Peter Pan & Robbie Kay Imagines

absolute cheese

Robbies P.O.V

Y/N to be specific. I was enticed by her, the way she moved so elgantly. The beautiful smile that was laced with mischief a cheeky purpose. Her brunnete hair that had strands of gold through out.

I first saw her two years ago, we were sat a few seats apart, the same row amogst the hundred - listening to a speech by our new teacher, our teachers voice was loud and enthusiastic but I couldnt hear her over the sound of my drumming heartbeat.
Her hair was down that day, she constantly tucked the same relentless tendril of hair behind her right ear. Slapping her hands against her thighs when she was excited.

I never realised the impact she would have on me, how much I would think about her, or aspire to be everything she wanted.
Y/N had this amazing gift that she was incapable of realising. The ability to walk into a room so effortlesssly and have others smile just at seeing her.

Friends - thats what she considers us to be. Everytime she looks at me I am met with confliction. I am thrilled that she even looks in my direction, that she acknowledges me as a human being and enjoys my company. Yet I am also filled with a growing grief, that she will never look at me the same way I look at her, but how could she. I gaze upon her like an astrophysists stars at the stars. Captivated by her beauty and curious to learn more. If I was ever so lucky to have Y/N look at me as I look at her... Even once. She would be treated as she deserves, no games to play to make her worry or self conscious or doubt my love.  I would gift her with attention, all the oranges she desired. All the compliments all the help I could muster. Anything.

Yet I am reminded by my own conscious, that reality wouldnt ever be so kind, I am reminded in the most vicious way, by bearing witness to her own infatuation with another. To someone I know will never be worthy of her love. Yet she looks toward him everyday, not me. Her heat races at his name not mine. And he holds her where I cant.

I know I am not the only one to feel insignificant when staring down love. Yet this fact dosent stop me from feeling hollow, as though I am simply a shell waiting to be completed by the affection I will only accept from her.
That without her my existence is without purpose. This ach within my chest that will not cease and the heavy weight that my secret carries.

Y/N p.o.v
Robbie
A commom name amongst our generation, yet tied with it, along with all names is the association of a particular person. So what does this particular name carry for me.
For me it brings memories of kind people, the brightest of smiles along with echos of laughter.
It carries the gift of the creative, the ability to look at something so ordinary and capture it in the most unique way. It also carries memories of excitment, of something new, a lively atmosphere , adrenilinen running through our veins at the sound of 'of mice and men' fills the air, the base running through the earth and into our hearts, a moment of synchrony for thousands.
What cannot be ignored is that as time progresses names can change and carry differet memories. Now the water has mudied and confusion trickles in, the same way a seed grows, all it takes is an idea or question to grow from this seed of confusion and then it cant be killed.
Others stomp on the garden you try to grow for yourself and your left to try and reconcile the damage, unknowing if your efforts will be fruitful. Sometimes destruction can pave the way for something new to grow and that is all we can hope.
Rumours are the reason tension is caused. Sometimes created about of malice and hate, other times out of overhearing the end of a conversation. That was your major problem. You and Robbie had been friends for a while, you loved spending time with him. He was down to earth, easy to talk to, and you thought he was attractive. That wasnt the problem, other people were. They all loved to interfear with things that didnt concern them and now you were put in an awkward situaton. For fuck sake, you thought. You had always denied feelings for ANYONE if you were unsure and so you continuously denied anything always said no. Now there was hesitation between the two of you and you hated it. Why cant things be simple you thought. Groaning as you stuffed your face into your hands. Because your feelings werent simple, you concluded.

This is awful, cheesy, badly written and dosent really make sense. I dont really know what was going through my head when this was written. Sorry.