Deceit couldn't move, tears didn't come but he wanted to sob. The silence was replaced by a very quiet voice.

"Um... Patton made some hot coco and uh.... insisted you get some too." His lying was terrible.

"I'll leave it outside your door." Virgil whispered. Deceit could see through that easily. And yet he still questioned what's true. Why would they ever make him hot coco? They hated him. Virgil hated him. Why would they ever do anything nice for him?

Deceit waited for the footsteps to fade before crawling over to the door. He carefully opened it and snatched the mug, pulling it inside. Somehow he managed to not spill the contents across his arm or the floor. It was fresh, steam still escaping the surface of the chocolate liquid, delicate marshmallows beginning to melt from the heat.

Maybe he was lying, maybe Patton did make him drink. Out of pity. Patton would do that. That makes sense. Virgil wouldn't do something nice for him, that doesn't make sense. The hot mug was starting to burn his hands a bit. He didn't care. Virgil didn't care about him. Patton only pitied him. That's the only logical conclusion. He convinced himself of the lie. He couldn't grasp the idea of the sides maybe caring about him. His shaking hands caused the hot drink to spill down the sides, singeing his palms. Tears still wouldn't spill, they couldn't. He didn't have it in him to cry anymore.

He brought the hot coco to his lips, managing to drink it with minimal spillage and not caring how much it burned. He deserved it. He deserved the pain. He didn't deserve this drink