NEVERLAND: Book I

16: A Trip Down Memory Lane

Wendy's POV
As soon as the words left Peter's mouth, I instantly grew wary of the idea. Yes, flying would get us to the echo caves faster, however, I've never flown before. This could go very wrong. I could plummet out of the sky, fall to my death, and the Hound would be there laughing as she watched my funeral from the shadows. This was definitely a bad idea. 

Mira and Felix were already up in the air, getting the hang of flying. When came my turn to get a dash of pixie dust, I was ready to climb back down the Thinking Tree. It was strange because I wasn't afraid of heights necessarily, it was flying that I was afraid of. My first trip to Neverland was anything but pleasant. The Shadow was just flying so fast and he wouldn't slow down when I told him to. That was first sign that agreeing to go to Neverland was a bad idea. The rest of that story is history. 

Peter must've seen the wary look on my face as he asked me if I was okay.
"I don't know about this. What if I fall and plummet to my death? Then you'd have to clean up my remains because there is no way in hell that I would stay in one piece if I fell from this height. And what if it doesn't work? What if I'm standing here like an idiot and it doesn't work? Then what? Then I'll just slow you down and-" Peter cut off my rambling and gripped my shoulder.
"Wendy, you'll be fine. It really isn't that bad. I can tell you this, once you get past the fear of flying, it feels amazing." Peter reassured. "But I can also tell that falling isn't the real reason why you're scared of flying." Damn it, I was hoping he wouldn't notice.

"It is a reason. Just, not the only reason." I fessed up. "When I came to Neverland the first time, it wasn't a very good trip. When the Shadow grabbed my hand and soared into the air, he kept speeding up. He was going faster than I was comfortable with and I got scared. He wouldn't slow down when I told him to and a few times, I thought I was going to hit a chimney. When we arrived in Neverland, the Shadow just dropped me and I fell who knows how many feet out of the sky. Honestly, I'm lucky to be alive today after that. So, ever since then I've been afraid of flying." After confessing my fear to him, Peter's expression softened. 
"I'm sorry to hear that." He said. 
"It's fine. But now I'm going to have to walk to the Echo Caves." I sighed heavily.
"No you're not." 
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you're not walking there. You're flying." He said with determination in his eyes.
"Peter, did you not hear me when I said that I am terrified of flying?" I reminded.
"No, you said you were scared. You didn't say anything about being terrified." He joked.
"Peter."
"Wendy."
"I'm not flying." I frowned.
"Wendy, there is no better time to face your fears then right now. If not now, then when?" Peter countered.
"I'm pretty fine with my fears, thanks."
"Wendy, look at me." He stepped closer to me and tilted my chin upwards so I was looking him in the eye. Damn it, why did he have to be so tall? "Nothing bad will happen to you up there. Not while I'm here."

I looked into Peter's eyes. They were so green. You could really tell with the green flecks of pixie dust lighting up the sky. Something about looking into his eyes, it made me feel safe. Maybe I could do this?
"What do I have to do?" Peter smirked down at me. "Let me show you." He sprinkled me with pixie dust and turned me around and held me by my waist so I wouldn't fall. I could tell he was still close behind me as he was breathing on my neck and my back was pressed against his chest. He was very close.
"Close your eyes." He instructed. I did as he told me to.
"Now, simply think lovely thoughts." He said. I scoffed. "Like what?"
"Like your brothers." He suggested.
"Kind of a sore subject right now." I sighed. 
"Your father."
"I haven't talked to my father in over a century. Of course to him it's only been two years, but that doesn't make him seem like any less of a stranger." I said. 
"You really are tense." He said half- jokingly. I just rolled my eyes, not even bothering to argue with him. "Maybe I can change that."

He pulled me impossibly closer to him and I felt him move my hair to the side and his breath fanned my neck. Now his hands settled lower; at my hips. He gave them a slight squeeze and he blew on my ear.
"Peter, what are you doing?" I asked.
"Giving you something good to think about." He replied. 
"Like what?" I gulped.
"Like how my hands feel on your hips." Peter gave my hips another squeeze.
"How my breath feels on your skin." He huffed against my neck, causing goosebumps to form.
"And how my lips feel on your neck." Just like that, he started to plant feather- like kisses on my neck. I let out a sigh of content, relief? I wasn't sure. All I was sure about was that Peter was kissing my neck and I wasn't hating it. He definitely succeeded in his goal of giving me something lovely to think about. I had never been kissed like that before. Of course, I've been kissed before but it was chaste and certainly never on my neck. But Peter has been kissed like this and he has kissed someone like this. He certainly knew what he was doing.