A/N: Hey, hey! I love Peter Pan, it's my all-time favorite story as a kid. Hope you enjoy this.
Disclaimer: Peter Pan does not belong to me. I'm just borrowing the characters and the main plot from the original author, J.M. Barry.
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"And they all lived happily ever after," I stated, at last, after telling my fourth story for that night. Michael, my youngest brother, yawned widely before asking for another. I declined and told him to retire for the night.
"Just another one, Wendy. Please." John, my other brother, protested before letting a yawn escape him.
"Boys, you're going to pass out in about six seconds. Go to sleep, you'll get another story tomorrow," I promised.
"But-" John yawned. "Wendy," his eyes dropped slowly. "I-I-I'm not even tired yet."
"Well, Michael certainly doesn't think so," I laughed, gesturing to my now sleeping brother. I had expected another retort from John, but I saw that he was already fast asleep. I smiled to myself. I had finally put them to sleep. It was all mixed up, really. I had been the one talking all night, but they're tired as though they've been working all day. To be completely honest, I've been having a number of sleepless nights for the past few months. Ever since that night…that adventure…my flight with him. That boy. The boy…the boy who never grew up.
Peter Pan; the boy who lives in Neverland, second star to the right and straight on 'till morning. The boy who haunted my dreams. The boy who flew through my window and taught me the magic of happy thoughts. You see, happy thoughts can lift you into the air. Think happy thoughts and you can fly.
Unconsciously, I got on my feet. Standing bare-footed on the carpeted floor, I closed my eyes and thought only of him. I thought of the way he would smirk when he had achieved a task. I thought of the way he would talk animatedly about the idiocy of the pirates. I thought simply of the way he would gloat when he thought of something clever. My heart was elated. I peeked at my feet; they were still planted firmly on the floor. I sighed. Of course, happy thoughts alone won't allow me to fly. I needed fairy dust. How silly of me to-
A barely audible tap outside the window distracted me from my reverie. I stood frozen on my spot. Could it be? After all these months…could he possibly return to take me back to the world I have learned and loved? I heard the small tap again. Butterflies fluttered enthusiastically in my stomach, the fluttering feeling made me almost sick. Could this really be happening? I slowly walked closer to the window, my heart drummed against my chest, threatening to jump out of me at any sudden movement.
Could my dreams be suddenly reality? Is he really here? Has he come back for me? My shaking fingers unclasped the locks that barred the window. I felt my heartbeat pacing faster and faster as I lift the glass pane from the windowsill. I held my breath as I fully opened the window.
"Peter?" I whispered into the darkness. There was no response. I tried again, but silence jumped right into my face. Suddenly, I heard the silent tapping again. "Peter?" I held my breath before finding out that the source of my anxiety had come from a branch being swept by the cool night breeze, tapping the glass pane. I nearly broke into tears. I truly thought, for a moment, that he would come back. But, I suppose he's nothing but a memory now. A long lost reality. A dream.
Weeks passed after that incident. I had tried not to think about it, but I found myself pondering it ever chance I get.
"Wendy, you've barely touched your food." Mother protested at dinner.
"I'm not hungry, mother." I said, pushing my plate aside.
"Wendy, please…you're going to need some food in you. You're as thin as a pole, dear." She argued.
"That's hardly true, mother. I am much plumper than any pole you'd see." I answered coldly, rolling my eyes. Father dropped his fork.
"Wendy Moira Angela Darling, don't give your mother that tone!" he snapped.
"What tone?" I asked, gritting my teeth.
"When are you going to grow up? Wake up from all this childish foolishness, Wendy! Grow up!" he chastised, giving me his stern look.
"I will never," I said through my gritted teeth. "grow up. You cannot make me!" I exclaimed angrily and left the table without asking to be excused. All this growing up rubbish only led me back to him, which made it a lot harder. I felt tears escape my eyes; they stung.
"Why are you crying?" a voice in my head asked. I didn't look up or even move, but I answered.
"I don't want to grow up." I sniffed.
"That's crazy, everyone needs to grow up." The voice told me, a knowing tone executed from his words.
"There's one boy who never grows up." I argued, my voice almost wavering. I choked back my tears.
"Who?" the stranger's voice asked me, almost teasing.
I inhaled deeply, catching my breath before saying in a stronger voice, "Peter Pan."
"Peter who?" it said, as if almost astonished at the name. I gulped a lung-full of air into my lungs before I raised my head to, I thought at that moment, nobody in particular.
"Peter P-" I almost bit my tongue. To my utter surprise, he was there; really there. He wasn't just a mirage…or so I hoped. He seemed real, as if he was really in front of me, his wide, childish smile beaming at me. I had almost run out of breath.
"Boo," he breathed into my ear.
"Peter!" I screamed, but he cut me off, covering my mouth. I stared at him incredulously.
"Shh…no one must know, Wendy." He whispered as he slowly removed his hand from my face.
"You've come back," I exclaimed silently, tears forming in my eyes.
"'Course I have, Wendy." I couldn't help myself anymore. I let the tears roll down my face and threw my arms around his neck. Suddenly, I felt a light feeling of something pulling my hair. I grinned widely and erupted.
"Tinkerbell!" I exclaimed excitedly. The tiny fairy fluttered in front of my face, her miniscule tongue sticking out at me. I laughed. "Oh, I've missed you, Tink!"
"And me?" Peter asked sheepishly. I smirked at him and said nothing. He rolled his eyes playfully. "I've come to take you back home, Wendy." He said, more seriously. "Back to Neverland," my breath stopped. "You don't belong here."
"And where do I belong, Peter?" he came closer and tucked my hair behind my ear before his lips lightly touched my lobes. He said something almost too silent it was as if he said nothing at all.
"With me." His words sent shivers down my spine. I closed my eyes and gulped in a lung-full of air. My hands shook. "Wendy, there's no other place but Neverland."
"Why, Peter?" I asked him as my eyes shot open.
"Why?" he repeated, confused.
"Yes, Peter. Why? Why should I go back to Neverland with you?" this is silly. It's like my mouth is working on its own. I knew that I wanted to go with him, but there's this uncanny, irrelevant part in me that wanted to know why.
"I love you, Wendy."
"Love? Six months ago, you didn't know what love is."
"That's because I didn't have you in my life. I do now." He kissed me everywhere. My ears. My neck. My cheeks. My forehead. Then finally, he kissed my lips. We stayed like that forever…or so it seemed.
"I love you, Wendy. Please come with me. I can't bare watching you outside your window anymore." He whined, taking my hand and guided me to the open window. Sudden realization hit me.
"You've been coming here?" I asked him. He nodded slowly before looking straight into my eyes. "Before…that was you?" he nodded again, almost ashamed. "I called out to you! Why didn't you-" I was hysterical now. The following words I said were very unintelligible that even I can't understand myself. He wrapped me in his warm embrace, whispering in my ear.
"I was afraid, Wendy. Forgive me…I-I didn't know."
"How could you not know, Peter? I couldn't sleep because of you!" I sobbed into his chest.
"I'm sorry, Wendy. I'm sorry." He held me tighter. We stayed like that for a while before I calmed down. "Wendy," he whispered over and over. "Let's go, Wendy." I didn't extract myself from his embrace. Instead, I held on tighter. He seemed to understand, because I found myself gliding the skies of London in his arms.
I don't know how long it has been, but I somehow managed to wake up in a warm bed. I felt something warmer beside me. I peeked and saw Peter's sleeping form right next to mine. His face was buried in my unruly hair. I looked down and found out that I was still wearing the Sunday dress I had worn at supper. I whirled and turned my face to gaze up at Peter's. How I've missed that face. That blonde hair, his long bangs covering his eyes; his beautiful eyes. I miss the way his long eyelashes stretched from his eyes. I missed his breath, the touch of his skin against mine. I missed him.
"Stop staring at me, it's creepy." Peter grinned, his eyes still closed. I exhaled a soft laugh.
"You're so full of yourself, Peter Pan." I told him, brushing away the bangs that covered his eyes. He opened them and stared back into mine. I continued stroking his hair before I let my hand rest on his cheek, I brushed my fingers lightly on his skin. He sighed.
"Well, what should we do today?" he asked me. I shrugged. He gave me a thoughtful look before saying, "Why don't we pay our old friends, the Indians, a visit?" I agreed. "What else do you want to do?" I thought for a moment.
"A swim." I suggested. He gave me a look.
"With the mermaids?" he asked, eyebrows raised.
"Even better." I grinned wider. He chuckled as he lifted me up and held me close to his chest.
One last thing I like about Peter Pan…
He sweeps me off my feet.
Fin.
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A/N: How did you like/hate it? Tell me what you think; LEAVE ME A REVIEW! haha Cristisicms are very welcome. Thanks!