✞❤ϻɑɖ Ħɑƫƫɛʀ Ȼɦʀᴑɳɨƈɫɛʂ❤✞
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Your breakfast consisted of tea and cakes, with the Hatter (as you wryly started calling him) patiently explaining that blood loss needed to be counteracted with sugar. You didn't feel the need to complain, because, let's face it.
Who turns down chocolate?
"...Neh, Hatter," You entreated quietly, setting your tea cup down. The tea was a fragrant green, and it more than helped your throat. You just hoped you didn't start tripping like he did… "Do you have somewhere I can clean up? I got your sheets all dirty from just passing out, here..." You scratched your cheek with a finger, and winced as it picked under a scab. He swatted your hand away absently.
"Of course, of course! We can't have the little Queen staying in blood and dirty hospital clothes!"
...
At least he was discreet this time.
He, ever the gentleman, helped you out from under the covers, and put a stabilizing hand on your shoulder. He gave a mere glance to the side, and a doorway appeared.
Just like that.
No flash, no sparkles, no otherworldly glow. It just...
Appeared.
You rubbed your eyes, and looked again.
It was still there.
"...What did you do?" You asked flatly, double-taking between him and the mysterious doorway. He smiled- Is that all he ever does? No other expressions?- and tilted his head in a way you just knew would be a signature thing for him.
"The same thing I did with the house. I much prefer to sleep out under the stars, but I didn't think that would suit a Queen, so I made a house." He explained easily. You raised a brow. Okay, insane he may be, but this was actually a little interesting.
Just a little.
"Don't you know?" He quipped artfully, modestly. "Every single thing from here to the far edge of the woods is my domain. I control everything. Isn't it lovely? Absolutely fantastic? I certainly think so." He made a wide sweep of his arms which you had to duck under, to your bemusement. "The plants, the trees, even the wildlife all live because I give them my power. Believe it or not, this entire area used to be a wasteland. Utterly desolate. So, I can't be away for more than three days," Here, he emphasized it by holding up the correct amount of fingers, and wriggling them one-by-one. "Or everything here will die!"
In your mind's eye, you saw a purple-haired, green-clothed (not to mention horribly clashing) forest fairy, or even a pixie, flitting about with smiles and beams of light, tapping things with a wand.
You helplessly let out a giggle, covering your shakily-smiling mouth with a hand.
"That reminds me more of a forest fairy, than a Hatter." You commented dryly, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.
The perpetual smile he had was gone, replaced with a mix of honest surprise and confusion.
You were almost sent into gales of laughter when he said, in a childishly flat tone,
"I am, most certainly, not a clear-winged little insect."