VICIOUS (II) : peter pan ouat

How to Choose

Chapter 18

    We're in his room when I feel myself. The terrible feeling that accompanies teleportation doesn't reach me, instead I feel a pit in my stomach. Peter hasn't said anything since he saw me.

    He stands across from me. His green eyes wide, his coral lips agape. He doesn't say anything.

    I kiss him, and he pulls me in. Our mouths move together, not daring to give a second to think.

    A million questions erased from my eyes. It's just me and him together. Whatever is happening and has happened can wait. The world can wait for us.

    He buries his hands in my hair, and I rake my fingers down his back. The fabric may be old, but it's soft. He's soft. Cozy like a blanket, not like Pan. Like Peter.

    I pull him closer to me, tightening my grip around him. He doesn't let me go.

    He leans away first, looking at me.

    "You died."

    The words surprise me. You died. It's not normally a sentence you tell someone, but I've heard it a few times since I've been on Neverland. Jared died, only he didn't. Rufio died, only he didn't. My Mom died, and though I have seen her before that much is true.

    I didn't die. You don't come back from death.

    I take the seconds I have, letting my arms fall off his, to rip off the grass from my cloak. I let it stay in my shoes, mainly because I don't want to bend over and be awkward.

    "I don't think I did." The laugh that escapes my lips surprises me.

    He laughs back. "Obviously not."

    I don't know where to go from here. The damn holding back my questions opens and my mind is flooded. My voice drowns in them, as I try to sort through what I should ask him.

    "Was my funeral decent?"

    That was not the question to ask first. I'm an idiot.

    He shrugs. "We couldn't find your body, so there was no barge. You have a grave now, I'll get one of the boys-"

    "Don't bother, I'll die soon enough."

    He cocks an eyebrow, before cracking a grin. "Sure."

    "What were you doing back there?" I ask.

    I sit down on his puffy bed, and he sits next to me. His shoulder pressed against mine, he sighs.

    "Well, we were going to attack the Natives." He answers. "Alex went to find Inali, and Inali told him what happened with you and Walela and-"

    "I didn't kill her, did I?" I ask.

    He scoffs. "No, if you had we'd already be at war. She just got hurt. Badly. Obviously I don't know the full extent of it. It's not like I care."

    "I do." I answers.

    He looks at me, puzzled. "Since when did a little murder bother you?"

    What kind of question is that? Of course murder bothers me, nevermind if it's a little. Sure, I don't care about the people I killed before, but that's because they were fighting me at the time.

    I lift myself off the bed, standing in front of him. "It's not the murder, just trust me."

    He stands up, peering down just over top of me. "Then what is it exactly."