“It wasn’t supposed to be.”

“But now, that’s not necessarily true, is it?” he hisses.

His hands raise and grip my hips. They’re tight enough to let me know the pain he’s feeling, but not harsh enough to bruise me.

“Peter… I….”

“It hurts,” he confesses in sharp agony as he sucks in a breath.

I inhale a deep breath of my own, waiting for him to go on, and holding it in until it burns. I know all too well the pain he’s talking about. His head falls against the back of my own. His hands circle my waist, pulling me tight into his frame.

“I can’t breathe without you, Wendy.” He sucks in another sharp breath; his body shakes, as if he’s on the verge of tears before a dark laugh escapes his lips a moment later. Crushing my body against his, his face falls to the crook of my neck, anger fuels his touch as he grits out, “You’ve become the air I need to survive.”

Letting go of the breath I was holding, I turn in his arms slowly. My hands tenderly rise to frame his face. His eyes are closed. His brow is furrowed as he lets out a shaky breath. I study him for a moment and my heart bleeds for him. For us. Suddenly, he takes one final step forward and quickly backs me up against the wall.

“You’ve always been the air I need, Peter,” I confess. I know I’ve told him that before, but I feel compelled to remind him now. His eyes open and my heart breaks as I watch them water with unshed tears.

“You’ve been a part of me so long, I don’t know how to live without you,” his own confession is like salt on a wound. It’s a desperate plea. One I’m not sure I can answer.

“You don’t have to,” I say instantly, trying to think up any way I can make our world right once again. “You can come back here. Sit on the edge of my bed. Listen to the stories. Play your music for me, and…”

His sad smile causes me to stop talking. Shaking his head, a lone tear falls down his right cheek. “It would never be enough,” he whispers. “Not after I’ve had a taste of you in my world, Wendy. It could never. Be. Enough.”

His head falls against mine and I grab a hold of him tightly, clutching him to me as if my life depends on him. As if our life together depends on us. 

“Peter,” I whisper. “I told you once I wanted to give myself to you.” I don’t know where these words are coming from as they tumble out of my mouth freely. “But the truth is, you’ve always had me. You’ll always have me. Whether it's here, or in Neverland, it’s just…”