Speaking with Hook often made her feel human, something she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Of course, she’d always considered humans utter weaklings, messy creatures who’d own mortality was the most damning of all. But that didn’t count here, and in fact, fairies often dropped dead faster than human beings. Hook was human, strong. Tramp too, all of her rebels. The idea of weakness utterly terrified her, and though she knew that she should not be here, curled up in the arms of her enemy, she couldn’t bare the idea of leaving him. “I went everywhere with Peter.” She said quietly, remembering the fury she’d felt when Hook dared to go after Peter following what he’d done, she realised now how much of a child she had always been. She always would be when it came to Peter Pan. He didn’t know the value in growing up. “I saw it all — I don’t think I’d ever empathised with you until he took my wings. Never saw why you were so angry with him.” She shook her head, tongue running over her lips, a flat smirk settling there.
She sighed, content, happy. His hand felt warm on top of hers, her skin tingled with each brush of his and feeling him huddle closer made her heart swell. Looking up at Hook, she knew he was as incomplete as she was, just as flawed, and just as ruined. They’d both done it to themselves of course, both of them obsessed with Peter Pan for all the wrong reasons, she wondered why they’d never seen each other before - why it had taken centuries of war and one little week spent in a false reality for them to land here. It had to end, she knew that. It was almost cruel.
"Sometimes the pixie is the bad guy." She replied, matching his smirk. Reaching down, she kissed his shoulder, ran her thumb along the back of his hand pressed to her own. It was such a change to their usual behaviour, something they’d simply fallen into, as though proving to each other that one was more viscous than the other. An act, a game, something that they were entirely too good at playing out. Now she was trying to convince herself, when she’d dashed for the woods and attacked him, feeling no real loss at all for the rebels stranded in the flames. Or after Tramp had healed her, she’d been so intent on burning the ship down with him on it, drunk on pain and dizzy with exhaustion, she’d been so prepared to sink his ship regardless of his whereabouts. She’d wanted him gone, simply because it would be easier for her. And Tinkerbell was nothing if not selfish.
"You’re not entirely a bad guy." She said quietly, her eyes knowing on him. He wasn’t like her, he wasn’t cruel to his core. He hated Peter, and he’d let that hatred fester within him, but he was wounded, not destroyed. "You care for your crew, you care for this ship. You could’ve been a good leader if not for him. Or perhaps you just belong on the seas." She smiled, bittersweet, almost angry but not with him for once. Tonight, she would blame Peter for once. "You miss it like I miss the sky." She swallowed, closing her eyes as she leaned into him, feeling the weight on her back, especially aware that she was missing something.
Her skin was already heating up, body pressing against his, and Tinkerbell was by no means a woman who craved sex — she had no time for it. She wasn’t easily seduced, nor was she promiscuous, any tenderness she was missing was provided by Tramp. But she couldn’t put a name on what she felt when she pulled herself against him, kissing him with something she hadn’t known she’d held inside of her. Her fingers slipped beneath his shirt, nails clawing down his back as their legs tangled together and she tugged him closer. A frown etched itself onto her face as he pulled away, head shaking. In the dimness, with the fire flickering and his face so painfully close, Tinkerbell lost track of time altogether. “I don’t care.”
She smiled, brushing her lips carefully along the captain’s throat, travelling upward until they pecked his chin with an impish grin. There was something playful in her tonight, something alive. “Suppose.” She mumbled, sighing gently as she leaned against him, running her index finger in a circle around his cheek. She bit her lip as she watched him, eyes softer than usual but just as steely. “It would be nice though. To sail off, even just for an hour or two. See something other than this bloody place.”
It seemed like Tinkerbell had grown up, she would have never seen Hook's side of things if she still held the values she had done before, perhaps the years had changed her from a girl to a woman, she was once a simple glowing ball of light, taking only one emotion at a time now she was as complex as the rest of them. He envied her at times, living such simplicity, a life that he could have had if he held less pride and retained his old spirit for adventure. His fingers instinctively curled inwards at Pan, eyes darkening.
Laughing softly, he buried his forehead in the crook of her shoulder, breathing in the light smell of her hair, warmth, Neverland's flowers running through the strands, eyes sliding shut while he embraced all her light touches to his skin. "No one believes that." he half smiled, pressing a light kiss to the base of her neck. Who would believe that Tinkerbell, the image of 'good', the Rebel Leader, fighting for freedom of the island was in fact a villain herself, out for herself and no one else - it was simple survival, Hook didn't blame her attitude.
That smirk, playful, light, always carrying the weight of something darker and sinister hidden within, they both had such constructed identities it was a relief to be who they wanted to be for once, the layers that hid their own weaknesses, false smiles, brutal actions, it choked the air they wanted to breath and hid all sense of reality from them.
"Once, that would have been true." he shrugged, whatever part of him that still existed from his past was long gone, Hook only lived to bring misery to the island now, destroy everything that Pan knew and turn the island into the hell that Hook had to live through. Times like this reminded Hook of what he once was, but now he felt rotten to the core, soulless, he lived with no sense of purpose, there was a time when the brutality he caused now would have sickened him but he revelled in it now. Perhaps he could be fixed, he had little hope in that but maybe he could be sewn back together, Tinkerbell could be too. Eventually, the wounds would heal...
The heat in the room suddenly grew even when the coals of the fire were mere embers, her lips finding everywhere, her touches hot, scratching, wanting, the neediness only making him want to forget the fact that the sun was breaking the horizon, truces were ending, they would be tossed back to war once again. His gaze found her's in their moments pause, her words enough motivation for him. Hand reaching round her neck he pulled her down to him, lips crashing with her's, their lack of time only increasing his need for her. Slender fingers raking down his back, he parted momentarily for air, a light growl escaping his lips.
Her body snaked over his, her lips finding the sensitive skin of his neck again, senses alight feeling her slowly travel up into his vision again, a playful peck on his chin, he chuckled. Toying with her hair, his fingers travelled down her back and went to ghost over the inside of her thigh. "There's definitely no time for that." he laughed.
