A/N: This story was written in a way so that it could be applied to both Stayne and Alice as well as the two original characters belong to my friend and me. This is why there are no names and the Hatter is identified solely as a 'Scot'.
I don't own Alice, and I really wish I owned Ilosovic Stayne.
She felt disgustingly tiny next to him, always had, but even more so now. When he was angry, he seemed to get even bigger- more intimidating, more nerve-wracking, and more dangerous.
And it made her feel smaller and infinitely more breakable.
It was a horrible feeling, being helpless.
He wasn't in a rage- or at least he wasn't, yet. She almost preferred when he yelled. When he was silent, just glaring at her with eyes like shards of ice leached of color- like he was now- she grew even more anxious.
She wished she knew why he was upset with her this time- or if it was truly her he was upset with. It had happened before: he'd been angry at someone else and taken it out on her.
Cautiously, she got up and edged toward the bathroom connected to their room. He growled at her. "Sit down."
Transfixed, she sat. She wouldn't dare cross him when he used that tone of voice. When he was being so imperious.
He rose up slowly and advanced on her. "Damn Scots."
She waited for further explanation. There was none. So she tried to attain one. "What do you have against the Scots?" His dominating attitude made her feel as if she should be adding a 'sir' to the end of each sentence.
"You spend all your time with him," he said in a voice riddled with irritation. With each word, he took a step toward her. Finally, he was towering over her, invading ever inch of her personal space. "And I'm sick of it. Are you with me or with him?"
She was astonished. "I'm with you! Why do you feel the need to ask things like this?" The truth was, she knew why- he didn't trust her anymore.
"Prove it,' he challenged. "Give me a reason to believe you."
She knew what he wanted. She raised her head to look at him and he immediately took possession of her lips, punishingly and almost violently. Her legs were swept from under her and she was dumped unceremoniously on the bed by the knave who continued to steal her heart.