Peter stood up. "How horrid. I thought all mothers were kind and loving."
He said.
"Not all mothers are like Wendy's Peter." She said walking back to her room. Peter followed her.
"You know Wendy?" he asked.
"I know all about you." She said shutting the door after him. He sat on the bed and looked at her with confusion. "Your story is infamous. Everyone knows it." She said.
"How?" he asked.
"A man... J.M. Barrie... wrote it all down in a book." She said. He smiled with excitement. "And they've made movies and plays and TV shows." She said.
"Really?" he asked with joy. She nodded.
"Millions of girls are in love with you." She said. His smile turned cocky.
"I knew that." He said. She smiled. "Are you?" he asked politely.
"Am I what?" she asked.
"In love with me?" he asked. Her heart screamed yes but her mind replied, "I'm not sure. I've only just met you." He smiled weakly.
She sat beside him on the bed. "May I ask you something?" she asked.
"Please." He said sitting up straight. A smug smile on his boyish face.
"Why are you here?" she asked. His smile faded.
He didn't want her to know he didn't know. He was Peter Pan. He knew everything. "I was brought here by... by a... a... a feeling." He said.
"A feeling?" she asked.
"Yes... a feeling." He said.
"What sort of feeling?" she asked.
He wasn't quite sure to be truthful. All he knew was it was strong when he was with her. The sensation that drew him to the main land seemed to radiate from her fair skin. He could almost see it in her eyes yet he knew no words to explain it.
***********************************************************
She sensed his hesitation meant he had no answer.
"Was it a good feeling?" she asked. He looked at her and nodded.
"Oh yes. It was like... like peanut butter good." He said. The feeling had indeed felt like the peanut butter had in his mouth. It was thick, warm, sweet, smooth, and sticky. She nodded.
"Was it a needy feeling?" she asked. He thought. The feeling had felt like a need, but it was more than that.
"In a way." He said finally.
Her lips shifted sideways and she bit them gently. He watched them with fascination. They were full and luscious. In the dark they took on a pale pink tone against her pale skin. He copied them with his own lips. Shifting and biting. Her words brought his gaze back to her eyes.
"Was... was it a loving feeling?" she asked.
He took a deep breath. There was that word. Love. It had been rumbling around since the feeling took hold of him. What did it mean? "I'm not sure." He said. "It could have been." He said. She smiled.
"And it brought you here? Brought you to me?" she asked. He nodded sitting up proudly.
That was an answer he could give. He was sure the feeling had brought him to her. He felt it now as he sat across from her in her bedroom. Her eyes twinkled. He'd seen that shimmer before. Then he remembered.
"Tink?" he said softly. She looked at him with confusion. "Tinkerbell. I've not seen her since I fell." He said. She gasped.
"Not all mothers are like Wendy's Peter." She said walking back to her room. Peter followed her.
"You know Wendy?" he asked.
"I know all about you." She said shutting the door after him. He sat on the bed and looked at her with confusion. "Your story is infamous. Everyone knows it." She said.
"How?" he asked.
"A man... J.M. Barrie... wrote it all down in a book." She said. He smiled with excitement. "And they've made movies and plays and TV shows." She said.
"Really?" he asked with joy. She nodded.
"Millions of girls are in love with you." She said. His smile turned cocky.
"I knew that." He said. She smiled. "Are you?" he asked politely.
"Am I what?" she asked.
"In love with me?" he asked. Her heart screamed yes but her mind replied, "I'm not sure. I've only just met you." He smiled weakly.
She sat beside him on the bed. "May I ask you something?" she asked.
"Please." He said sitting up straight. A smug smile on his boyish face.
"Why are you here?" she asked. His smile faded.
He didn't want her to know he didn't know. He was Peter Pan. He knew everything. "I was brought here by... by a... a... a feeling." He said.
"A feeling?" she asked.
"Yes... a feeling." He said.
"What sort of feeling?" she asked.
He wasn't quite sure to be truthful. All he knew was it was strong when he was with her. The sensation that drew him to the main land seemed to radiate from her fair skin. He could almost see it in her eyes yet he knew no words to explain it.
***********************************************************
She sensed his hesitation meant he had no answer.
"Was it a good feeling?" she asked. He looked at her and nodded.
"Oh yes. It was like... like peanut butter good." He said. The feeling had indeed felt like the peanut butter had in his mouth. It was thick, warm, sweet, smooth, and sticky. She nodded.
"Was it a needy feeling?" she asked. He thought. The feeling had felt like a need, but it was more than that.
"In a way." He said finally.
Her lips shifted sideways and she bit them gently. He watched them with fascination. They were full and luscious. In the dark they took on a pale pink tone against her pale skin. He copied them with his own lips. Shifting and biting. Her words brought his gaze back to her eyes.
"Was... was it a loving feeling?" she asked.
He took a deep breath. There was that word. Love. It had been rumbling around since the feeling took hold of him. What did it mean? "I'm not sure." He said. "It could have been." He said. She smiled.
"And it brought you here? Brought you to me?" she asked. He nodded sitting up proudly.
That was an answer he could give. He was sure the feeling had brought him to her. He felt it now as he sat across from her in her bedroom. Her eyes twinkled. He'd seen that shimmer before. Then he remembered.
"Tink?" he said softly. She looked at him with confusion. "Tinkerbell. I've not seen her since I fell." He said. She gasped.
