Counting Scars - OUAT

Love

IMPORTANT A/N: I would really appreciate you all to read my new fantasy story, Ocean's Dominance. I know, currently, over 200 of you have read this far. If you like this, you'll like the other story. Please help me get it somewhere, please give me feedback,but also know that I appreciate all of you. And if you ever want me to read your stories and give feedback, feel free to message me and ask!

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"Yes, I love Peter's dark side, but I do not love you," I admitted.

Pan furrowed his brows, "why not?"

I sigh, stepping away from him and crossing my arms. "Because demons don't love, it won't be real." I look into his eyes, my fists clenching. "And you will never be like Peter!"

"Yes, but is Peter still the same?" He questioned with a demonic grin.

He grinned that way because he knows that I realized he was right.

This was Peter's worst version of himself. My eyes were laying on a boy that wanted blood to spill, a boy who wanted power and smell the scent of death around him.

"Love," I whispered. "You need love."

Pan raises a brow, "what?"

I smile, caressing his cheek with my hand. "I'll love you."

He smiles, his face leaning closer to me and closing his eyes. I lean in, but instead of planting a kiss on his lips, I quickly grab his dagger and stab him in his stomach and sprint away from him.

Pan screams, lurching forward to his knees and pulling out the dagger making his hands get covered in blood.

I ran as fast as I could, luckily finding a familiar path, but I knew he would be after me.

Once I reached camp, I darted into Peter's tent where he laid wincing with his hand over a deep wound.

Without saying anything, I placed my hand over the stab mark and focused on healing it.

"Wait..." Peter said, wincing. "What happened?"

I run my fingers through his hair, something that soothed him. "I ran into the demon, don't worry, you are safe."

"I am not concerned of my safety," he says. "I'm concerned about you."

Maybe I should of been smiling, but I couldn't. I also couldn't help but worry about the time I had left. Peter was too thin, plum colored circles around his eyes had formed, and his eyelids would only open halfway.

"Oh Peter, you look awful," I said with tears forming in my eyes.

He smirks, shaking his head. "Winter, that's impossible. I always looks amazing."

"Are you being sarcastic?" I questioned, my lips turning upwards.

"Nope."

I giggle while he simply stares at me with a confused look painted across his face. "Even at the verge of death, you still manage to be arrogant and cocky."

Peter shrugs weakly and slowly sits up while watching the stab wound finish healing. He continues to stare even after the wound and blood had disappeared. His face plastered with a sorrowful and guilty face while his eyes were glossed with regret.