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He dreams about her laughter, her giddy dark delight. The little shimmy of shoulder and hips when things went her way. The way it makes her blue braids sway. He sees her sharp white teeth, the little curl of a snarl that betrays the wickedness behind the carefree sound.
He's given everything to be beside her. His crew, his father's will-gifted ship. The inherent threat of his sharp hook. Were it not impossible on the isle, he'd kill for her. He'd gladly die for her. If he didn't know better, he'd think she's the one with the silver appendage, and its deadly point is thrust deep in his own chest.
Mal has always been a spot of contention between them. He and the dragon girl had been an item before she'd had the limpets of her allies. Perhaps after the son of Jafar had been taken by her, but before the girl so vain even her mirrors tread lightly and the ridiculous dog-fearing boy had covered her in their scent and their social contracts. Mal had been his, as much as anyone on the Isle belonged to anyone else. Uma, who had her own issues and problems with Mal hadn't liked it. Not one bit.
Uma sweet talks him one night. When he's already far into his father's bottles and Mal is on the other side of the Isle frolicking with her new chums. She tells him that Mal doesn't deserve him, that she'd never see the true and deep darkness in his heart.
But Uma had seen it. She'd snared him then, caught him like one of her mother's sunken ships. He'd been hesitant, teetering between the daughter of a Dragon and the daughter of a Sea Witch. Until he'd seen the fire of rage and covetous desire in her brown eyes. The darkness of her own heart. He'd been hers from that day forward.
He looks at her now, his face angled away in the dark corner of the chip shoppe. Uma turns, furious and striking, hair whipping around as tumultuous as a seascape. She's yelling something at her mother, ending in the same snarl she has when she laughs. He wants to unleash her. He wants to see what her ocean-mad spirit could do to the normal folk. He wants to see her plan for Auradon succeed, where no one else has yet managed.
She's too much for this place. Too clever, too full of anger. Too evil. And he wants to give her the world. Preferably on a silver plate, but dangling it at the end of his hook, that it might make her laugh.