A Castle Made Of Dreams

WITCHCRAFT. IT HAD to be witchcraft. Wallace had no other explanation for how the hat was able to move by its own.

From his side of the pub, he watched in a mixture of horror and curiosity as the girl leaned over the counter, pouncing on the hat as it struggled to get out of her grip. The fabric pulled against flesh, trying to free itself but all in vain. There was a malicious smile that hung upon the girl’s lips when she placed the hat on her head.

However, the second she let go, the hat lifted off from her fire-red hair, floating towards the ceiling in a last ditch attempt to escape. Even more surprising was the fact that the girl, in order to grab the hat again, levitated with the black hat and off the table, arms stretched high before her fingers curled around the clothing item.

In the middle of the air, she clutched the hat to her chest, pouting to herself. Her legs were crossed as she muttered under her breath, Wallace’s presence seemingly forgotten, “Darned hat! Why won’t you stay still?”

“You’re flying,” Wallace gaped, jaw hung wide as he rubbed at his eyes. “And I must be dreaming.”

That must’ve been enough to remind the girl that there was someone else present. She lowered herself onto the ground, landing as light as a feather all while clutching the hat close to her chest. “Dreams are good for the little people,” she said.

“The hat is sentient?” With a quivering finger, Wallace pointed at the bunched up cloth in the girl’s hands. As if it could understand his words, the hat started to move again, shaking violently.

“And very mischievous. Can’t help itself but scout for new tales every time we’re in town.” The girl’s forehead wrinkled in annoyance, examining the hat’s fabric. “If it tears, I swear I’ll—”

“Why don’t you just sew some ribbons onto it?” Wallace cut in.

He reached behind the counter, grabbing a sewing kit he stashed there along with a satin scarf that a customer had left behind months ago. Since he waited on tables during the day, Wallace had torn his apron quite a few times. The sewing kit allowed him to fix his uniform before he had to go on stage, making him seem more presentable and sightly.

Gingerly, he stretched out a hand towards the girl, nodding his head at the hat.

“Sew it?” The girl echoed after him, all while handing the hat over. “That’s not too shabby of an idea.” Then, under her breath, she lowered her voice, “I could’ve thought of that.”

With a dimpled smirk, Wallace carefully threaded the needle, stitching neatly-cut strips of cloth to two equally-spaced sides of the hat’s rim. The girl watched with silent intrigue, subconsciously hovering in the air just to get a better look over Wallace’s broad shoulders as he worked.

When he was finally done, Wallace turned around just in time to see the girl land on the floor, standing on the balls of her feet as she whistled in appreciation.

“With this, the hat will stay in place.” Placing the hat over the girl’s head, he tied the two strips of ribbon under the girl’s chin. He made sure not to pull the ribbon too tightly, adjusting it so that it looked and felt pleasant.

Wallace hadn’t even realized that their faces were so close until he had finished the knot, his eyes raised to see the girl’s caramel eyes staring intently at his own freckled features. Their noses were almost touching, mere millimeters between their skins. It was enough to make Wallace’s heart skip a painful beat.