♪ 麻痺する感覚 遠くなる意識 溢れる想いと真実 黒で塗り潰して My paralyzed senses and fading consciousness paint my overflowing thoughts and the truth completely in black.
he has his ways of stealing her oxygen ( in manners that both concern wrath and affection ), making her giddy in the head with overwhelming senses and made-up allegories. euphoria and agony had synthesized to become the double-edged sword prodding her towards her limits - the abyss to nothing is awaiting, and ezra’s heels are better off balancing in midair instead of fighting back for stable ground. he’s done good this time ; so much good, and now she’s left to choose whether she should fall deeper or quit while she’s ahead of this sick little game.
he does things to her mind - smears her world in black with dirty fingers.
the mad hatter is a maze she would never get to understand. if ezra was a rose that grew to have thorns protecting her frail beauty masking the many bad snippets making up her entity, he must be something big - big, bad and scary by nature, though there are elements of softness within jagged edges of a crooked morale, and secrets concealed within orbs that could haunt a dream till it reaches the peak of a nightmare.
he must be… a beast. a beast! a beast caged in a human. he is her beast, and ezra must be his beauty.
but there is no need for a romance when the beast has his claws wringing for her neck, and when ezra is captivated, thrilled, excited by running in a chase she knows she’s going to lose.
{ so many fairy tales, so little time, too little details. }
she recalls of how and when they first met as she hears his feet trudge up the stairs to her now not-so-peaceful home. he brings a thunderstorm with him, and ezra is, as always, well-prepared.
the mad hatter arrives. ”what can i do for you this evening?”
Whistling winds that slaved salvation that triggered the upcoming threads of his own mind -- they moved as the waves did intune with that of the sea. Constantly passing as did the wind upon it's surface -- gentle and all the more careless as the rest. But most had failed to realize what he was! A monster, a monster!
Aye but yes. He was a child in the body of a man! Catch him, catch him! Somebody grab him before he becomes lost! Catch him, quickly! Quickly! He's running with the watch! Oh dear, me! But where else was there to turn to, in regards to the Mad Hatter who was once lost but surely and most definitely not found. Entwined and ensnared by the pages of his own heart did he take heed in the caverns of this mundane world; lurking, seeking and creating teas that tasted sweeter or bitter to those who tasted such leaves. But of course, not everyone lived to tell the tale. Ah, my good fellow, where was this tale to begin? Poor little girl, she'd lost herself in a maze, with a cure and no cause. No betrayal, no prince -- surely he was no prince in the body of a beast. He was something far more foul than a hairy groom with no razor. Quite surely, he was much more dressed the part. Or rather Jekyll was, for Hyde constantly fell apart! Now, as for good things, it went to show -- he was much more troublesome than she would ever suppose. Amidst the amber locks, or her glittering smile; she'd never catch his heart though she charmed her way for miles! Surely, she knew a tale or four, didn't all the little kiddies learn such things and ask for more? How he walked with such pride in his step. Every sound that echoed in retrospect. Walking, and walking until he found her. Sitting in wait as he seeked her company.
Little cheeky child, what was she scheming this time? "I had completed some research half a moon past this eve. I wish to inquire what kind of room has no doors or windows."
