𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐚¹- hp.

𝐢𝐱. the sun and his moon.

꧁—— ❦ ——꧂

   Grey tailored pleat drapes were drawn to block out pale-white moonlight, stars flickered with no reply, Alice in Wonderland playing on the telly in front of where Harry and Lavinia lay sprawled on the floor, hand holding concealed from plain sight by fuzzy cotton blankets, leaning against pillows propped up against the edge of the tuxedo sofa, empty plates that once held butterscotch pie on the coffee table pushed to the side.

As the credits played Lavinia lifted her gaze to Harry, a soft smile settling on her face when she notices how wide his eyes are after the movie revealed Alice was only dreaming. There were often times where Lavinia caught herself wondering if Harry was part of a wonderland she had created in the totality of her dreams, designed in oblivion to soothe the strained chips of her soul with the intent of making it whole.

She finds the idea of her existence whispers during shadowy hours of the night with the moon, sharing her most hidden secrets in a back and forth game of cat and mouse. Void eyes and crimson scarred manuses are presented into the galaxy, disguised secrets in clusters of the brightest stars; they speak malevolent words that chip away at the fragile porcelain teacup they call her soul, because what use is she when she's been broken?

But the sun rises with Harry, permanently illuminating the hours of the night she fears the most. In the absence of the darkness her existence and the moon cannot whisper to each other as he refines her soul. The ice that flows through her from his touch freezes the jagged edges of the chipped fragments, delicately breaking them off to replace them with his own. Their souls merge as one when the universe shifts under the pressure of the glued teacup; together, but it will not last forever. With Harry the blood that lays on her hands cannot haunt her anymore, consumed by the raging fires of her own personal hell.

She thinks it must be impossible for someone to be so faultless, to be free from the judgement of sin from God. But he seems to have figured out how and for that she makes a vow to never be someone he fears, not the way others have before. In the end, she's left waiting for the moment she opens her eyes to find he's nothing more than a figment of her imagination, until she realizes the moment will not come; perhaps she's living in the wonderland she so often dreamed of.

"What did you think?" Lavinia asked, turning further onto her side to fully face him.

"I quite liked it." Harry told her, rolling onto his shoulder. "Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum reminded me of Ron's brothers Fred and George in all honesty."

Lavinia laughed, "How so?" She questioned as she released his hand to lay her right palm under her cheek, grabbing his other hand when he slightly frowned.

"Well they're twins for starters, and they tend to finish each others sentences and put on confusing shows. I don't know, it felt like they were part of the movie." Harry explained.