The Shadow's Keeper ~OUAT Peter Panfiction (Book 2)

Breakfast

Waking from her slumber, Anne didn't feel her caretaker behind her. She assumed he must've got up already and left. At this, a light shade of glum fell upon her. Pulling herself up from her patch of grass, she turned in her cozy sweater finding the one person she thought she knew. Her hearted lifted at the sight of Pan. "You haven't left," she chirped, smiling. 

Crouched down, Pan turned away from the fire he was building as he heard his lost girl's voice. "Well of course not," he smiled. "Come over, love?" He invited urging her with a hand. Smiling, she walked over and saw the orange ablaze like the sun.

        "Are you making something?" she asked looking up at Pan.

        "Perhaps," he smiled. A quick and swift movement of the hand behind him as he kept Anne's attention on his gaze then he showed her, "or made..."

Eggs in a basket. "Breakfast," Anne pointed out.

        "You recognize it?" Pan asked.

        "Only the eggs, have you made it before?"

        "I have," the dark haired boy smiled.

        "Oh..." Pan could hear the disappointment in Anne's response. As a person, she didn't want to not remember something so precious, if it had been because she felt she would hurt the person she thought always took care of her. 

Of course she didn't, Pan actually was relieved she couldn't remember what might've been a dish her real family had made her before. But Anne didn't know that. "Oh it's alright," Pan said with a fake hint of grievance to his voice but Anne fell for it like she had fallen for everything else and could only feel worse for not remembering.

        "I'm sorry," she tried, frowning. Pan fed her a fake sympathetic smile.

        "You shouldn't remember...there is nothing special about eggs in a basket."

        "Really?"

        "Really," Pan smiled but he left a sort've visible lie there and on purpose for Anne to think he just felt bad for her not remembering any significance in eggs in a basket even if there was.

Anne played along with what he said so she, herself, would feel less bad but to make amends, she hugged Pan. "Thanks, is it cool?" She then asked about the eggs.

        "I believe so," he lied.

        "Alright then," Anne spoke picking up the food only to shriek from becoming burned and dropped it onto the ground. Instant guilt she felt and Pan hurriedly came to the rescue. He collected her wounded hand and led her to the nearby stream.  

        "I'm so sorry love, I thought it was cooled!" He mentioned worriedly. Of course he was faking, for he wanted Anne to need him.

        "It's alright," Anne spoke through the pain and stinging of her blistering hand as Pan helped her to her knees. Slowly he sunk her hand into the cold stream and she winced greatly before the incessant stinging began to fade.

        "I'll make up for it, it'll feel better," Pan then replied pulling her injured hand from the water. He ripped a cloth off something behind him, his shirt? Anne wondered and the black fabric was being wrapped around her hand. "Watch closely," Pan told her then lent his head down kissing her hand. She felt a tingly sensation and the cloth was removed. Her blistering hand no more. Completely healed.

A light gasp was forced. "Oh wow," Anne breathed. Pan smiled at her, laughing. She looked him in the face and pulled him into, yet again, another hug. "Thank you!" She piped smiling herself and in joy.