â to land on top of him
  â Oi, captain !! â before peter couldâve turned his head to the lost boy who had addressed him, an acorn fired with an impressive accuracy that the shooter couldâve only been tootles hit the leader in the back of the head, â youâre staring !! â they had all noticed it by now âwell, all except the girl peterâs eyes had been stuck on from the moment tiger lily had had enough with the silence and uninteresting conversations, and turned up the music instead to fill the night with laughter and dancing. lily had forced john to dance with her and as brothers who didnât want to dance did, he had dragged his sister onto the makeshift dance floor around the fireplace too. wendy was a bird, if he had not known it before, peter would be convinced now by the way she floated in the air right now, moving to the music and laughing her ringing laugh.
  â Ouch !! â another acorn had hit him in the same spot and finally peterâs head snapped around to growl at his lost boys, brown eyes no longer filled with admiration but a burning fury. â quit it, bilge rat, or i shall break your slingshot !! cut off a finger or two too if iâm feeling like it !!â his hand already reached for the pocket knife bound to his belt, if just to make his threat seem more serious, something to be terrified of, and different circumstances aside, they knew he had not faltered when it came to cutting off someoneâs hand once before, did they not?
 However, before he could even throw another insult into tootles direction, let alone wave his knife in the lost boyâs direction, something or better someone landed on top of him. arms wrapped around his neck, his little birdâs giggle was in his ear, finding no fear but amusement in his words because she knew that they were meaningless â and already forgotten. peterâs attention had turned back to her immediately, any bit of harshness leaving his features once more and instead her light-hearted chuckling was met with a smile of his own. â done dancing? â
â to get dared to kiss her
â Wait, what?! â there had been no more than maybe two or three times that someone had managed to shock peter pan into complete and utter speechlessness â notabene, one of which included a crocodile chewing on his friendâs left hand â and yet peter found this time to be the most outrageous. the bonfire with the lost boys had been supposed to be a peaceful one, no loud and extravagant celebration but the sole appreciation for the ever approaching summer and the warmth of the sun. heâd invited wendy; one of peter panâs unspoken acts of kindness as he knew his lost boys missed her too, and even though time had become rare and peter did no longer spend most of his nights with his little bird, he could not keep her all for himself no matter how much he wanted to. he needed to take care of his lost boys first.
 â You heard me, â slightly; one of the first lost boys and the one peter once upon a time trusted the most but now definitely no more, nodded towards the girl in their circle, âi dare you, our oh so unafraid leader, to kiss the wendybird !! â silence. childish boys turned their heads to their leader, looking at him full of expectation â clueless themselves as to what reaction exactly they were expecting. legends had it that peter pan had never turned down a dare in his life, that every lost boy who was not brave enough to follow a dare did not deserve the title of being a â lost boy â, that he had banished some of them before because theyâd shown the fear in their heart at the proposition that had been made. no one had ever dared however, to make a dare as bold as slightly had just now.
 Peter huffed, the stern and intimidating gaze he only ever had when being in the role of the leader, wandering through the group of boys and keeping their mouths effectively shut â no cheering on, no childish peer pressuring, not a single noise, not even from wendy. briefly peterâs eyes flickered to his little bird, frowning at her as he wondered whether the lack of protest was because she knew the stories too, because she although not standing under his command the same way the boys did, did still not want to speak up to the leader or whether she would perhaps not mind being kissed by him, but that was silly⌠wasnât it?
  â Itâs not against the rules, â slightly said, a grin spreading over his lips,â you made those about tink, remember? when tootles got just a little too close to her. â from the corner of his eyes peter noticed said boy sink a little lower in his seat, hiding from the memory of peter panâs wrath that had hit him. naturally, after that incident none of the lost boys had dared to approach tink again and when the darlings had joined the adventures of the lost boys, itâd gone without saying that wendy was not to be approached with intentions other than finding a friend in her, because all of them knew the second in command was her brother and even more deterring, all of them knew sheâd gained a special place in their leaderâs heart.
  â You canât talk yourself out of this, pan. â and peter was furious. he didnât know whose idea it had been to play â truth or dare â but he was going to find out and he was going to banish the bilge rat for at least a week, probably two, maybe forever. because a kiss was something special ( or it was at least what he had understood from the way wendy had explained it to him once ), and he did not want to waste their first kiss â after heâd already been forced to give up on being her first kiss â on a dare.
  Peter smiled, and when he looked like this he perhaps was the most terrifying for a mischievous boy with a charming smile never meant any good. â call me a codfish, â he said, his voice lacking all emotions as he stood before the fire, daring just one of the boys to raise their voice against him. â but peter pan â â and his eyes wandered over his boys, â â and any lost boy with just a spark of honour, doesnât just kiss a girl without her consent and we do not force it upon her with a scabrous dare. i wonât do it. â he looked at slightly, gaze full of ire as his hand came to rest upon the pocket knife bound to his belt. â and if any of you wish to denounce my decision, he shall step in front of me and prepare to fight. â
⥠to drunkenly confess feelings to her
 â Wendy? â her name left his lips in no more than a whisper, confusion lacing into his voice as he tried with all his stubborn might to concentrate on her face hovering in front of his own. it wasnât surprising to see her; being in the darling household, but he was surprised to see her awake at this hour. the lost boys had celebrated â nothing in particular because life itself was worth celebrating â but in a moment peter couldnât quite recall anymore one of his boys had joined their feast with drinks and everything went downhill from there. now, peter pan was the leader of the lost boys, and although they had started as no more than a ragtag group of misfits, heâd already been proud of his title then and over a century later, he was still aware of the responsibilities which came with it. so when john didnât seem like he could make it home on his own, peter was the one who brought him there. the only problem? peter may have had a drink or two too much himself â but youâre a leader before youâre drunk.
  Theyâd probably not been very quiet, peter suddenly thought, and by the way wendyâs face became a blur one moment, turning away from him to call for someone and she was tugging him to his feet in the next, he had a feeling his assumption was right. maybe heâd woken up their father? oh god. â i should leave, â he mumbled as she pushed him as gentle as his little bird was and yet with an urgent need from the hallway into her room. he did not want to find out what her fatherâs reaction was to peter pan being back ( if the man did not know already ), to peter pan being back in wendyâs room too and having gotten their low-lying middle-child to drink. peter swayed a little, feeling the warmth of wendyâs fingers wrap around his upper arm immediately to support him and to stop him from marching towards the window in his drunken state. he couldâve started a discussion right there and then, couldâve freed himself off her grasp and disappear right out of the room. he couldâve.
 Instead, he just stopped, eyes pressing shut and his jaw clenching â suffering through a wave of emotions he did not or maybe just stubbornly did not want to understand. âpeter..? â the worried whispering of his name was the first of her words which made it through to him and it was so understanding and sympathetic as though she could see the struggle on his face. perhaps she could. perhaps she led him to sit on her bed and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a comforting embrace because she knew of the pure an utter confusion his heart was going through. peter â no longer in the role of the leader, having felt his strong and proud and confident appearance falter for weeks, maybe months already â buried his face in the crook of her arm, hiding all the emotions heâd never wanted to feel.
  â âm sorry, â the words broke out of him in a whisper; an apology which ought not to be heard because peter pan never apologised â itâd mean he regretted something and he always made a point that he didnâtâ but he knew she heard anyway. he could feel that she was already shaking her head at him in an attempt to tell him him being drunk wasnât all that bad, that she did not mind taking care of him, especially not after heâd taken care of her brother â but peter had not meant right now. â i ââ he didnât know how to say it or what he wanted to say exactly. he knew he wasnât upset about leaving, and it had not been his decision to go without her, he did not regret staying away from barrie and her and everyone for six months but it haunted him nonetheless. â â just â â his arms wrapped around her middle, pulling her closer towards him in an attempt to calm the heavy sea his mind but also her room seemed to be surfing on. he felt like he couldnât talk, like english had suddenly become this complicated tongue-twisting language which was foreign to him. why couldnât he understand these things?! â â miss you. â he mumbled, and it sounded ridiculous, because she was sitting right in front of him and he missed her still.
  â Is it ever going to stop? â and maybe he meant him missing her or the terrible ache in his heart which did not want to leave him, or maybe it was just the fact that the room had still not stopped spinning âbut to none of it he could see the end, he couldnât even imagine it, because these six months existed and he could not dream them away. it wasnât written in stone, it wasnât even written on paper and perhaps that was the worst about it: the emptiness in the drawer wendy stored her writings in; six months worth of emptiness, was somehow suffocating. â itâs a pirate ship. â he knew he didnât make any sense to her, but emotions were so confusing to him that he never spoke about them and the alcohol that loosened his tongue did not help make him speak clearer, it just made him speak.
  But he was right, wasnât he? because pirate ships could float above the sea, even if the cargo bay had filled to an extent with water. it just slowed, it sank a little lower, and that in all its metaphorical sense was how peter felt. â thatâs the worst. â he lifted his head, struggling almost as it seemed to weigh a ton, and he looked at her â not like a child, not like a leader, not like the infamous peter pan, but a boy whoâd at last been forced to realise that adventures didnât manage to solve everything, that knifes and swords were not the worst ways to hurt someone, that hurting sometimes just hurt without mercy and without a way of ignoring everything. â to think where we wouldâve been if i had stayed â â he smiled, a weak one but a smile nonetheless, â â if you had come with me.â but all the plans he had had with her had vanished into non-existence. âthe adventures we wouldâve had together !! â he didnât quite know how, but he suddenly had his hands resting on her neck, his thumbs brushing softly against the skin of her cheeks and the urge to kiss her tingled once more in the back of his head. he couldnât, of course, but what an adventure that would be.
  â Wendy, i â â he couldnât finish, because he just couldnât, but also because suddenly the door flew open and the father of the darlings stood in the frame, face a fuming red and a drunkenly swaying john grabbed by the stacking swivel. peter was on his feet immediately, stumbling more than gracefully swinging himself out of wendyâs window and disappearing just as the sun started to rise and ended the night in the most peter pan fashion.
  It was one of the nights which had started with the darling parents telling their three children they would be back by noon on the next day, which had then quickly shifted into the brothers disappearing to their friends and their missing presence being replaced by peter pan swinging himself through his little birdâs window, even though he couldâve easily taken the way through the front door now.
  There had been no adventures, no new stories to be told and even though it seemed undoubtedly like one of the most boring nights wendy and peter spent together, it was one that they needed â losing time out of sight as if it did not exist, as if the six months between them did no longer exist. it was nice. movies filled the silence in which neither of them talked, first one wendy chose because she liked the story, then peter entirely unbothered picked one because the cover was pretty, and eventually they became nothing more than background noises to the two spending time together.
  Peterâs eyes were stuck to the television, the movie long haven gotten out of focus and mere splashes of colour moving in front of his eyes as his mind wandered to everywhere else. â how late is it? â he wondered, but did not get an answer from the girl sitting next to him. maybe heâd not actually said it out aloud? he genuinely was not sure. he was so tired.
  â Wendy? â now, he had definitely said something, and though it took all his sleepy energy to move he managed to blink his way back into the darlingâs living room, turning his head to look at his little bird. she was sleeping, sinking lower and lower into the couch, and peter smiled softly â the kind of smile that was not meant for anyone to be seen, but just happened because he was convinced there could not be a lovelier sight than wendy darling in a peaceful sleep, dreaming of things he could probably not even imagine.
  Carefully, peter moved to reach for a blanket and cover her, eyes already searching the closest pillow when the girl herself found something to rest her head upon â him. cuddling closer she leaned against him, stealing some of his warmth and comfort, and a part of peter wanted to pull away, to disappear entirely perhaps and flee from all affection and the awkward situation of her waking up while still cuddled up to him, but the bigger part and the heart which was beating so rapidly against his chest now that he was surprised she did not wake up from the sound, had him lift his around her and lower his head to lean against hers.
 â Can you hear me? â he whispered quietly and when he got no response at all, not even the slightest of movements, he wondered if now was the moment to tell her, the one moment heâd dare speak his thoughts aloud â but he remained silent and the moment passed and with a sigh peter closed his eyes, and maybe that was it. maybe he would never again get a chance to say something.
