Cracks in the Mask

Patience is a Virtue

Notes:

Hey Descendants!

So, Thursday's chapter is called Patience is a Virtue...

Is it a coincidence that it's being posted on Friday at 2am? I'd like to think it's not.

But Twisted says it's defiantly forgetfulness.

Either way, we hope you enjoy the new update.

Don't forget to leave us some love. We appreciate any review. Answers to Twisted's questions, constructive critique, things that made you laugh (Or made you have any of dem feelz), hellos. We love hearing from you.

And don't forget we'll be going live on our Facebook page tonight. We get on around 5 eastern standard time.

We look forward to seeing you there.

Lots of Love,

-Dark-

(See the end of the chapter for questions.)

He shoves his hands in his pockets as he walks through the shadows. It had been a rough couple of days.

He should've been thrilled. He'd packed so much into the last couple of days. From finally getting the blowgun and darts he'd been promised, to making sure the Evil Queen could no longer get food from the commissary. He'd collected more black powder. Found more metal. Scared the shit outta the Queen of Evil- Again. He even checked on Dizzy and the others he looked out for.

Still, all he could think about was running. He'd hoped if he got some shit knocked off his list he'd feel better. He'd enjoyed practice with Harry. Both the chains and the kissing.

A chill runs down his spine at the memory of Harry's fingers running over his skin. Over the scars.

That had been it, it all stopped with that single brush, a single graze.

Shame had slammed into him like a chair to his face. The reminder of his failure-

He needed to prove himself worthy of them, the family. Of Harry. Of Faustina. Hopefully, that would make him feel like himself again.

It's all he wanted. All he wanted to do. Feel like his old self again.

So much had changed in such a short amount of time.

He'd lost so much in such a short amount of time. Respect. Value. Usefulness. All of it was gone. He just needed to prove he was competent again. Capable. Earn back his confidence.

He didn't need to be thinking about how Harry's hips rubbing against his made his mind go blank.

How could he even enjoy what Harry had been doing after everything that had happened to him? Why did it always make his stomach do weird shit? It was just a game, wasn't it? So he could best Harry with his own weapon?

This was so stupid.

His hand comes up to grip his arm.

He was so fucking stupid.

Uma was going to be pissed. Gil was going to be disappointed. Deez at least would probably be on his side, or at the very least understanding- But Harry? He shrinks in his hoodie.

He knew he was on day three. He hadn't slept, in fact, he'd gone non-stop since he'd fled. To try to forget about his embarrassment. But all his thoughts kept coming back to the scars. To the constant reminder of his mistakes.

He'd been so disgusted with himself the minute Harry had grazed one. So full of shame. Had needed to do something, anything to try to regain some worth.