Chap. 5

4.7K 111 71
                                    

I awoke to the sounds of someone softly humming. I looked around me trying to spot the person humming. I sat up in the bed and looked across the room. It was Peter. He had his back turned to me and seemed to be sketching something at the table.

"Peter?" I asked. He turned around and smiled.

"You're awake," he said.

"I am," I replied.

"Are you still mad at me?" Peter asked.

I thought for a moment, trying to think of the best response. Of course I was still mad, but I couldn't let him know that.

"No, I forgive you," I said. His face brightened.

"Wonderful!" he said.

I yawned before speaking again. "What are you drawing?"

He grabbed the paper off the desk, walked over to me, and hopped onto the bed. He handed me the paper and I looked over it. It was a picture of him playing his flute as the Lost Boys danced around him.

"Wow, it's beautiful," I said as I handed the paper back to him.

"Thank you. I like to draw in my free time," he said. "Now, why don't we go join everyone for breakfast?"

"Give me a minute to get ready," I said.

"More like sixty," Peter chuckled. I picked up one of the pillows on the bed and threw it at him.

"Out!" I declared as I pointed to the door. He stood up from the bed and cocked his head to the side.

"You're kicking me out of my own hut?" He asked, now laughing.

"Yes, now go," I said, still pointing at the door.

He walked to the door, waving as he opened it. I watched him step out and as the door closed, I sunk back into the bed. Another five minutes of sleep couldn't hurt.

---

It was, akin to Peter's joke, about an hour later when I joined everyone. When I stepped out, Peter was there, next to the door. He gave me a smirk.

"And I was just about to come and check on you," Peter said. I rolled my eyes.

"I slept for an extra thirty minutes," I justified. "And of course you know how long my routine takes."

Peter just stared at me sweetly. That's a bit weird, especially for him. But was it really? I thought back to all of the simple gestures. The hand holding, the reassurance, the comfort. Did he...? No, he couldn't.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing. It doesn't matter," he said.

"Um, okay," I said.

I looked around the campground, searching for Neal. I walked around, looking anywhere for where he might be, Peter trailing me. If I find Neal, I could leave hints for Henry to find him and we could help him escape. Together.

"If you're looking for Baelfire, you won't find him," Peter said.

"I'm not-"

"I know that look. You always have it whenever you search for Henry," Peter said as he leaned against a tree in front of me with his arms crossed.

I sighed. "Where's Neal? Or- or Baelfire, whatever. Just tell me where he is."

Peter grinned slightly and raised his eyebrows.

"I wouldn't bother looking. He's nowhere near here," he said.

"I won't give up until I find him," I said and turned around to walk away.

Dancing With A Demon // Book OneWhere stories live. Discover now