It was easy, in Wonderland-- for its inhabitants to seek out any sort of distraction, to ease themselves of the lunacy of this land. And perhaps for him, distraction held more purpose than simply ignoring Wonderland.Something that, it seemed, led him to this-- to the woman backed up against the wall; to his hands, so rough and desperate on her sides. Their kiss-- torn, he was torn, easily so; tongue ravaging her mouth like if he did this for long enough, if he perchance forgot to breathe-- well, maybe then it would be much simpler to just forget.He was rough, fast-paced; uncaring of her in her entirety; wanting nothing more than that connection of flesh on flesh-- tongue running over the bumps of her teeth; his lips so red, her own swollen as their mouths moved in some sort of desperation, need-- . . . how sickening, what this world brought them to.