Pan's Tiger

Chapter 17: Dreams in Neverland

"I have dreamt in my life, dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they have gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind. And this is one: I'm going to tell it - but take care not to smile at any part of it." I paused as Pan interrupted me by sitting up, pulling my hair to the back of my neck and stroking it delicately, as if it was a jewel itself.

I smiled slightly, not being able to resist the smile tugging at my lips. My dreams were going to stay with my forever; because mine will never come true. I will never be reunited with my friends and family. I will never see my son again. But I will live with Pan in Neverland forever, and that is the most achievable dream I can accomplish.

'What is your perception on dreams?' I asked Pan, watching him as his eyes closed and his once shallow expression becoming more vacant by the second as he soaked up the sun's rays.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing myself to shade my eyes from the sun's pitiless rays. 'I think dreams are very real. I remembered when I walked with you once in a dream. When I grew to old you came to me from Neverland, I recognised you immediately. What about you?'

'I don't know, part of me wants very few of my dreams to be real, they are so terrifying.' I spoke clearly and slowly, as if pondering and treasuring every word.

'You mean, you aren't curious about your dreams?' Pan asked, not being able to understand what I was saying because, like Catherine, he has had weird dreams like those.

'I prefer to dream while I am awake, I don't bother myself about what ridicules my memories create once I am asleep.' I replied and Peter remained silent for a moment. But everything I said couldn't possibly come from the heart. Perhaps what I said was right, I should let go of dreams that haunt me, dreams that seem to have very little meaning.

'I suppose.' Pan mumbled, but by the way my eyes scanned the page was as of someone wishing they could let go of their dreams. I knew that, as much as I said this, deep down I couldn't bring myself to let go of my dreams. I don't think he could either. 'Daydreams are more pointless, don't you think? They're one's greatest weakness.'

'So you don't dream?' I spluttered, confusion wafting over my face faster than the wind in the leaves.

'Nope.' He popped the "p" with a sense of curious pride.

'You don't want a small sense of control over your life? Don't you have hopes and dreams and deepest desires? Don't you want a happy ending too?' It was a unusual idea to me, as I was full of the imagination and power of dreams, opening my heart to the sense of improvement with hard work and perseverance. Without dreams, I would feel empty and soulless. Dreams gave me a sense of hope and ambition. 'You have to dream before your dreams come true, Pan.'

'I don't dream.' Pan concluded again, his eyes drifting over to mine in pride. Then, he brought his lips closer to me, so I could feel his breath tickling my neck. 'I already have my dream.'

I ducked my head in embarrassment, causing him to chuckle a little more. I couldn't resist the pleasant urge to let my lips meet with his, when his lips planted soft, wet kisses up my neck.

'And I have mine.' I didn't bother to add "one of them" and I couldn't anyway as his plump, pale pink lips touched mine. It wasn't a passionate, but it was romantic and sweet, like cheerful, fluttering butterflies aroused in my body.

'My turn.' Pan beamed, pulling away and taking Wuthering Heights from my grasp and making himself comfortable. I accepted his silent invitation and placed my head in his lap, looking at his green eyes from below; they were no less beautiful from this angle. "And this is one: I'm going to tell it - but take care not to smile at any part of it..."

~

I only realised I'd fallen asleep when I woke, my eyes fluttering open to gaze into Peter Pan's. One hand was placed delicately on my waist, not applying too much pressure just in case he woke me, whilst the other lingered in my hair, gently combing any tangles from the jet black pillow.

He hadn't slept at all, he hadn't woken me, he had just soothes me silently to sleep and th n thought onward about everything. There was no less pride and happiness than being so relaxed with the person you love. Nothing, it seemed could ruin that moment.

Night was falling. Th setting sun's red ray's lit up the sky  above the western horizon. But we didn't move. I didn't even sit up from his lap. He didn't move his hands, except the therapeutic combing of my hair. We just watched.

Soon the sun disappeared below the horizon and the sky turned dark but Peter Pan and I sat on the beach gazing at the place where  the sun disappeared. Sunsets are the most mesmerising thing of the natural world.

Pan stood up and began to slowly walk away from me. I didn't move. I merely watched him. As he began to walk into the sea, I stood up and my eyes observed the way he stood: his stance, the calmness, the thoughtfulness, the beauty.

Pan turned around and caught sight of me. I began to slowly walk towards him, slower than he had been walking. I didn't step into the ocean, just stood watching him without words.

Peter smiled sinisterly. Light mist hovered over the water so half of his body was obscured from my view. All I could see was him and the vast ocean surrounding him.

He beckoned to me. I took a step and then another. I was now ankle deep in water. The mysterious boy smiled like a predator.

'Are you afraid?' Pan asked me.

'No,' I replied simply, trying to keep my voice level and my body from shaking with the cold and nerves from the water.

Pan chuckled, aware I was lying. 'We are deep in water, Tiger. It would take seconds to drown you. And what if I try to kill you?'

My lips parted and I could think of thousands of things to tell him if I wasn't so scared. Instead, I decided to show him, 'Or worse: what if you kiss me again?'

We were together in silence, complete silence, but it was comfortable. It was just us, in our blissful infinity, no matter how short it really was, it couldn't be put into numbers, let alone words. Without making a sound, we both got up and made our way back to the camp.

It was the closest we had ever been in the bed that night, so close I could feel him breathing, rather than just hearing it. I watched him carefully, waiting for him to say something that I could sense is on his mind and preventing us from sleep.

Did I fear him?

Should I fear him?

I didn't know. I didn't care.