I think I've discovered my new goal for the remainder of my time here. Learn magic so if Johnny steps one foot out of line I can destroy him. Physically, I've got nothing on him; he's big and tall, and muscular.
Magically however, one fling against a wall and he's out. I've done it before, and I'll do it again. Next time though, I hope he's out permanently. Two boys here have been in comas, Caleb and Thomas. If all goes according to plan, I'll do worse than a coma. Third time's the charm.
I'm not all that sure how to get to Pan's fort from here, so I simply head out into the woods, searching for a clearing. Twisting and turning, I find one that is mostly dirt, except for a large rock off to the side. This is the perfect spot.
"Pan." I call out.
He appears before me, which I'm thankful for. Plan B was going to be cutting my hand open, and I'd rather not be in pain. Not when I'm trying to use my hands anyway
"Well Charlotte, isn't it wonderful to see you." He smirks, stepping closer to me. "What do you want?"
I close the distance between our bodies, looking him dead on. He's only slightly taller than me, and I barely have to tip my head to look straight into his eyes, as our chests are pressed together.
"Can't I just want to talk to you?" I ask, cocking my head to the side.
It's more fun to tease Pan than to actually be mad and stoic. It works on Alex and Harry, but it doesn't work on him. You've got to play the game.
"We both know that's not how we work." He squints at me, a smile only daring to show itself on his face for a second.
I turn around, moving backwards. I lean against the rock, barely sitting.
"You're always going on about how you're the best at magic right?" I ask.
"I am." He offers, slowly moving closer to me.
"Right," I roll my eyes. "If you're so good, then teach me."
He shrugs, before pulling me up from the rock. "Fine."
I rip my hands out of his, before straightening myself up. The air is cool, and it makes my spine shiver. Could I have found a cloak? Probably. Would I have had to speak to the Lost Boys to do that? Absolutely.
I'd rather suffer than put up with them. The chill the cold gives me is nothing compared to the chill they do. I'll deal with this tank top for now.
"So, what am I supposed to do?" I demand.
"Stick your arms out in front of you." I hear his whisper tickling my ear before I even realise he's behind me and not in front of me anymore.
I hold my arms in front of me, inhaling sharply. "Now what?"
"Magic is like talking." He tells me. "You just know how to do it."
"I learned how to talk." I scoff. "Were you just born already able to talk? That must've been awful for your parents. Nine whole months of waiting, and out you come, and they realise you're so very annoying."
A breath escapes his mouth, and the sound of his smirk wraps its way around me. "Don't over think it."
I dare a glance at him over my shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye I can make out the corner of his lips. The pink stands out against his light skin. Almost like strawberries and cream.
"I don't think about much at all." I whisper.
I keep my hands up, before moving them harshly in front of me. Nothing happens. I don't really know what I expected to happen.
"Maybe think about it a little." The words roll off his tongue, a playful insult.
I roll my eyes, smirking. A strand of hair falls in my eyes, as the wind begins to pick up.
My hands fly out, and I decide I want to stop the wind. Stepping forward, I release my hands into the air, breathing out energy.
The wind doesn't stop.
"It's not going to work." I turn to Pan.
"Not when you talk like that," he grins, cocking an eyebrow.
Raising my palms to the wind, I wait, closing my eyes and concentrating. The wind will bend to me, it'll stop.
I stop. Magic isn't meditation. It isn't some ancient art practiced by old monks. Magic is power. Exuding force off in waves, like an ocean. Anger and will, and pushing it out into the world.
I slam my hands up in to the wind. One over the other, my elbows sticking out in opposite directions. It looks like I'm blocking an attack, but I push against the wind at full force. It roars back against me, and I feel myself flying through the air. Soaring back half a dozen feet, landing on my back. The wind knocked out of me.
Struggling to breath, I stand up, lifting my chest up and down. It takes a few seconds for me to bring the air that whistles through my throat to my lungs. Pressing against my chest, I try to make myself breath.
"What was that for?" I ask, peeking up at him.
"That wasn't me," he says, "you aren't exactly could at concentrated or directing your magic. To put it frank, you're swinging a sword like a blind man."
I don't know where to push anything, apparently. "I could use a bit of instruction."
"Instruction isn't really my thing." He laughs.
I pull myself back up once I realise I can breathe alright. My hair whips around in the violent air, so I pull out the ribbon, shoving it in my pocket. No use having it if it's not going to be any help.
I shove the air again, this time, I fall through it, stumbling forward. "I could really use the help."
"Helping wouldn't be helping, darling." He smirks.
Darling. That word again.
Forcing my hands forward, the wind bounces off them like a wall, switching directions. Now it is Pan's turn to go flying back, but just as the blast hits him, he vanishes.
I feel his hands on my shoulders before I notice he's there, and I spin around to face him.
"Now you're getting the hang of it." He laughs.
As infuriating as his mocking is, I can't seem to find anger in me. A small light of pride ignites in me, and it takes all that I have to maintain a straight face.
With my free hand I move to send more wind towards him, but I find none there.
"Seems you've lost your spark," he cocks his head to the side, taping his fingers against my hand.
His skin is soft, like peaches.
Electricity jolts through me, a shiver up my spine. Only it comes out my hand, a white light, like a sparkler in the night. It crackles out my fingers, and Pan lets go at the feeling.
"Not really." I smirk, shoving my hands down. "Seems I've got all the spark I need."
Firecrackers go off in my hands, as tiny white lights dance on my fingertips.
He has a look of shock on his face, and when he swallows I feel my throat tightened.
"It's electricity." I tell him. "We've got more than a lot of it where I come from."
"Does it all come from you?" He jokes.
The sparks die down in my hands, and as I snap my fingers I can't figure out how to make them return.
"You still haven't managed to stop the wind." He tells me.
I shrug. "Maybe I started it. After all, didn't I make it change directions?"
"You switched the magic around, that's not stopping. That's converting." He enunciates every syllable of the word 'converting', either to mock me or because his English accent is so heavy he can't even say the word properly.
"Can magic even be stopped?" I ask.
He shrugs, leaning back against a tree. "When it's yours absolutely, but when it's mine, that's another story."
"Cockiness is unbecoming." Not on him though; it fits like a suit, tight in all the right places.
His shirt hangs on him in all the right places too. Baggy around his waist, but fitting tight on his broad shoulders. It looks comfortable; different from all the clothing I see around here.
He shrugs, before smirking. This is getting out of hand.
"Just stop it would you?" I ask.
He leans off the tree and the wind stops suddenly. My hair tumbles back around me, all messy.
"You've got some really neat party tricks." He laughs, leaning towards me.
"At least I know what electricity is." I step closer to him. "I'd ask if you were born under a rock but I already know you live in one."
He smirks down at me, from just above. "If you could make electricity, I'm certain I could."
"Show me then." I cross my arms, eyeing him up and down.
He snaps his fingers, and I peer down at them. Fire tingles out of the tips, lighting up the air. I hadn't realised the sun was setting, but its glow seems to be only a little stronger than that of the flame. At least we have stars here, or else it would be pitch black.
"That's not electricity." I tell him.
I look back up and find his eyes on me. "What's electricity like then?"
"I don't know." I tell him. "Like the beginning of a flame. It's like feeling nervous, in a good way."
"Nervous," Pan continues on.
Of course he doesn't know what nervous is like.
"I guess anticipation?" I offer. "Waiting for something to happen, unsure if it will. Something good, mind you."
He bites his lip before pulling his mouth into a smirk. "I think I get it, Charlotte."
"If you keep calling me Charlotte, I'll have to start calling you Peter." I tell him.
He winces, squinting. "Peter is such a harsh word."
"So is Charlotte." I argue, my voice sing-songy.
He smirks slightly, but doesn't argue.
"I will figure out your little lighting." A smile grows across his face. "If you can do something, Charlotte, there's no doubt in my mind I can do it."
"Really, no doubt?" I ask, leaning my head to the right while looking at him.
"Absolutely none." He chuckles.
I feel the sparks threaten my fingers, instead my hair stands on end, pulling straight off my body. I can't see it, but I can only imagine the dark lion mane that engulfs my head.
I see Pan cock an eyebrow up, as I pat my head, attempting to smooth down the ridiculous hair. I snap my fingers and the hair falls down on to my face as the 'little lighting', flashes through my fingers and into the air.
"Anticipation, huh?" He asks.
I am mortified. The sun is fully set now, and I can't believe how grateful I am. The shade of red my cheeks must be now must just look likely a healthy flush in the dim lighting. Unless, it's not quite as dark as I imagine it to be.
Stupid magic, making my stupid hair stand up. Stupid static electricity, may you rot in hell.
"At least I can do the damn thing," I mock. "You couldn't do it if you tried. Got no idea what anticipation feels like, do you? You aren't one to wait for anything. Anything you want, you take."
He steps against me, until my hands are pressed between his chest and mine. He smirks down at me, and I ball my hands in to fist, breathing in and out slowly.
He grabs my wrist sharply and I feel the zap of electricity jolt through my hand. It makes my arm tingle, until the white light streams out my hands in sparks, realising into the air.
"Believe me," he says, "I know what anticipation is."
Maybe he does. I can feel his breath on my face.
"Pan," a voice calls out.
I jump back in shock, the sparks slowly disappearing.
Felix is here. "There's a problem."
Pan quickly moves over, grabbing hold of Felix. Not a word escapes his lips, formed in a sour expression. The two disappear into the night.
My eyes widen, as if I'm suddenly back on the Earth. Pulling my ribbon out of my pocket, I quickly throw my hair up, before walking back to camp.
It's been a long night.
~~~~~~~~~~
This chapter is dedicated to PeanutKay, as a thank you for all the awesome covers. Trust me, I didn't forget about you, I just wanted to give you the perfect chapter.
What do you think? This chapter was just entirely metaphors, so if you didn't really get any of the innuendos just ask. Electricity, peaches, anticipation. I haven't been this happy with a chapter since I started planning Season 2B.
Yeah, Season 2B. I want season 2 to be amazing.
For now, de-stress, and I'll see you Thursday.