• Peter’s POV

    A solitary tear slid down Wendy’s rose-colored cheek as her hands writhed uncomfortably. As it fell towards the ground in slow motion, a deep sense of regret gathered in the pit of my stomach.

    “Are you sure you can’t stay?” She asked, her voice barely audible amongst the commotion taking place behind her. My heart tore as I saw my friends, my brothers, hugging and kissing their new mother and father, completely oblivious to Wendy and me.

    I hovered outside the window, my chest aching. I wanted nothing more than to stay with Wendy, to stare into her eyes longingly each night before we rested out heads on our pillows, to be the first one to greet her when the morning light filtered into the nursery. If I went back to Neverland, I would be alone.

    Like Hook.

    I looked over at Wendy’s father, curiosity coursing through my veins. If I stayed, I would turn into him; crisp, clean cut, educated. My stomach churned at the very thought.

    Wendy’s eyes glistened in the moonlight as the brisk winter air lightly snaked through her golden brown locks.

    I shut my eyes, allowing the late October breeze to n** at my exposed shoulders. I shivered.

    The words refused to escape my lips. They were stuck in my throat, closing my windpipe.

    “Please,” She begged. I opened my eyes

    “In order for me to stay,” I said, a small smile playing across my boyish lips as I retreated a bit. “You’ll have to catch me first.”

    Something glinted in her tearful eyes. Fear?

    “Oh, Peter.” She shoved her face in her hands, refusing to look up. “I could never catch you.”

    My heart throbbed painfully as it was torn in two. I can’t leave Wendy without being alone and I can’t stay without growing up.

    It was time to make a decision.

    I flew over to Wendy, my heart furiously beating within my chest. I took her hands away from her face, cradling them in my own. She looked up at me, her eyes red and puffy, still glistening with tears.

    I leaned in closer, our lips brushing slightly.

    “Tag,” I whispered. “I’m it.”