𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐚 (𝐢𝐢𝐢) | ✔

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝒙𝒊. 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧
━━ 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅

     "Are you okay?" Thomas's voice broke Reagan's thoughts. "Honestly, is there something wrong?"

     Of course there was. It had been a week since Reagan's sleepover at the Pevensies' and she was well aware that she had been distracted the whole week. However, she could not explain exactly why. The only thing she knew was that she should not be. She had talked with Thomas as soon as she returned home the next morning and confessed to him that Edmund and her had actually "dated" some years ago, although it had been nothing serious. He did not mind. He told Reagan that he trusted her and that he knew that she was with him for a reason, so it was no using worrying.

     Reagan, notwithstanding, worried. And she worried a lot because she could not forget how she had looked into Edmund's eyes that night. At first, she had attributed it to the fact that he made her feel at home, he made her feel that everything was alright. He had always done so, no matter whether they had to fight a giant sea monster or duel with an army of Telmarines. However, when that memory did not leave her mind after a week, she began to fret.

     "Yes, everything's alright," she smiled with her lips closed. "What are you doing?"

     "Oh, look," he smiled, unaware of Reagan's desperate attempt to change topics. He turned around the paper he was looking at and showed it to the girl, "we are doing this amazing thing in class in which our professor gives us the medical profile of a person and we have to say how we would treat him."

     Reagan's eyes travelled to Thomas's smile, a smile that she used to lose herself in and that she missed whenever he was not around. Now, however, she felt as if she had grown accustomed to it, as much as she dreaded it.

      "That's amazing, Tom," she kept her smile, reading the paper even if she didn't understand a single thing. Her sight returned to the book in front of her, one that she was supposed to have finished days ago. 

     "How is the book?"

     "Oh," she muttered, realising that she had not understood a single thing from the last five pages. "It's great. It is about this little orfan boy who gets mixed up with the wrong sort of crowd."

     A knock on the door interrupted their conversation, which Reagan took as opportunity to get up and clear her mind. Upon opening, she came face to face with the blond man she loved so dearly. 

     "Peter," she smiled, letting her teeth shine, "what are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

     "Everything's okay, little Re. I came to say goodbye, I have to return earlier than expected."

     The girl threw her arms around Peter's neck and buried her head in the crook of his neck as he picked her up, "I'm going to miss you so much, you have no idea. Please come back soon."

     She felt like crying and she did not know why. Sure, she loved Peter as a sister loves her brother but they were not the closest. Still, Reagan could not hep it and tears began falling from her eyes, staining Peter's soft blue shirt. 

     Peter put her down and, after wiping her tears, promised to visit them again soon and walked down the corridor. The girl, on her part, slowly walked back to the table in which she had been studying with Thomas. However, seeing that she was completely unable to concentrate, he position himself behind her and began rubbing her shoulders, which made Reagan smile softly.

     "Come on, talk to me," he pleaded, with a tinge of desperation in his voice, "I know something is up."

     "I'm just tired, Tom," she excused herself. "I think I'm going to lie down for a bit."

     The boy nodded and, when Reagan stood up, he followed suit and got in bed with her, softly caressing her stomach and waist. She turned around and stared into his eyes, but something was missing. He did not have the golden specks that reminded her of the stars so much nor the long lashes that she used to envy. It took her a while but, finally, she managed to get asleep.

     She dreamt with waves and swords, with constellations and fairies. And with lips dancing on her own.