Their stares scare you. It doesn't help that most of them are at least a few inches taller than you. Pan himself was probably a foot taller than you. There was something about having to look up at the person who holds the choice in how your future turns out that strikes fear into your heart.
But the stares of the lost boys surrounding you is unnerving. All you want is a place to feel safe, and although this seems to be the only choice in Neverland when it came to it, you still didn't feel safe- not with the looks some of these boys were giving you.
"What are you lagging around for, love?" You turn around to stare directly into the chest of Peter Pan. With a slight huff of annoyance, you lift your chin so that you can actually see his features. He's so close that you wouldn't be able to see his face without looking up. If he only stepped a few feet back, it would be perfectly fine- but no- he had to be right there in front of you.
"I just hadn't expected for the camp to be full of boys who will do nothing but stare at me. They're probably ridiculing my height, thinking I'm a little girl because I'm so short." You back up a few feet so that you don't have to look up at Peter.
"We value children in Neverland; even the youngest lost boy wishes he were younger. The burden of age grows every day when you aren't on Neverland. Personally, I believe your height is endearing. And here on Neverland, as you probably know, belief is our currency."
You can't help but blush at that. You had been made fun of back at home for your height. Who expects a teen girl to be this short, after all?
"But (y/n), you should remember that belief can make anything come true. If you don't like how short you are, you just have to believe that you aren't short to change that. But think about it first. You have to truly believe to get what you want, and if you do believe in one thing, it's difficult to replace it with the opposite at a moment's notice." Peter grinned at you, his eyebrow quirking.
"I promise, I'll think about it. Thank you so much Peter!" You're too shy to impulsively hug him, but you really wish he would just do it himself. You would definitely be okay with him hugging you; more than okay, in fact. You turn to leave when Peter puts a hand on your shoulder and you turn back to meet his eyes.
And he says with the utmost sincerity, "If I were you, (y/n), I wouldn't do it. I need to keep my height because I'm the leader and height sometimes comes in handy in adventures, but you're the epitome of youth because children start out shorter than adults, and that's a beautiful thing."
You had always wished to be taller, if only a few inches. But what if that would make Peter respect you less? It was the opposite then back where you had lived before. Nobody had respected you because they thought you couldn't defend yourself. And you couldn't- not then.
But in Neverland, even the youngest boy could use a sword or bow and arrow. Height didn't matter in the slightest. In fact- it seemed that it was valued. Just because you were short, it seemed like you were getting more positive attention from everybody here.
They saw you as a sister- and not even a younger sister. Just a sister. They didn't see your height as a problem, nor your age. There were lost boys that were merely five years old, and there were lost boys that were nearly eighteen. They all treated each other as if they were twins.
You weren't going to be seen as too young here. After all, in a land where no one aged, the youngest-looking boy may technically be a hundred years older than the oldest-looking.
"Peter, I've decided I will be keeping my height. Just because the magic of Neverland can make me taller doesn't mean I have to use it for that." You say to him at a bonfire one night a few days after the talk you two had.
He has his pan pipes in his left hand and a gleaming look in his eyes, "I think you made the right decision, (y/n)."
He stares at you for a moment, just grinning, before standing up, "Boys, I think its time to introduce you to our new sister, (y/n)." He pats you on the back, raising your hand in the air as a smile overtakes your features. Everybody cheers in response to Peter's announcement, "This next song is for you, (y/n)."
A beautiful melody flows from his instrument, and before you know it, you're up on your feet. Grabbing a mask and a stick with some long ribbon attached at the end, you dance around with your new family and twirl your prop.
After the song, the rest of the lost boys keep dancing, just to the drums this time. Peter is busy talking to you.
"Welcome to the family, (y/n)."
And your true wish comes to life as Peter wraps his arms around you and you are both intertwined for a few blissful moments.