Re: Log: Iris/Hatter
If she'd stopped to think about it, Iris would probably have been surprised at how quickly certain things about Hatter had become familiar to her. The way his jacket smelled of soft leather, and the way the scent of tea was always there. The tempo and cadence of his voice. It was the familiarity that lured her away from the door that led back to Italy. It was a dangerous lure, one made of wildness and madness, and she knew that Wonderland wasn't made for human minds, and that it could eat through whatever sanity a person might have. And she knew that she didn't have much.
But Wonderland didn't have tabloids. It didn't have cameras and it didn't have papers and websites that would splash images out there for everyone to see. It didn't have a family that was convinced that she was having some sort of salacious affair with Bruce Wayne. Maybe it also didn't have Italian sunshine or Pip the dog or Lucia (who had started to maybe become a friend?). It didn't have Bruce either, but she pushed that thought out of her mind almost violently.
Her thoughts were too jumbled until Hatter reached out to take her hands, giving her a point (two) to ground herself, her own fingers curling around his. She glanced down at the strange texture under her hands and smiled at the fingerless gloves he wore. And maybe she usually kept herself held apart, but even that had been changing - Lucia doing her hair every morning, putting a hand on her arm as they spoke, even the brief walk holding Bruce's hand. It all meant that she didn't shy away from the contact as much as she one might have. Her fingers curled tighter around his.
Laughter came easier too, and his cheeky grin and stated love of scandals drew a smile and a soft huff of a laugh. She shook her head though, even as she smiled. "I don't mind being anchored. It helps sometimes." In worlds where she had to be sane, to cling fiercely to it some days, the clothing made a difference. In Gotham, it was layers of fleece and soft cotton. In Italy, it had become the layers of linen and wool, even in the summer warmth, heavy and thick, laced in and tied tight. But in Wonderland... she remembered the lighter dresses. The freedom. The feeling of being almost too untethered. Of forgetting and not worrying about anything, tea and sweets on her tongue.
She was nodding before she realized it, nearly clinging to Hatter's hands. "Yes." The agreement was quick and sincere, her eyes finding his with an intensity they rarely held. "I'd like that. Please."