Mad Hatter - Jonathan Crane X Reader

Chapter Six

Soft quilts caressed my whole body,  engulfing my curves and flaws.  I could feel the difference straight away,  the change from the usual scratchy, paper-thin sheets.  Snuggling under the thick, warm, covers,  the soft silk rested on my skin. 
Wait- what?  Silk?  At once my eyes snapped open,  this wasn't my usual cell.  It was quiet, with no screaming,  buzzing of doors,  or that strong musty smell that always lingered in the air of Arkham.  My head was buried under the thick,  silk quilts, and all I could see was darkness,  fear filled me for what I would see when I pulled the quilts away,  or if I would wake up and the soft quilts would all be a dream.
The next thing I noticed before looking above the quilts was my pyjamas.  A pair of cotton trousers,  and a matching vest.  Running my fingers along the vest, I knew I wasn't dreaming.  The vest was soothing and soft,  how long had I been passed out for?  Long enough for someone to change me, move me,  and get me comfy. 
The last person I remembered was Crane...was this his doing?  Did he move me?  Change me?  A sudden arousing of discomfort surrounded me,  this wasn't his doing... It couldn't be.

Curiosity finally took over,  pulling away the silk duvet,  I tightly shut my eyes.  It took me a few seconds of contemplating before I opened my eyes.

The first thing I noticed was the colour of my duvet,  a deep dark green silk.  It was gorgeous.  Looking up the room had oak walls,  covered in bookshelves,  that held books, little trinkets in old cigar boxes,  ships in bottles covered in a thick coat of dust, a butterfly preserved in resin, and a taxidermied fox.  It felt so surreal,  the bookshelf itself had been organised so well, that it was almost a piece of art.  Talking about art,  two paintings were on either side of each of the bookshelves, each lit up by one small light resting above it. Each painting seemed to be of a different girl, some happy, some sad, some emotionless. But each girl was flawless, incredibly beautiful and innocent-looking.
Between two of the bookshelves was a small deep green armchair,  matching the duvet,  next to it was a small dark oak table,  with a table light resting on it. 
The room was big,  bigger than any room I had ever had,  even before the cell.  The bed was a double,  and three bookshelves could fit on one wall opposite my bed. 
Rolling over,  I sat up.  Looking around more clearly,  there was one large window draped with deep velvet red curtains,  and two doors leading into the room.  Both big oak doors,  one opposite my bed,  the other to the left of me.  Placing my feet on the cold wooden floor,  I noticed a pair of large fluffy slippers resting perfectly next to my bed.  They must be for me,  and they were!  Trying them on they fit perfectly.  Whoever's house this is planned. 
The door to my left was the closest,  so it was the first one I chose to enter.  Clutching the metal doorknob,  I twisted it opening the door to a large ensuite bathroom.  A window lets light pour in,  draped in the same red velvet curtains as the other room. A round vintage bathtub was in front of the window,  it was white with golden taps and a small showerhead.  A little bamboo table was next to the bath,  with candles,  bath bombs,  bubbles and lavender body wash, arranged beautifully and neatly.

The sink matched the bath with its golden taps.  Black and white tiles paved the floor and walls, with several cabinets surrounding the sink. Opening the cabinets arrangements of brightly coloured shampoo,  conditioner,  moisturizer,  hair mousse and even more body wash rested on the top shelf.  Underneath was a whole basket of almost every sanitary product available,  in every size,  shape, and colour that you could think of.  Next shelf down was an organizer filled with make-up.  Neatly organized in colour order and what type of make-up it was.  Blushes,  foundation,  concealer,  mascara,  eyeliner,  bronzer and much more are all placed in one organizer,  on one shelf.
It was a large cabinet,  but every shelf was full and there were still two more cabinets to open.
The next cabinet alone had hair brushes of all sorts.  Hair products from straighteners to crimpers to tight curling wands could turn the straightest hair into an afro within a few swipes.  Hairspray, hair ties,  claw clips, headbands.  I was being spoilt here.
The final cabinet was half empty,  with a toothbrush and several different toothpaste on the top shelve.  Underneath was a razor, shaving cream, hair removal cream and waxing strips.  But the final bottom shelf was empty.
Walking back over to the sink,  an old vintage mirror that was above.  Looking at my reflection,  I noticed a double door behind me.  It wasn't the one I had come into the bathroom,  that was to my right.  Turning around I inspected the doors before opening them slowly to build tension.
And building tension it did so.  My breath left my chest, and rows upon rows of rails went back at least two metres.  Each rail filled with clothes,  once again neatly arranged in colour order.  At the bottom of the cupboard were at least twenty shoes,  trainers,  high heels and another pair of slippers. Was this all for me?
Leaving the ensuite next door must have been the way out of this room.  I was correct, the opening it,t led to a long dimly lit corridor. The walls were a deep green wallpaper,  with doors evenly spaced apart. The doors and floor were a matching dark oak.  At the end of the corridor was a spiral staircase. 
But I stopped.  I could hear moving from downstairs.  Was that Crane-?  It was the only person who could've done this to me.  Creeping down the spiral wooden staircase,  it lead to once again another corridor.  Matching the one upstairs apart from a few fewer doors.  The last door in the corridor was open,  that was where whoever was moving was. Going through the door,  the room was massive.  Twice the size of my bedroom with a roaring fire and the same green wallpaper as upstairs.  Dark oak bordered the bottom of the walls,  with bookshelves on either side of the fireplace and another painting of this time a sad man above the fireplace.  A green couch and armchair faced the fireplace,  with a window behind me.
 
Someone was in the armchair.

"How did you sleep, darling? " Came the familiar voice of Jonathon Crane from the deep green armchair.