The Devil's Game

Acceptance

That night I cuddled into Peter's chest, his arms wrapped securely around me listening to his heart beat in his chest. The position was comforting. The soft breath on my hair made me feel secure. Lifting my head up to take in his features, I focused on them with a new found curiosity. In all of the time we had spent together in the past months I hadn't taken the time to properly examine his features. Peter is quite gorgeous. Soft deep blonde hair dusted across his forehead, eyebrows set low over his eyes making him look mischievous even in sleep. I reached up to drift a finger softly over his relaxed mouth, something I rarely see. It is either down turned in concentration or distaste, or upturned in mischief and mockery. Something about seeing him so peaceful was almost unsettling.
I suddenly had the urge to explore outside the room. Slipping from his arm quietly I grabbed the cloak he had set on the chair next to the desk, wrapping it around my shoulders to keep the excess chill out of my bones. Turning back to Peter I noticed him still sleeping soundly. Before I would have taken off for the hills and never looked back hoping to escape him, but now that holds no appeal. Continuing forward I exited the inside of the tree room only a small balcony that led to a ladder. I sat myself on the ledge, gazing out over the forest. Before it had seemed deep, foreboding and endless, but those had all faded away to a feeling of calming familiarity. The scent of pine needles hung heavy in the air, but hidden just behind that was the soft salty scent of the ocean.
The ocean. I missed the ocean. The calming rolling of the waves, the salty air and mist on your face, but most of all the enticing mystery of what lay in the vast depths below. I needed to be closer to it. I knew that if I asked Peter in the morning he would take me, but I wanted to do something by myself, I needed to. He would be angry if he woke up and I was gone, but that was a risk I was willing to take for a few hours of listening to the crashing waves in the calm hours of night while everyone else slept. Standing up I walked back in to leave a note on the desk of where I had gone. Hopefully if I timed things right I'd be back before he even knew I was gone.
Grabbing the bow and quiver from the side of the desk I slipped down the latter and into the forest with quiet precision. I didn't know the way to the beach, but I let muscle memory and scent guide me. The trees swayed in the slight breeze, the creaking of branches reminded me of the forest where I grew up. Dashing through the trees with my father hot on my heels and a belly laugh emanating from my throat. I realized how long it had been since I laughed. The last time I'd laughed was the day before Peter took me. Standing with Killian on the deck of the Jolly Rodger, white powder from a pastry I had actually bought and not stolen from a bakery all over his face. He looked like a little kid, I laughed ruffling his hair and dusted it off for him. The memory should have brought a smile to my face, but the muscles felt useless and broken. I actively tried to smile, but it refused to move in the slightest. Shaking my head and brushing off the uneasy feeling it brought, I continued through the forest. My mind however refused to stop wondering. The thought of Killian wouldn't leave my mind. The memories of him were pleasant ones, but they were stained with an unshakable sense of melancholy. Even the pleasantness felt distant, like I was viewing the emotions through a looking glass.
I no longer had delusional fantasies of Killian coming to rescue me, I knew that by now he would have given up. We may have been friends but there is only so much you  are willing to do for a friend. But that thought didn't make me angry; the idea of him leaving me here with Peter. Honestly, even if Killain showed up, I'm not sure I would want to leave Peter. I will always miss Killian deep down, but the mourning stages were coming to an end. Killian was a pleasant memory to be locked in a box, now I was with Peter. I wanted Killian to be happy; to ride the sea like he had before I came, and smile like he did when I was there.
I was brought abruptly out of my train of thought by the forest coming to an end, my trek had been worthwhile as I broke out onto the beach. The crashing of the waves was consistent and comforting. I stripped off my boots and socks so that my feet could dig freely into the soft sand belowI closed my eyes, feeling the rhythm of the water penetrate into my being. The stress from the past months bleeding out of me, carried away by the wind. A sense of freedom began to infiltrate my bones, and like an infectious disease it spread through my whole body until I could no longer contain the urge to take off running. Allowing my legs to carry me, I took off down the beach. I spread my arms wide feeling as if I could take off from the ground and fly high into the sky.
The feeling was addicting, but rapidly was cut short by my out of shape body forcing me to stop. Breathing heavily I collapsed to the ground, my entire body filled with euphoria. For the moment there were no intrusive thoughts agitating my mind. I was able to simply be present in the moment.
It felt as if only minutes had passed but the first glimmers of light began to dust the horizon. My stomach dropped. Peter would be awake soon and that would bring with it a storm of rage. Panicking internally I scrambled to my feet and took off in the direction of what I hoped was the camp.