Hello…so I've never written something like this before, be assured and I am wondering how it is going to be perceived. Hope you like it or at least are interested in it!

Chapter One: Madness

This is madness.

Our lips crash together and the thimble isn't soft, it's harsh and desperate and our teeth clash, making my head reel. The thimble is full of angry, unspoken words that we both haven't said but definitely feel.

Why is this happening?

He withdraws his lips from mine and almost like it was indistinct, presses his lips against my collarbone and my eyes flutter close as a small moan escapes my lips. He looks up and stares into my eyes again and murmurs my name in a way I have never heard him speak before.

'Wendy.'

Not Mother or Wendy-bird just Wendy. And it sends chills up my spine.

We both need this.

I cannot believe what we are doing as I barely realise my dress is discarded on the dirty underground floor along with his clothes.

We both want this.

And then it begins.

A soft moan escaped my lips and I bit down hard on my tongue to stop me from screaming out. These images flashed in my memory;

That first tremendous pang of pain down below.

The slant of sunlight coming through the small openings in the trees.

My heel grazing the cold hardness of his leg.

My hands cupping his elbows.

His face hovering over mine.

His reddish, blonde locks dangling, tickling my lips, my chin.

The terror that someone would discover us.

The disbelief at our own boldness, our courage.

The strange and indescribable pleasure mixed with the pain.

And the looks, the numberless looks on Peter's face: of apprehension, tenderness, apology, embarrassment, but mostly, mostly, of hunger.

The next morning I wake to find myself alone in the bed and I shoot up, wrapping the blankets around me as sitting at the table, staring at me is Peter.

He says nothing but his eyes bore into my mine and I cannot keep eye contact with him so I blush furiously and look away.

I honestly don't know what to do. Part of me wants to pretend that whatever happened last night, didn't actually happen at all but another part of me wants to talk about it. About why we did it. I want to know if Peter knows what a grown-up it is to do. Something only husbands and wives do. Something only lovers do.

The birds and the bees' topic is not one of great interest to me but ever since my first bleeding, I have been strangely curious about it. And when I told my mother what had happened, she told me it signifies my becoming of a woman. She sat me down and explained everything to me. And now, I am shocked even more, thinking back. I cannot believe the boldness of our actions, the brashness of our indescribable ways.

I set my mouth into a straight line and tell myself that we must discuss what happened before we never speak of it again. I open my mouth to articulate words but he cuts across me even before I begin.

'Good morning Mother.'

My mouth drops open at his sentence and I look at his face and notice his expression hasn't changed one bit. It remains unreadable. I can barely contain my disbelief as I choke up my reply.

'What did you call me?'

He frowns at me, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward resting his elbows on his thighs.

'Mother. That is what you like the boys and myself to address you as, correct?'

He's mocking me; I can tell the way he drawls his words out. I decide to humour him and nod slowly.

'I suppose so, yes. But Peter,' I swallow thickly as I prepare myself to blurt out the next few words, 'about last night-'

'What of it?' The interruption is as cold as ice and his eyes narrow on mine. I feel like a fish out of water, floundering and unsure of what to do.

'Well I wanted to know why we…I mean don't you realise that it's a very grown-'

Before I realise it, my head and the rest of my body is pushed down on the bed, arms clamped down at either side of my face, Peter Pan growling at me, teeth bared, never looking more furious than he has now.

'Don't.' He mutters through gritted teeth, 'Just don't.'

'B-but Peter, why?'

He sneers at me.

'Stop acting like it was all me who did it Wendy. You are just as guilty.' He suddenly lets go of my hands but still stares down at me. 'Why? Why indeed.'

Then he is up, halfway across the room and he stops, lifting my dress of the floor and flinging in it on the bed, looking almost disdainfully at me.

'Get dressed. I assume you don't want the lost boys to see you clothe-less. Not very ladylike is it Mother?'

Suddenly I am consumed with rage at his pretentious and sarcastic nature. How dare he act this way towards me? I would very much like to remind him that it was he who instigated the first kiss, not I!

'What is your problem?' I yell at him, sitting upright and I grab at my dress, throwing it over my head and pulling down before jumping out of bed to place my hands on my hips in outrage.

He storms up to me and snarls, teeth gnashing together and I am frightened.

'Problem? Problem? Wendy! You know what we did last night. You know what it means and when people are meant to do it, right?' He suddenly looks very unsure, his hands coming up to hold my shoulders.

I nod slowly, trying to stay as calm as possible. 'I do yes. I didn't know you knew-'

'The chief explained it to me.'

I shut up eyes of a moment, breathing out through my mouth and repeat the motion several times before I find the courage to look at him.

'You will not understand what I'm about to say but try to agree with me. What happened last night was a moment of….passion. It was accidental and not intended. You and I both know only people who do that are…in love.'

He glares and scrunches his nose up in disgust and I feel my heart drop, even though it's also pounding a hundred miles a second.

'So…I propose that we pretend that nothing ever happened and return to the way things were before.'

Peter looked at me wide-eyed as he whispered, 'Can we do that Wendy-bird? Is it possible?'

He looks at me so hopefully that I struggle with my wording.

'It certainly won't be easy and I'm not sure our relationship will ever go back to that of one that I have with the rest of the lost-boys-'

His eyes darken as he cuts across me.

'And why should it?' He demands abruptly, 'I am the father and you are the mother. And so obviously I am more important than them.'

I manage to let a weak smile grace my lips before I continue, 'I do believe if we never talk of it again, it will slowly go from our minds.'

Peter contemplated my words before he nodded.

'I understand. I also agree with your plan.'

He thrusts his hand forward and hesitantly I take it and as soon as I shake it, he let's go and grins.

'Well Mother, I away to find my men! We shall return for supper! Until then!'

And with that, he rises into the air and flies out of site.

I stand there alone in the middle of the underground hide-out unsure of what to do next, knowing that no matter if the memory escapes the mind of Peter Pan, it will permanently be burned onto my brain forever.

So this isn't a one-shot! There will be more! But only if you review! You wanna see more, you review! That's the rules! Thanks LucyMoon1992 x