hurricane girl.

                                 “    you’re    a    fucking   idiot    …    ”    

                it’s    impossible    to    conceal   the    smile    that    threatens    to    curve    on    her   lips,    even    as   she    rolls    her    eyes,    (   it’s    impossible    because    he    knows    her,    and   she    doesn’t    feel    the    need    to    pretend    around   him    as    much    anymore    ).    it   should    be    the    other    way    around,    she    thinks   –    the    captain    is    the    one    in    charge    of   the    sailors,    and    Uma    has    made    it        a    habit  and    a    duty    to    carry    her    crew    upon    her   shoulders.    However,    when    it    comes    to    Harry,   it    never    is    –    when    it    comes    to    Harry,   it’s    as    if    he    was    the    one    keeping    her   steady    (    his    eyes    are    storm    and    hurricane,   and    yet,    in    them,    she    finds    the    calmest    of   tides    ).

                 he    kneels    before    her    in   dramatic    display,    she    sits    on    the    lowest  staircase    of    the    ship    (    he    knows    where   to    find    her;    she’ll    always    be    where    she   feels    at    ease,    and    when    the    tide    is    high,   Uma    likes    to    watch    the    waves    crash    against   the    hull    and    imagine    the    ship    in    motion,   sailing    far    away    from    the    Isle    ).    and    he  jokes    around    –    what    are    you    giving    that    boy    that    he    keeps    trailing    after    you    like    a    lost  pup?    Her    mother’s    viper    tongue    always    calls   the    worst    in    everything    (    she    once   congratulated    Uma    for    keeping    Harry    at    her    beck  and    call,    until    she    realized    they    were   actually    friends,    and    that    she    actually    cared   about    him    and    that    it    wasn’t    just   pretend    on   her    part    ).  

                “    i’m    gonna    crack    open  your    skull    with    a    rock    if    you    don’t   knock    it    off    –    ”    she’s    laughing,    however,   glassy    surface   of    her    eyes    concealed    behind    beaded    hair  (    Harry’s    smile    holds    a    glint    of    mischief   and    it’s    contagious    ).        and    after    she   reaches    to    deliver    a    punch    to    his    shoulder,   their    gazes    linger    for    a    moment,    yet    she’s   the    first    to    withdraw    (    it    always    happens   like    that    –    Uma    is    terrified    of    anyone   seeing    her    show    any    sign    of    affection    ).

it’s not that she has low self esteem, it’s not that at all -- it’s just a direct effect of the way she’s grown up. ursula holds little care for her, and is highly verbally and emotionally ab*sive towards uma. so uma chooses to put all her care in her crew and in getting them out of the isle instead of worrying about herself. because she knows that act of selflessness drives ursula up the wall. because she wants to be better than her mother and better than most people in the isle.

                      “     where     do     you     even    get     that     shit     from?     ”

                   she’s     snatching     the     flask    of     liquor     from     her     cousin’s     hands     before     the     other     can     say     a     word     about     it,     and     as     she     brings     it     to     her     lips,    Uma     realizes     the     alcohol     doesn’t     even     burn     her     throat     any     longer     –     probably     because     she’s     tasted     and     eaten     worse     things    growing     up     than     hard     booze.     Furthermore,     the     Isle     is     freezing     cold     during     winter,     the     docks     are     chilling,     and     huddled     up     below     deck,     the     only     way     for     the     crew     to     stay     warm     was     to     steal     Hook’s     rum.

                  “     why’re     so     bothered?    you     don’t     have     to     go     to     this     new     year’s     ball     and     pretend     like     you     don’t     notice     everybody     there     hates     your     guts,     ”     Uma     envies     her     cousin,     her     freedom     to     do     whatever     the     fuck     she     wants    that     she’s     had     ever     since     she     could     remember     –     magical     loopholes,     Marisol    would     call     them,     “     have     you     seen    the     dress     they’re     trying     to   make     me     wear?          it’s     like     they     want     me     to     stab     someone     with     a     fork,     ”     and     Evie     keeps     repeating     over     and     over     how     it’ll     highlight     her     eyes     and     hair     –     as     if     Uma     gives     a     single     fuck.

                                               “     shut    the     fuck     up.     ”

                     voice     intends     to     sound     commanding,     yet     comes     out     smeared     with     bitterness,     barely     a     biting     hiss     (     she’s    not     a     natural     born     leader,     she     simply     learned     how     to     become     one     out     of     necessity     ).     and     Uma     doesn’t     even     need   to     shift     her     eyes     to     recognize     the     voice     of     her     cousin     creeping   through     the     silence     of     the     diner     –     they     have     a     similar     timbre,     yet     she     makes    Harry     swear     they     don’t,     because     Marisol’s    voice     is     obnoxious     to     her.

                 “     i’m     not     in     the   mood,     go     piss     off     someone     else,     ”     sitting     cross     -     legged     on     the     counter,     Uma     turns     off     the     TV     the     moment     Marisol    makes     her     presence     known     (     Auradon’s     news     channel     is     all     they     are     able     to     sync     on     the     Isle,     only     because     that     fucking     king     and     his     bitch     wife     probably     just     love     everybody     watching     them   24/7    ),     though     Uma     knows     her     cousin     can     tell     the     reason     behind     her     bad    mood,     which     is     why     she     is     quick     to   avoid     her     gaze,     pull         the     walls     higher     around     herself.

                      “     happily     ever     after     …     what     a     fucking     joke     –    ”     snarl     leaves     her     lips     in     an     almost     feral     growl,     and     when     the     empty    bottle     she     viciously     throws     against     the     TV     crashes     into     the     screen,     the     explosion     and     smoke     leave     no     traces     of     the     beaten     down     artifact     ever     working     again    –     her     mother     won’t     be     happy     about    this     at     all.

                  There     is     no     concept     of   companionship     within     the     Isle     –     it’s   just     a     dog     eat     dog     world;     look     out     for     yourself     and     walk     around     with     your     teeth     bared.     Trust     is     a     luxury     no     Isle     kid     can     afford     (     she     trusts     Harry,     Gil,     her     crew.     that’s     it    ),     and     because     it     feels     so     logical   to     her,     the     other’s     words     bring     out     nothing     but     annoyance.     They     don’t     have     the   desired     effect,     surely,     because     far     from     being     offended,     Uma     just     thinks     this     girl     is     fucking     naive.

                   The     knife     she’d     been     brandishing     in     her     hand     is     stabbed     onto     the     wooden     surface     of     the     table,     through     the     pristine     mantle     and     making     the     teacups   shake     in     place.     Perhaps     she     is     annoyed,     more     than     anything     else,     about     being     questioned     like     this     (     Auradon     and     its     inhabitants     seem     like     a     bunch     of     meddling     parasites     waiting     for     her     to     fuck     up     ),    and     there     is     no     other     reason     for     her     to     be     out     here     in     the     gardens     with     this     girl     other     than     the     promise     of   free     food.

                  “     I     can´t   do    that.     we’d     be     here     a     good     fucking   while.     ”

                    huff     of     exasperation,     needle     caught     between     teeth     as     she     tries,     in     vain,     to     sew     in     the     patch     into     the    ragged     flag     of     the     Lost     Revenge     –     it’s     taken     her     forever     to     gather     the     supplies     (     nobody     wants     to     spare     away     something     pointy     enough     to     work     as     a     weapon     within     the     Isle     );     the     problem     is,     Uma     has     no     idea     how     to     do     this.     There     was     no     trace     of     anything     useful     left     by     Evie     before     she     left     the    Isle,     only     the     needle     and     fabric     could     she     ransack     from     her     former     home     (     how     did     the     other     even     do     this     shit?     )

                   sitting     with     her     back     against     the     mast,     legs     crossed     and     brows     furrowed,     Uma     throws     her     head     back,     a     loud     curse     echoes     into     the     ocean,     and     she    tosses     the     half     sewn     flag     away     as     if   it     were     giving     her     a     nasty     rash,     “    fuck     !     are     you     just     gonna     stand     there     being     a     pain     in     my     ass     ?     ”   she     doesn’t     ask     for     help     from     Maddy     (   nor     does     Maddy     offer     it,     either     ),     because     Uma’s     pride     is     often     stronger     than   her     common     sense     –     a     trait     she     shares     with     Harry,     though     hers     is     considerably     more     controlled.