WONDERLAND ✯ Louis Partridge

23 | Make A Choice

Y/N

_

IT TURNS OUT ALICE WAS THE FIRST GIRL, AFTER ALL.

While I was the one who got beat up, battered, nearly killed, and had a wound the size of a baguette down my arm, she was the one to kill the Jabberwocky. I couldn't be mad though, she saved my life. It was just less than fortunate that she had the final blow.

But where am I?

I don't remember anything after that, considering I passed out, but wherever I've been taken is familiar. That smell of birch wood, basil, and lavender tickled my nose, as the warmth of the sun shone upon where I was laying on a pillowy surface.

I slowly opened my eyes, only to realize I was back in my old room (or Louis' old room, but now's not the time for that debate). The warm glow streaming in through the mint shutters told me it was sometime in the early afternoon, bird calls already dying down into a lazy haze. But something caught my attention. From where I lay, staring up at the ceiling, I could feel warm puffs of air gliding against my neck like waves.

I turned my head.

Louis was curled up on top of the blankets next to me, his mouth hung open slightly as he slept. His head was nearly falling off the pillow, but his arms were clutched around it as if he was afraid of letting it go. Shifting my body to face him, I winced at the feeling of my wound pressing into the mattress as I looked at him.

The boy's eyes fluttered open at the sound of my pain.

Now we were laying on our sides, staring at each other with groggy smiles on our faces. Looking at his familiar face now was enough to distract me from the memories of yesterday's battle.

"Hi," he breathed out.

"Hello," I said back.

I wondered how I got here. All I remembered was fighting the Jabberwocky, getting saved by Alice, and passing out in his arms. He must have carried me back then—and the feeling of bandages wrapped around my arm told me he played 'doctor' at one point.

"Did we win?" I mumbled, not breaking my gaze.

He nodded his head. "We won."

"Are you okay?"

"Physically, yes," he smiled softly, pressing his cheek further into his pillow, "mentally, a bit mad."

I laughed at his joke, before slowly sitting up, my right arm braced around my stomach uncomfortably. I could feel the gash running from along my neck to my elbow, and it was probably the most painful thing I'd ever felt. I winced again, and Louis shuffled out from his spot on the bed, grabbing my hand and pulling me gently back down.

"No," he said sharply, "you're not getting up."

I let my back hit the bed. "I'm hungry."

"I'll get you something."

"Why can't I get myself something?"

"Because you're hurt, and you need to rest for another hour or so," he said, pinning me down by my shoulders. At his demanding tone, I stopped wriggling around, deciding to give him a sarcastic pout instead. He chuckled under his breath, "cranberry scone?"

I pouted again. "Cranberry scone."

"Skipper tea?"

"No, I'm in the mood for Jester."

"Alright, darling, I'll get it for you," he said, bending down and kissing my forehead lightly. Rolling off the mattress, he made his way to the door, but stopped to give me a stern glare. "If I see you out of bed before I tell you so, I'm locking you in this room."