Hooked | Disney Descendants

My Home

       "Who would have thought King Ben and his relationship with the girl from the wrong side of the bridge would last!?"

       There was a crash as the heavy glass cup I held made contact with Mal's fat blonde head on the television, sending shards of screen and cup showering the living room. 

        How dare she parade around like she was the best thing that came from our island? She didn't get to claim us anymore. No one wanted her here. You know, if she ever showed her face here again well I, I would just... 

       "Aghhh!" I screamed, the frustration boiling to a point in my throat that was so vile I felt like I would explode. 

       I needed to get out of here. Mal's fractured face was still glitching on the tv as I walked past, shoving it over as I grabbed my sword from the hook on the wall and shoved my arms through the sleeveless red waistcoat that hung beside it before I turned on my heel and slammed the door behind me.

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       The breeze was strong as I walked down the pier, reveling in the terrified looks I got from those I passed. 

       Six months ago I had made it off the island, and when word traveled back home about the magical abilities I harvested in my blood, the news spread like wildfire. Those who had feared me on the island now respected me. Those who respected me now feared me, and those who feared me... well they run when they see me coming.

        It was hard not to smile as I walked down the boardwalk, picking the freshest apple off of the cart and biting into it without a glance at the shop owner. I didn't have to look over my shoulder anymore. I was part of the baddest gang on the isle again and revered in my own right.

        I walked past the next shop window and admittedly, my breath had gotten stuck in my lungs. It was always jolting, looking into the mirror and seeing how different the face was that looked back at me these days. I thought back to six months ago, staring at myself in the broken glass on the floor of a place I no longer lived. That girl, she had looked broken, defeated, even heartbroken. The girl that stared back at me now resembled none of those things. She held her head up high, a sense of confidence and power wafted from her as she stood tall and smug. Her hair had grown six inches, hanging loosely in wild black and red streaked waves down her back.

        She was scary. 

        She was feared.

        She was perfect. 

       I grinned again, turning on the heel of my golden boot and chucking the core of my apple at the head of a fisherman as I passed, the splash of him falling into the water echoing off of the walls. 

       Everyone scattered as I continued my trek, the red tule of my skirt flying behind me as the wind kicked up again. 

       Finally, I had arrived, the smell of fish and potato smacking me in the face the moment my feet hit the deck. I took the final step up to the swinging blue doors of Ursula's Fish And Chip Shop and patted the head of the boy who sat in front of them.

        "Oh, Gil." I sighed. "You just had to call her Shrimpy again didn't you?" He pouted, placing his chin in the hands that rested on his knees. "I just couldn't help it." I gave him a pitied chuckle before I socked him in the shoulder and slammed the doors open.

        Everyone was there like they always were, crowded around the bar and soaking up Uma's every last word. Oh, that just wouldn't do. Even though I was a part of her crew now, I couldn't have Uma thinking she was the star of my show. I tossed my hair over my shoulder, adjusted the shoulders of my flowy black blouse, and began to walk towards them, kicking over a wench with a dustpan on my way. 

       Harry's eyes were on me the second I walked through the door just as they always were, watching, waiting on my next move. His moves were slow and methodical as the restaurant quieted, the only sounds were those of our steps as they neared each other. Finally, we were close enough as he slid his hand behind my back and pulled me as close as he possibly could. Our bodies fit together like they were made from the same clay. My right hand slipped behind his neck, pulling the back of his hat down just enough so I could see his eyes while the left flitted up to his cheek, caressing the scar I had left there many years ago. He smiled as his hand did the same, the cold of his hook gently brushing the matching scar on my face. "Hello, love." My response wasn't one of words, my lips had other things in mind. Our hands were in a rush, him pulling me up by my belt and me yanking him down to meet me as our lips collided for the eighth time that day. I smiled as we pulled apart and the rest of the shop went about their business. As I wiped my red lipstick from his mouth, he readjusted my hat. My heart sighed as I looked into the eyes of my home. "Hello, my love."

๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑☠︎︎๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑ALL WORK SUBJECT TO FUTURE AND FREQUENT EDITS๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑☠︎︎๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑