Lost Girl in New York ✓ [OUAT Peter Pan X Reader]

Awake

YOUR POV

"(Y/N), what's wrong with mom?" Henry screamed through my dreamless sleep. 

I had taken a quick nap after lunch to recharge my batteries, which is weird because I just spent almost the whole morning just moping around the house and eating. 

"(Y/N), come quick, something's wrong with mom!" 

The last sentence practically screamed into my ear even if I knew he was outside. Jumping out of bed, I rushed to the living room to find that Emma was out cold on the couch. 

My little brother shaking her arm vigorously trying to wake her up. 

"What's wrong?" I asked in a slightly grumpy tone. I never really liked being woken up unless it was for something that was actually important. 

Assuming that my mom had probably drank her coffee down to the last drop, then this was just part of the side effects. But of course, Henry didn't know that, and I needed to pretend like I was worried. 

However, I just woke up from a nice nap and wasn't really in the mood for acting so I just went back the way I came and returned with Emma's blankets. 

Covering her entire body except for her head with them, I turned to Henry, "Don't worry, she's probably just in very deep sleep." 

He didn't seem convinced and I knew I had to throw in a few more white lies. 

The very-deep-sleep part wasn't a lie though, in fact it was very, very true because it had to help with bringing her memories back. But of course, I left that as a complete truth that was just not said.

"She doesn't look sick to me, I'm sure she'll be fine." I yawned and it was a sure sign that my soft bed was already missing me. "Now if you'll excuse me, I was in the middle of a nap."

Turning on my heel, I ignored all the other side comments coming from him, desperate to get back to sleep. 

Lying in my bed, minding my own business, snuggling into my pillow, I heard a tapping on the window.

Sitting right up, I saw Peter outside, looking at me with pleading eyes to let him in.

That's when I realized that it was actually raining and my poor Peter was drenched.

He kept tapping and I climbed down the small ladder on the side of the bed, making my way for the window to open it.

He stumbled inside, getting drops of water everywhere and he was shivering.

I took closed the window and rushed towards the closet pulling out a towel, handing it to him.

I told Peter to sit on Henry's bed, which he didn't object to, as he continued drying himself.

"Did you come all the way here from school?" I asked him, placing a hand on his wet back.

Peter nodded as he moved on to drying his hair.

"You should probably change clothes." I told him, rubbing his cold back.

"Do you have my size in boy's clothes?" He joked, giving me a peck on the nose.

"Can't you use your magic?" I asked, confused.

"Wasted half my energy killing your classmate, my magic is acting all weird in this world." He explained.

I nodded slowly, my gaze fixed on the wooden floor. Looking back up, a thought struck my mind.

"I remember one time Emma bought Henry a bunch of clothes that were a few sizes larger than him by accident," I laughed, relieving the memory. "I think you could wear those."

"Okay." Peter smiled, wrapping the towel around his neck. 

I returned from Emma's room with a bunch of clothes in my arms, finding Peter looking at the photographs on my desk.

And might I add, he was shirtless and his hair sticking in all directions like he just stuck his finger into an electrical outlet. 

I could feel my cheeks turn beet red as I hid my face behind the small pile of clothes I was carrying. 

"Oh, your back." He said. "You've got really interesting pictures."

"Th-thanks." I stammered. 

Dammit, pull yourself together, (Y/N)!

Peter let out a small laugh as he approached me. Placing a hand on top of all the clothes, he slowly pushed down, revealing my still blushing face. 

Refusing to make eye contact, I kept my gaze on the floor once again. 

"What's going on in the little mind of yours?" He poked my forehead, chuckling.

Taking the clothes from me and walking out the door to find a bathroom, I rubbed my forehead as I reached down for his wet shirt, taking it downstairs to the laundry. 

Peter came back moments after, wearing Henry's blue hoodie and jeans and carrying his wet clothes in one hand and the extra ones in the other. 

"Make yourself at home as I put these back where I found them." Making him sit back down on the bed and taking Henry's clothes with me and into Emma's room. 

When I returned, I had found that Peter was downstairs so I followed him, curious as to what he was up to this time. 

My breath got caught in my throat as I found Emma seated on the coach with the blanket wrapped around her. 

She was holding a glass of water and Henry was beside her rubbing her back soothingly.

Peter sat on the wooden stool by the television, eyes trained on his unmoving fingers.