Grey

Chapter 7 - Perfect

The hot cocoa was left half full and cold in the corner as Deceit finished Patton's doll. The minor burns on his hands only minorly hindered his progress. The sun hadn't quite set, so in the meantime Deceit began on Virgil's doll. It hurt a bit, working on Virgil. He felt conflicted, unsure of how to feel. Virgil had hurt him, he had yelled and scolded him until he broke. And yet a small, dim part of him hoped desperately that maybe the hot coco meant something. That is wasn't out of pity. His doubt started to extinguish that light in him, to drown out the flicker of hope in him. It stung like a needle in his heart.

Bit by bit, he hyper focused on Virgil's doll, it requiring more of his attention then the previous dolls. It was relaxing, he had feared this doll would bring the most pain to him, and it did at first. Now, with his attention entirely consumed, it hadn't had the chance. The sun had long slipped below the horizon, Deceit had yet to notice. Not until his stomach growled.

Food. When's the last time he ate? His stomach decided to curl and crunch itself into a coil, yelling at him for neglecting it. Deceit glanced up, caught off guard at the lack of sun. He pulled himself up, snatching up Patton's doll. He approaches the door nervously, listening intently for footsteps. Silence. He had grown comfortable with silence, the happy chatter just made his eyes burn. He slipped out of his room into the dark hall.

---

After delivering Patrons doll and raiding the kitchen as quickly and silently as possible, he hide back into his room. He quietly took a bite of the Poptart, letting out a quiet happy sigh, almost immediately feeling better. Pop tarts weren't exactly a meal, but it was the easiest thing to snag quickly. He didn't want to get caught, he didn't want to go through that again. Deceit returned his attention to Virgil's doll, his small hoodie almost done. He had piles of purple threats around him, having been indecisive about which one to use. He had messed up the slightest bit, the hoodie being a bit large on the doll. But it worked in the end, he tried to convince himself. It didn't have to be perfect.

He couldn't accomplish perfect. He couldn't even be good, or ok, or even mediocre. How could he dare expect his work to be perfect. He was a failure. At least his work was better than he was.

Tears decided to greet him this time, but he ignored them, forcing himself to work twice as hard after taking a bite of his pop tart. The pop tart soon went entirely neglected as deceit worked for hours on end. He worked as if this doll could fix him if he made it good enough.
But it would never be perfect.