It’s just Peter Pan. The boy that’s been coming to my bedroom randomly for about three to four years now. The boy that says whatever comes to his mind and is so conceited, there is no way he could think of anyone before himself. All he’s saying is just typical Peter babble.

Then why is it affecting me differently than it ever has before?

“I have something for you,” he says randomly as he stops playing and abruptly drops to one knee.

My eyes grow wide. He’s played around like this before. Everything is a game with Peter. What’s more, he believes all games are real. But the sight of him on one knee does something to me that it shouldn’t. That it hasn’t before any time we’ve played around like this.

Holding out his hand, his fist clenches tight and he smiles. “Guess what it is.”

My mouth is too dry to speak, so I just shake my head no.

“Come on, Wendy,” he rolls his eyes impatiently. “Guess.”

“I’m not good at guessing.”

“Just try, please, for me.” He gives me a smirk that almost makes me drop to my knees, so I concede.

“A thimble,” I say, but he just laughs, so I try again. “Pixie dust.” He glances over his shoulder for Tinker Bell, almost as if he’s nervous. When he looks back my way he shakes his head no, scrunching up his nose and closing his eyes in disgust. When they open again, they’re even more impatient than before. “Um,” I stammer. ‘“I told you I wasn’t good at this, let me see. A… a mermaid.”

“Wendy,” Peter laughs. “A mermaid wouldn’t fit in my hand.”

Delighted with his joke, he stands and takes a step towards me. Reaching out, he takes my hand in his and opens his palm. I try to focus on what he’s trying to give me in the dark, but I can’t tell exactly what it is until he slips it into my hand and pulls me a step forward into the moonlight cascading through the window.

An acorn button. My heart skips a beat. Our first kiss. A playful one when I was just a kid. I look back up at him quickly, but his eyes are still trained on my palm as he gently rolls the button around, amusement still dancing in his eyes.

“What… why?” I ask.

“So you never forget me, Wendy. So you always know, one day I’ll come back.”

He walks away and a piece of my heart forever goes with him. Just like that I know, I will always wait for him. Regardless of if he tells me to or not, I could never stop wishing, and hoping, that he might fly through my window.