NEVERLAND ✧ Louis Partridge

3 | Blue Dress

THAT GIF IS SO CREEPY AHHHHH

Y/N

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"NO," I said, shaking my head, "absolutely not."

Louis had his hand still outstretched towards me, as if he was still trying to drag me off to that island tucked away in the second star to the right.

I wasn't sure if he was aware of it, but even though he may have been a fictional character brought to life, I was not. I grew up in a society where strangers are dangerous, and flying boys dressed in green are not things of the 'daily'.

"No?" Louis mumbled, snatching his hand back, "what?"

I blinked, "I don't know you."

"Why does that matter?"

"Because you could be trying to kill me," I stated, walking back to my bed, "now please get out of my room before I get my Mother up here."

It would be ridiculous to just ditch earth to go to some made up land, as much as I hated it here. I had a family (well, only a mother, but still). And flying did not obey the laws of physics, so it would be generally impossible for me to even hop my way there.

Louis still didn't seem to care.

"You mother?" He grinned, "I don't think she'd care that I'm here."

I squinted my eyes suspiciously, "and why not?"

"Didn't she suggest this to you in the first place?"

I opened my mouth to shut down another one of his invitations, but stopped myself. How did he know about what my mother said? Why did my mother say it? Did he know my mother?

I'm starting to sense a theme at the moment, and that theme is confusion. I've been asking myself too many questions that I already know I don't have the answer to.

"How did you know that?" I said, taking a cautious step back, "are you spying on me?"

Louis exhaled, ruffling his hand through his hair, "no, I am not."

"Then how did you know?"

"Because she asked."

I paused again. My mother asked. I would have called that ridiculous, but the image of our previous conversation popped up into my mind.

She was the one who suggested Peter Pan, she's the one that made that face while talking about it, and she's the one who told me books were like getting a glimpse of someone else's life.

What the f—

"You don't know who your mom is," Louis said, cutting my thoughts off, "do you?"

I scoffed lightly, "why wouldn't I know who my own mother is?"

"Do you know anything about her childhood?"

"I haven't felt the need to inquire about it."

Louis floated back up towards the ceiling, his arms crossed against his chest. He definitely knew something I didn't. He was conniving, sly, and just as smirky as the Cheshire Cat from Alice In Wonderland.

"This Wendy you speak of," the boy said, scratching the bottom of his chin, "did she happen to have two brothers?"

I nodded my head, "John and Micheal."

"Did she wear a blue dress?"

"Her nightgown, yes."

"Well I don't know Wendy," he said, drifting back to the ground, "but I do know your Mother."

I blinked, not sure if I heard him correctly. Was he implying that my mother knew him?

"I'm confused," I said, waving my hands in front of my face, "I don't understand what's going on."

"Simple," Louis shrugged, "your fairytale? It had to have been based off of something, has it not?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Well now you do."

"Are you saying you kissed my Mother?!" I exclaimed, snatching up a pillow and chucking it at his face.

Dodging it, Louis let out a laugh.

"I don't get romantically involved with my friends," he explained, "every story is romanticised now and then, I guess that's what they did for your Peter Pan bit, but I assure you none of it was my reality."

I paused for a moment, "so why are you here, then?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you back for her?"

"No," he said, holding his hand out again, "I'm here for you."

Let me press pause on this whole situation.

I just need a moment to think.

This certainly matched up with everything my Mother had done earlier that day, and it matched up with the confusing fact of why she never told me much about her past. But... why had she never told me this?

Maybe she thought I'd think she was crazy (don't get me wrong, I would have definitely thought that), but now I can clearly see none of it was.

"So?" the boy asked, snapping me out of my thoughts again, "will you come with?"

Now that I knew more about it, I suddenly felt more at ease with the thought of escaping Earth for a while.

Maybe just a few hours at most. That couldn't hurt.

"Fine," I huffed, walking over to him and shaking his hand, "let's do it."