peter never understood why wendy wanted to grow up.

why she had to leave the bliss of neverland and the company of the lost boys.

why she had to leave him.

he never understood why she dreamed of a little cottage by the riverside where she'd bake pumpkin pies for her little ones and the love of her life.

why'd she ever give up the joy of flying by his side, mischieving pirates and chasing a never setting sun.

wendy had always been someone who wanted to tell stories.

and peter...

he was one who chose to dwell in them.

perhaps because he could never accept the fate of his own reality.

" tell be about that story again. the one about that funny emperor. " he says, curling up into a ball by my side.

i found myself chuckling at that.

some boys never grow up. peter surely hasn't.

brushing the dishevelled cluster on his head, i untangled a few knots.

" you can't keep coming back here demanding for foolish tales, peter. "

he leans into my touch.

" then, what other reasons could i use to visit you? "

what a charmer, this boy.

appearing so suddenly and leaving so swiftly.

poor wendy must've spent her whole life searching for glimpses of him.

" i can't be in your world, silly boy, " his warm fingers clenched my hand, moulding together as if we were one. i squeezed to make sure he was still there.

" i can't escape my problems and find solace in a faraway land. "

" why not? " his voice rose as he sat up.

was he throwing a tantrum?

" you said this place never felt like home anyway! "

a red blush stained his cheeks and the tip of his nose. it would've been an adorable sight if his eyebrows weren't furrowed and his bottom lip wasn't jutting out like a temperamental child.

" perhaps not, " i fell back onto the hard mattress. " but home surely isn't in your arms every night either. "

i am no wendy but i will surely try.

i'll resist the charms of the iridescent eyed boy with all my might.

© daphne