Charlotte felt her eyes snap open. This isn't home. It can't be. Not the right smell. Not the same comfy bed. This was Peter's home, not hers.

She let her eyes close again. Peters nervous stroking felt nice upon her skin. She let her body drift off again into a land of dreams, this time just her and Peter.

And the music returned, soft and quiet like a feather but not a meaningful note lost.


Changes...?

Peter sat watching Charlotte sleep. He was worried about her, so out of energy and character. He wondered what happened on that ship.

Then he remembered Anna. What had she been doing to him? It wasn't love like he had felt for Wendy, or for Charlotte. No, don't be stupid Peter! You don't love her! He doubted his own mind.

He rose up the trunk of the oak and perched on a branch overlooking the largest valley. The sun was rising to the left and he watched as he saw the golden rays spread new warmth over the island.

Wendy's face appeared out of nowhere in front of his eyes. He remembered the talks they had, where she taught him about adult life, and what adults did. She taught him about love, and life. Wendy also talked about other feelings, and how they change when

Lust.

It must have been that which drove him to kissing Anna. The curiosity in his veins, the strange feeling he got when their lips met. Especially down below.

He pushed the thoughts to the back of his head and made his way back to Charlotte sleeping on the bed. Only to find it empty.


She had woken and found no-one around. The music had stopped too. Wearily Charlotte stood and made her way outside to fresh air. The cool breeze stung the cuts on her body. With a jolt she remembered what had happened. The way he tore her dress from her like it was mere paper. The way he pushed her to the ground and fumbled at his trousers.

Charlotte felt herself fall to the floor, crying in desperation to get the memory out of her head. A hand touched her shoulder.

Flying round to defend herself once more she realised that the two hands held up in surprise were not that of an older man, but of Peter's. There was a moment of stillness, frozen like it was covered in ice. Then Peter let his hands down to offer comfort to her. Charlotte accepted, melting into his body still crying pitifully.

"It's ok Charlotte" he soothed "you are safe here."

"I know" Charlotte looked up at his eyes; there was something different in him since she first looked at them, a change of some description.

As though they are older.


The next few days were quiet. They stayed in their little hide-out; only small, but warm and comfortable. There were two small beds, one above the other, each with old light green coloured sheets Wendy had let Peter keep. The pillows were large leaves woven into each other surrounding fur and other soft items that Peter could find. In the middle a small table with candles, a shining silver sword and a vase of flowers Charlotte had collected.

He let her rest, watched her sleep made sure she ate; something she still wasn't used to imagining yet, and they talked. The silence sometimes killed him. In Peter's opinion it was too quiet, but he never said anything to Charlotte.

Charlotte taught Peter just like her Grandmother had done. He sat there on the ground listening intently to new and old things, some just forgotten. She taught him about technology, something that in Wendy's era was only just beginning.

"...And there are these things called computers. They sort of talk to each other communicating like we do, just using electri -".

They both froze. They could hear slow footfalls on the dry ground.

His hand flew to the sword on the small table, the cold metal familiar in his hands. The tree went into darkness as Charlotte blew the candle out, for fear of anyone seeing a flicker of light. Peter walked to Charlotte and pushed her gently against the inside of the hollow tree, "Don't move."

She nodded as he turned and went up to the treetop.

"Hey Charlotte," he called "Take a look at this!"


Charlotte was weary at first, but she peered out through the trunk to see a small grey pony nibbling away at the lush leaves. As she watched she felt weightless; realising Peter was taking her upwards.

He placed her down and sat next to her, holding around her waist to support her. Such a gentlemen. She smiled.


Peter noticed the smile and brought her closer. The air was warm, perfect temperature with a breeze which just lifted her hair gently as it wondered on by. The sky a pale blue.

He lifted his hand to her cheek, and as he did so she looked at his eyes.

They grew closer...


Meep. Hello again :D

Well here goes nothing eh? ;) Or does it? Who knows :D Please review if you have the time.