She opened her eyes and saw the lettered olive shell on the other side of the bed. She sat up and picked up the shell, it had a stone stuck in it's opening and a perfect hole in the top. Death by snail. She got up and put the shell on the desk by the other side of the bed stretching cracking her shoulders, elbows and neck, twisting her back popping her vertebras. With a yawn she crawled back into bed on her side, snuggling under the covers with her stuffed animal and planning to sleep.
She felt a hand brush the hair out of her face. "Weslie, come on you gotta get up."
She didn't move, and tried to keep a straight face like she hadn't heard him.
"Weslie," He said in a sing-song voice stroking her hair. He tired this for a time then gave up. "Ok Dragonfly, you asked for it."
She felt him hover over her in the air, then he let himself drop on top of her, crushing her into the mattress. She gave a yelp and tried to wiggle out from under him. He may look like he weighed nothing with his boyish frame and the fact he could fly, but he was heavy as a full grown man. She got one arm out from under him, and tried to reach around to his tickle spot.
"Oh no you don't!" He grabbed her arm, and curled her into a ball, holding his hand over her, waving his fingers. She couldn't help but laugh, it tickled for some reason.
"You are the most ticklish person I've ever meet, look I'm not even touching you!" he laughed, continuing to tickle her for a long time.
"Stop! Peter stop! I can't breathe!" She gasped between fits of laughter. Peter stopped tickling her, and held her while she caught her breath.
"You awake, yet?" He asked, she twisted around in the sheets to glare at him. She took one look at his face and almost changed her mind. He looked so happy; he was wearing his big wide smile showing off his crooked teeth, and dimples, his slightly upturned nose wrinkled by his smile. His red hair flopping over his forehead, and peeking out from under his hat, showing the tips of his pointed ears. Crazy un-kept eyebrows over his dark eyes, shifting from dark chocolate brown to black in different lighting, at that moment they were shifting from black to brown. His expression showed everything he was thinking, and he was thinking how happy he was, and how much fun he was having. Wonder if I'm such an open book sometimes because he is. So she glared at him, and growled deep in her throat, startling him. The look on Peter's face was enough to get her to laugh so she snatched his hat off his head, put it on, and burrowed into him and the sheets. He laughed and stroked her hair again, holding her close.
She closed her eyes, and gripped the fabric of his green low v-neck shirt between her hands, snuggling into his chest breathing him in, listening to his heartbeat. Peter was safe; he would never do anything to hurt her. He was familiar, she'd known him her entire life, and knew him better than she knew herself. This was a natural as breathing.
She heard him sigh, and turned her head to peak up at him, he was leaning back on the mattress falling asleep. Well if he's falling asleep She thought, and closed her eyes.
"You know we should get up." Peter's voice rumbled against her ear pleasantly.
"Just a few more minutes." She groaned rubbing her face against his rumpled shirt. She didn't think twice about wrapping an arm around his neck, and the other around his chest gripping him tight.
"W-e-l-l." he drew out the word wavering, placing his green hat with the bright red feather back on. My red feather.
"Oh, my God! This is where you two have been?!" A female voice demanded. Weslie peeked out from under Peter's arm to see Ruth standing in the doorway with her mouth open, hands on hips.
"Yeah, I went to wake Weslie and-."
"You two slept together!" Ruth demanded.
Weslie knew where this would go. All over town. She could just picture Peter frowning confused by the tone and what it meant.
"Yeah, ever since Weslie was younger we would sleep together."
Ruth looked over at the two tangled in bed, and Weslie fought to keep her face straight and from flushing.
"Interesting" Ruth purred turning to leave.
Weslie had to work fast before the entire town called her a harlot. "Ruth, could you help me with something before you go?" she pinched Peter hard, making him jump out of bed, and hover in the air. His shirt barely made it past his backside, making the obvious apparent. Weslie wiggled out of the sheets, and shooed Peter out of the room closing the door behind him.
"You little-." Ruth began smiling wickedly.
"Slut? Sorry to disappoint but no." Weslie said quickly. "Peter and I don't do that. I've known him since I was in diapers and falling asleep next to him is just something that's natural to me."
"Wait so…"
"No, Peter and I are not sleeping together. We're not a thing, he's just my friend. What are we doing today? I would like to avoid any costume changes for today thanks."
Weslie kept her emotions from her face while Ruth's face dropped and they set to work.
Ruth left the room with proof that Weslie and Peter had not slept together, and that there was nothing between them. Weslie shut the door behind Ruth and leaned against the door.
She sunk down to the floor, knees drawn to her chin, and her arms wrapped around her legs. She leaned her head against the door closing her eyes to block the tears.
No Ruth, Peter and I aren't sleeping together. I've loved him since I was little, just not romantically or brotherly. And I'm afraid that if I tell him, he won't love me back or worse I'll scare him away.
Weslie heard a soft rap on the window pulled herself together quickly looking up. Peter hovered in the open window; he looked at her and flew into the room. Without a word he wrapped her in his arms and held her tight, not knowing why she was upset but knowing she needed him. He wiped the tears she missed away with his thumb, looking her straight in the eye.
"Girls' cry too much." He said softly smiling enough to give him dimples. Weslie chocked out a laugh.
"Come in Dragonfly." Peter swung her onto his back, wrapping her arms around his neck and took off into the sky. Weslie clinging to him like a bur, burying her face in the crook of his neck. Familiar and safe, that was her Peter.
I don't know how or where to place him in my life. But I love him, and I always will.
