Alex isn't into fairytales, not the Disneyfied versions of them, at any rate. Her life is nothing like a fairytale. She works hard, plays hard, and spends more time hungover and tired than not. She is no lady of leisure, not like, you know, Rapunzel, who never seemed to do anything up in that tower. Cinderella, maybe, only there's no fairy godmother willing to step in and wave a magic wand and take her to the ball.
And Cinderella without her fairy godmother is no fairytale heroine.
She's not a princess. She's more like the stable boy, well, stable girl. She's a stable girl in love with a princess, except if this was a fairytale she'd secretly be of noble birth or be daring and brave or be something special, actually have all those qualities that the princess seems to believe she has.
If she were a proper fairytale heroine she'd risk life and limb for her princess and the princess would do the same for her, and love would triumph over everything. And living together would be a dream come true, a glorious idyllic fantasy, instead of alarmingly real. And it wouldn't require so much effort to smile all the time and to make it work, and they would be happy all the time and do nothing but lounge around and gaze adoringly at one another.
Alex doesn't believe in happy endings. She knows they don't exist, not in real life. Everything ends, eventually. It's only a matter of time.
Sometimes she'd like to be able to fall for it, to think that true love is out there. She'd like to trust that the thought of a happily-ever-after isn't so crazy. But she can't.
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