“Well Hatter, do you ever… do inside jokes with yourself? Or is that… what’s that word… ugh… I swear I knew it a second ago,” I was going to say something sarcastic but now it's gone. I press my fingertips into my temples. Houdini lifts his head from his brunch, sniffs, then goes right back to eating. Apparently, I’m the only one struggling with what is happening right now. Huh... Hatter? Did he tell me that?
His smile freezes, “Schizo… what now? That’s not a word here, love." Pulling out the chair for me like a gentleman in a play, I hesitantly sat down next to Houdini. Wait, did he say it or did I? What were we talking about? "Seems like I know something you don't know!" Hatter singsongs, delighted with himself. His hat shifts into an authentic looking Irish tweed cap; eyes started glowing green and he looked at me tenderly with a soft smile. His body's posture stiffens.
“Hmm, if you know too much now, we won’t make it to the end.” Standing, he pulls the pocket watch out. That's weird; it has the same dent. Same initials. Same impossible familiarity. It can't be the same- but somehow, I think it is. Hatter lets the chain extend the watch to full length and starts spinning it counter-clockwise. His hat flickered back to normal for only a moment. “Fuck, not again!”
Then-
BOOM.
Darkness.
~MISSING TIME~
Woah I'm spinning, why do my teeth feel fuzzy...wait are my eyes open, they feel so heavy. Glued shut? Am I standing? This feels like waking up from anesthesia. I pry my eyes open and see I'm inches from Hatter- I nearly choke! Why are we holding hands; like a deal had been made. What did I just do?! I feel so dirty like something inherently wrong has happened, but I have no idea what. Our hands are linked, fingers knotted together like vines, together as tight as magnets. Like we’ve been holding on for a long time. His thumb is brushing over my knuckles in a slow, steady rhythm. Calming, grounding, and slightly terrifying.
“Easy now,” he murmurs, voice soft in a way I’ve never thought possible from him. “Welcome back, Kitty Kat.” I pull my hand, but he doesn’t let go right away. Not until I tug a second time when he sees the look of fear on my face.
“What—” My voice cracks. “Don't you dare call me that! What happened?” His smile flickers. Too quick. Too rehearsed.
“Oh, nothing dreadful,” he says lightly, adjusting his hat. “Just a teensy exchange. Perfectly mutual. Perfectly reasonable, between two old friends you could say.” A spark of electricity can be seen between our hands; as if lightning was forged between us as they separated.
"Friends my ass!" I nearly barked. "I don't know you. The only reason I'm keeping my cool is because Houdini doesn't think you are worth fighting right now!" I point at Houdini, now sitting at the table’s edge. He leans in and sniffs me like something has changed about me.
I look down- "Okay. WHAT the hell?!"
On my forearm I see a tattoo of a white rose dripping red off its petals. It looks like fresh ink, but it's as if it were alive in a way tattoos should not be. Houdini leans forward and marks the spot with his chin; the tattoo glowed brightly for a second then settled back into its original shape but kept moving like an ocean wave. I whip my head back to Hatter.
"Oh, you know you love the taste of ink!" Hatter grabbing his stomach, like this joke was peak humor. On his arm an artist’s paintbrush was dipped into a bucket of red. Why does it look like he’s the one who touched my rose. Like he colored me. Hatter sees me staring and claps his hands sharply, too loud- like a gunshot. “Not good enough to fight but am good enough to get matching tattoos with though. ANYWAY! Moving on!”
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
