His eyes didn’t soften until her hands were cupped gently around his face. Her palms practically covered the entirety of the sides of his head; they were too large, he knew, but they were as soft and warm as her voice.
But I’ll tell you a secret. All the best people are.
The words didn’t touch him as much as they did collide with him, crashing into his very being and breaking down a wall that had not been so much as chipped since the Horevendush day.
Tarrant was beaming, but deep underneath the euphoria, a bit of dread started to pool in his stomach.
Don’t fall in love with Alice.
The armor that she wore was just reflective enough to catch the light of the dawn as the army prepared for battle. When she stepped out, deciding once and for all that she would be Underland’s champion, he was sure that she had never looked more beautiful. It was not her beauty that he admired, however. It didn’t stand a chance against the vastness of her bravery, the monument of her selflessness.
She accepted his hand as he helped her up onto the Bandersnatch, the determined gleam in her eye making him shiver.
Don’t fall in love with Alice.
He could see the hesitance in her expression as she fiddled with the bottle. The battle was over, it was time for her to return home, where she belonged. The Hatter knew it should not be this painful to admit that the place she needed to be was not his own arms. Even as he stepped forward, ready to try and convince her to stay, he knew it was futile.
Don’t fall in love with Alice.
A cold sweat leaves a sheen on his face every morning as he awakes from his dreams. He is not sure whether it is right to call them nightmares, for certainly they are pleasant until he has to open his eyes and accept that his sleep is the only place he will ever again see the Champion of Underland. Only in his fantasies will those lovely eyes ever look at him, will her words ever reach his ears, will her lips ever–
Even now, he scolds himself.
It’s too late for all that, lad.
Don’t fall in love with Alice.
He has been sitting just underneath the Rabbit Hole for the past two weeks, absently doing needlework. He tells himself he works here because it is quieter, because a change of environment will spark the creativity he lost on the Frabjous day, but in his heart he knows. He gave himself very good advice, but simply could not follow it. A sigh escapes him as he stands, ready to return to his workshop for the night. He cannot sleep here again.
Just as he turns away, he hears a thud behind him, accompanied by a quiet noise of pain as someone in a blue dress hits the floor after quite a fall.