disclaimer: KH not mine
notes: holy mother of Dobby, i watched Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows yesterday.
p.s- I wish it was yesterday so I can watch it again.


morbid thing, life
(no, no, you know it will always just be me.
let's get these hearts beating, faster; faster.)


She met him when she was nine.

Silly, pretty little Alice— with her silly, pretty shiny hair, and her wide blue eyes, she was a foolish little thing, who only had eyes for him. Many had eyes only for her, and many had eyes only for her head. Mainly those jealous courtesan ladies, who had nothing better to do, than to pick on a more beautiful, cultured; child like lady— who the object of their desire, only saw.

Engaged to the Luxord, the King of Wonderland, but in love with a mere scribe— at least that's what the stories said. Zexion was the scribe, the dark, brooding scribe, whose cold beauty has attracted the purest of hearts. Zexion knew that, Luxord knew that, Alice knew that these fairy tales ended horribly and—

None were surprised to find Zexion dead from a quick, "Off with his head!"

Especially not Alice— who found him dead on her wedding day.

the end