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━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━
WAKING UP from sleeping spells had never been Kaelyn's favourite thing, but given the context this time was even worse than usual. As control and consciousness spread back into her body, the brunette woke with her blood boiling and energy simmering at her fingertips. She forced her eyes open, pushing through the cloudy residue of the spell, until she felt it disperse, and she woke as suddenly as if she'd been dumped in cold water.
She blinked rapidly to assess where she was, and realised she was home. Kaelyn's face fell, as the covers hugged her body and her face rested against the pillows she'd once spent every night with next to Peter. It was foolish to let herself feel homely in the treehouse, but she couldn't help it. She slipped out of the covers, noticing her shoes had been removed so she was more comfortable to rest. She wasn't sure how much time had passed since she'd been put to sleep.
Kaelyn took a moment to steady herself on her feet, before she drank in the sight of the room, properly. So many memories in such a small space, that now only caused her so much pain. Like so many things on the island, yet something about the treehouse struck her the most.
The many days she had returned here, laughing, falling into bed with Peter while their room glistened with trinkets and collected memories of their adventures and travels. The stones on the window sill they had kept as their best skimming rocks, her jewellery she had stolen with him as a child, anything in the room was a memory. It was a collected representation of their life together before everything had changed and twisted.
Kaelyn swallowed thickly as she felt the presence, and slowly turned to see Peter now seated on the edge of the bed, watching her look around. Her fingers twitched, her eyes narrowed, as she recalled the last time she'd seen his face, flickering into view as he'd incapacitated her, taken her control from her, taken Neal away. While Kaelyn crackled with anger, Peter only looked at her curiously, as neither made a move to do or say anything.
"Did you mean it?" Peter asked, breaking the tense silence.
"Mean what?" Kaelyn hissed.
"You hate me."
Kaelyn blinked, regarding the blonde boy and his soft tone, recalling her final words before she'd been forced to fall asleep in his arms. She tilted her head, giving him a stony look. "Where's Neal?" she asked, instead. Her fingers twisted at her side, indigo dancing around them, Peter's eyes flicking down to look at them briefly.
"He's fine," Peter said, firmly.
"Not the question," Kaelyn snipped.
Peter shook his head with a satisfied smirk, pushing himself to his feet and slowly coming to stand in front of Kaelyn. "You didn't answer mine, either," he said, lowly, looking down his nose at her.
