A/N: I would like to thank my amazing and LOVELY reviewers of my first story—sepulkralna, Ruuri, howlinghybrid, Carpe Noctrum, Angelwingkitsune, annie-lauren, All Cats Are Grey, Lil Kitsune-chan, Stanleylouis, The Awesome Person, Reika76, Khwhitelion, gx292, BatYisrael, aoi-inazuma, Umino Akiko, sung-me, and Stacy Vorosco, as well as anyone else who reviewed after this one was put up, anyone who decided to favourite the story (or the author 3), or anyone who just happened to stumble upon it, and smiled for even a second. Thanks so, so, so much—you've inspired me to write this one. : )
Disclaimer: I don't own Alice in Wonderland, or Tarrant Hightopp. Sadly.
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Alice loved the Hatter's mouth.
She loved the many different voices that came from it—a hesitant whisper when frightened or unsure, a strong Scottish brogue when he was serious and slightly maniacal. Or the playful lisp when he was telling a riddle or flirting with her, in his own special way. She loved the speed with which he would race through words before someone was smart enough to catch him with "Hatter!"
And then he would pause, his lips turned down slightly at the sides before apologizing. She found it adorable.
Or when he'd talk slow, about the history of Underland, his voice controlled and his lips taking on expressions of happiness, sadness, the rare anger, and then the occasional bout of laughter.
She enjoyed his smirk very much. His smirk was subtle, but enough to stir fires in her. She had learned in no time that his smirk always led somewhere—usually, 'somewhere' occurred much later, and she'd be at the mercy of that wonderful, beautiful mouth.
...Sometimes, of course, it was the other way around, and he'd be biting his lip in order to refrain from alerting the household exactly what he and his Alice were up to.
She loved how colored his lips were. It made every expression so defined.
Every sheepish set of his mouth after an outburst, every frown when Chess would ogle his beloved hat, every grimace when he was reminded of sour events, every pout he gave her when he did not want to leave bed that morning—it would go straight to his lips for her to observe and adore.
But her favorite thing that he did with his mouth was simple: his smile.
She loved the way his lips would stretch out and she loved the small gap between his teeth, and the ease with which he would break into a grin, as if it took no effort at all.
Her Tarrant had a very wide, complete, unrestrained, infectious smile, and he always smiled for her.
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Read and review, s'il vous plait? Merci : )