73 | Demigod

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INDIANA JONES
lxxiii. DEMIGOD

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PRESENT
UNDERWORLD

THERE ALWAYS SEEMED TO be a calm that shadowed the big storm. Whether it's a rainbow after a thunderstorm or being reunited with your version of family, Indiana Jones learned the arduous way that good things would always come out in the end. Harmony was something Indiana and Peter didn't get enough of. It seemed that just when they were beginning to settle down, something would continually occur that counteracted the serenity. However, for the first time, Peter Pan was beginning to feel as though things were going to start look up for him.

The emerald-eyed boy woke up the subsequent morning to a warm bed with the covers messily placed over his body. His memories from the day before were a bit hazy, for he originally thought that he was in his apartment back in Storybrooke. However, it didn't take him long to comprehend where he was when he noticed how his legs were tangled with someone else's, along with the fact that he and the other person were, in fact, naked.

Looking down at Indiana's sleeping figure, he couldn't help but smirk. From the way her nose scrunch up in her sleep when she woke up, but chose to keep sleeping, to the way she inhaled with her nose and exhaled with her mouth in her sleep, Peter couldn't help but smile. Just being by her side or essentially being able to see her face-to-face felt like a dream. He would pinch himself, but he genuinely didn't want the dream to end if it truly wasn't real.

"I can feel you staring at me, you creep."

Peter arched an eyebrow at the sound of Indiana's morning voice. He missed it. He missed her. "Creep, huh?" he repeated, a playful and teasing tone to his voice. "That's not what you were saying last night."

A grin voluntarily grew on her face as she opened her eyes and jokingly hit him. "You're such a perv," Indiana commented, propping her head up with her arm. "What time is it?"

"Time for you to get a watch," Peter immediately answered. He was proud of himself for getting used to modern-world language, including the terrible jokes most people made when they were 10.

Indiana rolled her eyes while moving her body closer to his. "I see you've been talking to Henry," she noted. "Or reading through my Anna James diary."

"Diary?" he replied. "I wasn't aware there was an Anna James diary."

Indiana tensed, eyes widening. "That's because there isn't one," she rapidly stated, clearly lying. Peter laughed at this, running his hand through her hair. "You never told me what you thought of my hair."

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