I jump back to my feet and run over. “Peter, stop!”
Peter shakes his head, eyes locked on his enemy. But me, I’m staring over at Jem, my eyes all wide, already filled with sorry’s that I don’t know why but I feel sure I’m about to owe him. And then I feel that stupid kite heart of mine blow all the way over into a tree, rattling around, twisting, and getting tangled on itself.
“Girl, stay there,” Peter signals me. “He’s not safe.”
“Peter.” I shake my head at him, impatient. “I’m fine!”
“He took you from me.” Peter shakes his head, and I shake mine back.
“No, he didn’t.”
Peter turns to face me. “But don’t worry. You’re safe now.”
Jamison’s jaw goes tight. “She wusnae unsafe before.”
I stare over at Jem, my eyes heavy but not as heavy as his.
Peter draws his favourite new dagger. “Don’t you speak to me.”
Jamison rolls his eyes at him. “And d?nnae ye wave that wee fucking knife in my face.”
“Or what?” Peter asks with high eyebrows.
Without thinking twice, Jamison draws his sword. “Or this.”
“Stop!” I yell urgently, shaking my head at him. “Please, Peter.” I pull on his arm. “Stop.”
And then Peter spins on his heel, grabs my face with both his hands, and kisses me.
It happens so quickly and with such a peculiar force that stretches beyond me. Was it physical? Was it gravity? Was it his hands? I honestly couldn’t tell you, only that I don’t stop it. I don’t even think to stop it till it’s already naturally stopped.
A bit because it feels counterintuitive to stop Peter Pan from kissing you, and I wonder if that’s maybe his mother’s fault. Magically charming, is that what Itheelia said? In this moment, that makes a good deal of sense to me, actually, and over time, I suspect I will dull to what that quietly implies.
When Peter’s near me I feel like I forget why sometimes, truthfully, I like it better when he’s not.
It’s hard to remember things around him at the best of times, but when he’s touching you—it’s hard for that fog to fully lift.
Then the kiss is over and the fog lifts to a haze, and I see that Jamison’s gone.
And here is the terrible thing and the part that frightens me: Was that kiss three seconds? Was it three hours? I couldn’t tell you—I have no idea.
I didn’t even get the chance to tell Jamison that if I could figure it out, no, I don’t think that would be even sort of bad at all.
* * *
* And regrettably sexy.
* I say as though I’m not.
? And Rune tinkles that she indeed must know, and frankly, I do not blame her.
* This is true regardless of anything else.
* A girl may hope though.
* Which means “stubborn.”
* He died before I was born. My mother met him on a dig.
* Which means “sad.”
? Which means “sadness.”
* And I’m not even at all remotely jealous.
* Read nosily.
CHAPTER
TEN
Over the next day or so, Peter regales so many people so many times with how he saved me from Hook. That I was in danger and Hook was grabbing me, about to kill me or worse, and then Peter came—swooped in, crowing, to save me.
I don’t like it when Peter calls him Hook either. He says it like it’s a dirty word, and it’s not. I’m rather fond of his name.
I’m rather fond of all of him, actually, I think.
Two nighttime’s have passed since I saw Jamison last, and every second I’ve had to myself, I’ve spent in my mind trying to get back to the moment before Peter came for me as though it’s a puzzle that I’m missing a piece to. Was he about to kiss me? I wanted him to so badly.—I didn’t even realise how badly until it didn’t happen.
And before that, before we went inside the mountain. The air on my face and the snow that fell on our noses—I go over it again and again in my mind because I’m scared it might slip away as all memories do here.
How angry I was with Peter—for what happened with him and Marin and him and Calla—since being around him again, has dissipated how I worried it would.
It began to feel less bad; time can do that—lessen things, make them more bearable, dull the sharpness of truth till it’s something you can swallow.
It doesn’t hurt me like it did before. I’m not angry like I was; it’s all muted now.
And we haven’t spoken about it or anything.