The Princess and The Hatter

Control

Ana groaned as she was rudely forced into consciousness by the sunlight drifting in from the blinds she had yet again forgotten to close completely that seemed brighter than normal. She stretched her arms out and rolled over onto her back, her left arm flopping down beside her. A yelp sounded from the space beside her as her hand collided with something hard. She bolted up right and instinctively clutched the covers to her chest to protect herself from the intruder.

Jefferson eased himself up beside her, rubbing his nose. "G'morning to you too," he grumbled.

Memories from the previous night came rushing back and a smile grew on Ana's face as she remembered the sunset picnic and kiss under the stars. What followed was less pleasant, but she was currently too distracted by the jumble of a man beside her to dwell on it.

Jefferson was dressed in the purple dress shirt he had worn the previous night. It was rumpled from sleep and the top two buttons were undone. He had removed his cravat after much prodding from Ana, leaving the scar around his neck bare. She had known he had it from Henry's storybook, but seeing it was something else entirely. He admitted to being ashamed of it, hence the reason he kept it covered the majority of the time, but Ana found the imperfection of it endearing; it added to his character.

Ana herself was dressed in a simple tank top and plaid pajama pants. Jefferson had insisted on staying with her the previous night to make sure nothing else went amiss. She hadn't bothered pointing out that it was more likely for something to happen with him there, but instead accepted his invitation. Jefferson began the night on the couch, which was small and lumpy and he knew he would have been more comfortable on his couch at home, but he hadn't complained for Ana's sake. About half way through the night he'd been woken up by the sound of Ana thrashing about and got up to comfort her. He'd sat on the edge of the bed and held her hand, hoping his presence might settle her nightmares. She settled down after a little while, and when he got up to return to his own makeshift bed, she'd tightened her grip on his hand, refusing to let it go.

"Stay," she'd mumbled. He could tell she was only partially awake, but her voice was stern. After a moment's consideration, he'd gone and lay on top of the covers on the other side of the bed, trying his best to give her space in the tiny bed. They both slept through the rest of the night with no more disturbances.

Ana smiled at the sleepy hatter as he ran his fingers through his already messy hair. She only vaguely remembered him crawling into bed with her. The only thing she could recall was asking him to stay there with her, yet she wasn't sure why. But as he grinned at her lopsidedly, she decided it wasn't important.

"How'd you sleep?" She asked.

"Oh, wonderfully," he drawled sarcastically as he flopped himself back down on the bed, stifling a yawn and stretching for effect. "How about you?"

"Well," she replied simply. She loosely recalled having been tormented by nightmares briefly during the night, but they'd disappeared after not too long. She was used to them by now. It was the same as always; a dream of being trapped under Cora's curse and unable to move. The dreams had disturbed her often after her capture by the Red Queen, but had become few and far between with time. However, they'd begun to return after her most recent imprisonment.

Jefferson appeared as though he wanted to ask her something further, but thought better of it. He instead sat back up and took her hand where it rested in her lap. "I enjoyed last night," he told her. His face was inches from hers and she found her eyes beginning to wander down to his lips. Traces of the kiss he had imprinted on her returned and for a moment she was tempted to close the distance between them once more, magic be damned. Jefferson seemed to be thinking the same and he began to lean into her slightly. Before they could touch, Ana dropped her gaze and pressed her lips together in a tight line. Jefferson understood and pulled back to a more reserved distance.