Inspired by some fantastic art on Tumblr!

Warnings : Deceit-centric angst, Morally gray/borderline unsympathetic core sides + Remus

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Deceit stared down at the cupcake he'd made himself, and his vision blurred as he sung softly. He was in his pajamas. In fact, he hadn't changed all day. Deciding to stay in the only clothes that brought him comfort on this day.

They were the last thing he'd received as a birthday gift.

It was quite awhile ago, and the blue and yellow bottoms were showing signs of the time that had passed. The top no longer fit, so he just wore a simple black shirt with it.

Deceit's hat and capelet we're discarded beside him. He had made progress, or so he had thought. Deceit had actually left his room earlier, if only to get some food so that today he wouldn't starve.

Everyone was in the living room, talking amongst themselves or brainstorming for a new video. They saw Deceit walk into the kitchen. Virgil had made some harsh remark that Deceit wasn't in the mood to respond to. Remus refused to look at Deceit as he walked by.

That's what hurt Deceit most, he guessed. Was Remus ignoring him. He'd gotten used to the others ignoring the fact it was his birthday, and them always making a point to switch the topic whenever Deceit brought it up.

Remus used to always spend it with Deceit, actually making the day fun and interesting. But after hanging around the core sides for long enough... He stopped. Remus two years ago had wished him a happy birthday, and Deceit only wished that he had cherished the moment longer, not knowing that would be the last time he'd ever be told those two little words.

His vision blurred as he started down at the cupcake, and his throat closed up, a choked sob escaping him. Deceit covered his mouth, muffling the sounds and squeezing his eye shut as he finished singing happy birthday to himself.

Tears slid down his cheeks as he tried and failed to regain his composure, the clock ticking closer and closer to the end of the day. Deceit set the cupcake down, curling further into himself, wishing that at least one of them would even acknowledge today.

"Next year will be better," he lied.