Memories of that night in the forest, the night I almost fucked her against her will, hang heavy in my mind. Weigh even heavier on my heart as I stare out across the room, my gaze fixated on nothing as my mind rolls anxiously. Yes, a part of her was very willing that night. But it never would have felt right. Never would have felt like I had all of her. There was a part of her closed off, and for damn good reason. So, I waited, much like I feel the need to wait her out now.

There is so much she doesn’t know. So many questions I have. Still, what is absolutely undeniable after all this time, is how much we both want each other. How much we both need each other. Denying it is only fueling a fire that’s soon to combust if we aren’t diligent to talk first. When that match is finally lit, this time, I know it’ll be our ruin if I can’t make her finally understand the truth. A truth I am just now realizing myself.

Maybe I’m not as lost as I thought.

Maybe, considering Wendy, I never was.

“I want more,” her soft voice finally cries. My back stiffens but I don’t allow myself to turn her way. “Of you... I’ve always wanted more. It’s the one thing you’ve never given me.” Wrong. She’s so wrong. “You’ve always left me waiting, until one day it was too late.”

Against my better judgment, I spin around and meet her stare. I open my mouth to speak, but she beats me to it. Years of her pent-up frustration is finally unleashing.

“Even then,” her eyes darken, her jaw sets tight, tears fall down her cheeks as I hang on her words, “I waited. I fucking waited.”

“Wendy…” she stands abruptly, her chair falling to the floor behind her, and I startle.

“You were all I had, Peter,” this time when she says my name, calls me Peter instead of Pan, I realize I don’t flinch. This time, it fucking does something to my heart that I can’t stop. It makes it beat again. Harder, faster, as the pull that was always there between us spins out of control.

Unable to speak at first, I finally manage in a whisper, “You were all I had too, Darling.”

“Bullshit!”

“That seems to be your favorite word,” I scowl, my shoulders tensing as she rounds the side of the table and takes a step in my direction. “Maybe you want to elaborate?”

“You had Neverland,” she takes a heated step closer. “The lost boys.” Another step. “The mermaids. Indians. Your beloved Cannibal Cove. Mystic Mountain. Tinker Bell!” On the last one I flinch. “Hell, when it finally all fell apart, you even kept John! You’re selfish!” she screams, taking one last step towards me.