“I can’t hate you because I love you,” I murmured in his ear. He let out a long sigh, his body relaxing on mine. His claspers scratched along my hips and I squirmed as I felt feelers tickly my thigh. God, I loved that sensation, like a hundred little legs marching across my soft flesh.
“It’s rather easy to do both, you know. Loveandhate a person,” Cheshire said beside us, smiling wide.
“I suppose but it’s not really in my nature,” I told him.
“Do Alices not hate?” He asked. “Or perhaps it’s white rabbits who find the emotion distasteful.” Cheshire leaned in, brushing his cheek against mine and purring.
“Do you never shut up?” I huffed.
“Never,” he promised.
“Shall we go home?” Shaheen asked us.Home. I took a deep breath and looked up at the purple sky sparkling with madness.
“Yes.” I smiled, my hands on both men’s chests as they each kissed me.
Epilogue
MAD HATTER
Me, the Mad Hatter of Wonderland, was running for her life. Figured. I bit my lips as a giggle gurgled up my throat, threatening to tumble out and roll around like a bothersome marble beneath one’s feet. My boots thumped as I ran,thump thump thump, like a heartbeat, frantic…unbalanced.
I stretched my hands out, my fingers tingling with a rush of excitement. I looked at my palm and saw Cheshire’s blood. While still running I lifted it to my nose and sniffed.
“Foul,” I hissed, holding my arm out to the side as I ran. Cheshire’s blood smelled so much of Wonderland’s magic it was now clogged in my nose and throat, making nausea balloon in my stomach.
Sometimes I wondered if Cheshire was born here. The idea was terrifying. I could only imagine just how demented a beast he really was if Wonderland birthed him. No doubt under all that skin and fur was just a pulsating snake of vines.
“Don’t think about that,” I whined. “Donotthink about it,” I repeated with a firmer voice, pressing the visuals away.
My house came into view and I let out a sigh of both relief and boredom. Was the fun already over? Had Cheshire even run after me at all?
Abruptly I stopped and swivelled around, glaring into the woods I’d just run through. There was no sign he’d chased me.
“What the hell?” I asked. Excitement was so hard to come by. The last two tea parties hadn’t even been long enough for a couple cups of tea before they ended.
My parties used to stretch all week long–neverending. People loved my parties because they could gorge on their insanity.
The birds started crying out.
“Fuck,” I hissed, looking up at the sky. Quickly I twisted around and ran inside, slamming the door shut and twisting all the many locks in place before bringing the wooden bar down in place.
My tongue ran across my teeth as I stood there, staring down the door and listening. My eyes trailed over the gold paint that twisted in loops over a pink base colour. The grumbling sound of thunder came and I jerked back, climbing into my pile of blankets and pillows. I pulled them around me and sat there silently, waiting to see what would happen.
The smell of herbs surrounded me. A bundle of chamomile and lavender was hanging from a wooden rafter above my head. I watched it swing lazily back and forth like a clock hand.
I woke up not realising I’d fallen asleep. My spine hurt, having been in a twisted heap all through my extended daytime nap. It made my head dizzy when I stood up. My fingernails dug into the back of my neck as if they were a needle that could inject pain relief.
Shuffling over to the window, I peered out and saw the night sky sparkling. Then I noticed Hare, sitting at the table outside with his proper vest poorly buttoned. I groaned and began unlocking everything before swinging the door open and stomping outside.
Something felt wrong. I looked around. Hare blinked at me, watching with one of his opal eyes. Slowly I slid my fingers towards my head and then gasped when I realised my hat wasn’t there. I ran back into the house, stumbling to the pillows and blankets, tearing them apart until finally I felt the lump of my hat in the mess.
I retrieved it and pressed it on my head.
“Much better,” I sighed. The weight of it on the crown of my head helped uncenter me. A smile stretched over my face as I strutted back out of the house to join March Hare.
“I don’t think Rabbit will be joining us,” he said, sniffing his nose.
“She’s back to running around,” I offered and he nodded. White Rabbit had always been an infrequent visitor with us. Sometimes she lived here for months on end only to disappear again. I got the feeling she wouldn’t be coming back for long visits anymore. Cheshire owned her now and just like with Caterpillar, they’d now be stuck to living in the Den of Debauchery.
