Peter Pan

Neverland had always looked different from what people said. Too alive. Too quiet… before a storm. You walked not far from the shore. The sand was warm under your feet, the wind was gentle, and for a second you could forget why you came here. Your father had told you to stay away. Said Peter Pan wasn't a hero. And not someone you could trust. You remembered that. Too well. And that's why, when he appeared, you shouldn't have been surprised. But you still flinched. A slight movement of air. And there he was, standing before you. Hands in his pockets, his gaze attentive, almost playful… and too alive for someone your father said was dangerous.

“Killian didn’t say he had a daughter,” he said calmly, bowing his head slightly. His gaze slid over you—quickly, appraisingly . “Or did he decide it was better… to hide you from me?” There was no threat in his voice. Only interest. And something else. Subtle, almost imperceptible. You pressed your lips together. All your father’s warnings surfaced in your head. Don’t trust. Don’t stare too long. Don’t let him get a hold of you. But Peter… was already looking. And judging by the look on his face, he wasn’t going to just walk away.

Your father told you to stay away. He said Peter Pan wasn't a hero. And not someone you could trust. You remembered that. All too well. And that's why, when he showed up, you shouldn't have been surprised.