Chapter 4
Maggie
When you are ready, you will know.
Maggie’s foot tapped impatiently against the floor as she stared at the unmoving potion bottle. It sat on the top of her dresser, the emerald liquid sloshing each time her toes sharply smacked against the creaking wood. The potion was unanswering, simply staring back at her with a prideful gaze.
Of course the potion didn’t have any eyes to look at her with, but there was something about it.
Perhaps it was Hazel’s warning as she left it in her hand.
It wasn’t going anywhere, so what was the hurry?
There would come a time when she would truly need it, but how was she even supposed to know?
The answer eluded her then, just as it did when Hazel first said the words.
To know that the memories she never knew she had rested only a few feet away from her was hard to stomach.
Her instinct wanted to devour the potion the moment she had it in her possession.
They were her memories, after all. Why shouldn’t she know them?
At the same time, she remembered how the first taste of it felt.
When the goblin revealed the flash of memories, Maggie hardly felt like herself.
It was as though she stepped into another body, another life, another existence.
Everything she thought she knew left in a split second, ripped out from underneath her feet.
Maggie shuddered.
Experiencing that again needed confidence behind it.
That was what Hazel meant. Letting out a frustrated groan, Maggie strode toward the bottle and pushed it behind the jewelry box Dusty had carved for her.
The bottle was only slightly obscured from her vision, and it wasn’t like she could really forget it was there.
Knock, knock, knock!
Maggie jolted away from the dresser. Relax, you’re not doing anything wrong.
In the corner of the room, tightly curled away in the window’s reading nook, Sunny stretched his paws out as he yawned.
The fur shot out from around his neck like a lion’s mighty mane, catching the shreds of moonlight as it streamed in, then his stance shifted as he relaxed once more.
As she went to the door, Sunny followed close at her heels.
Peter Pan stood in the hallway. Neatly tailored clothes that fit his muscular frame perfectly rested against his golden skin in dark grey tones.
His light hair was pulled back out of his face, slicked back – minus the few naughty strands striking across his crystalized eyes.
All in all, the man that stood before her was the opposite of the wild and carefree Peter Pan she’s gotten used to, and the change made it hard for her to breathe.
He reached for her, fingers outstretched and emanating an unmistakable warmth.
“Would you like to have dinner with me, Maggie?”
Her eyes trailed over his outfit. “P-Peter,” she breathed, letting out an airy laugh. “You look…well..” her face grew hot. Why did I say that?
“Yes?” He grinned.
Maggie cleared her throat. “L-Let me change if you are –”
“Don’t.” Peter took her hand, letting his fingers graze the inside of her wrist before firmly grasping her. “You look perfect already.”
What was at first a cute surprise threw her off her feet.
She grew wobbly in the knees but bit the tremble back as he guided her forward, reaching behind her to gently shut the door.
The King of Neverland was more of a gentleman than she first realized.
And even though she was dressed in long lounging pants and a simple button down, Maggie realized that she quickly stopped caring.
His words, his everything was more than enough.
Much to her surprise, Peter was quiet as he led her through the treehouse.
There wasn’t a soul in sight, which wasn’t too odd.
The Lost Boys were probably out on their own that evening, visiting their own girlfriends or catching up on their personal hobbies.
Peter walked to the front door and continued still, not even pausing before sweeping her off of her feet, tucked protectively against his chest.
Neverland was dark around them as Peter flew through the quiet treetops.
He lowered to a field, where there was a quiet circle amidst a sea of color.
A clearing in the middle held a wooden table that was filled to the brim with a romantic dinner.
Fluted glasses with bubbling drinks and steaming plates were on display as he set her down on the grassy floor.
Despite it being deep into the evening, there wasn’t a need for any flame because of the bright light from the moon.
Flowers surrounded the small clearing, opening up as they entered the area.
The more the foliage bloomed and shone their natural colors across the field.
They were brighter than any man-made light, warmer than any smoldering flame.
Peter led Maggie through the flowers and pulled out a chair for her.
When he sat beside her, he rested the glass in her hand, urging her to drink, to eat.
“Peter,” Maggie murmured after taking a few bites of a delectable roast. “W-When did you do all of this? How did you –”
He waved his hand in front of her. “Don’t think about that for now, Magpie. It wouldn’t be fun if I revealed all my secrets, would it?”
“I guess not,” she replied with a giggle. “This is just spectacular. And these flowers!”
“We call them Nightlock.”
Her brow shot up.
“Ominous name, I know.” Peter held back his laugh. “They only bloom at night.”
Maggie reached for them from where she sat, her fingers just barely grazing a luminous petal.
It reacted quietly to her touch, the light blossoming before settling into a stomachable glow.
She turned back to see Peter watching her closely, his attention no longer holding onto his food.
Maggie quickly looked away beneath his stare.
“I’ll just have to add it to the list of things I love about Neverland,” Maggie said.
Peter smiled. “What else is on the list?”
“Too many things to count,” she teased. “But there’s the Brownies, of course.
They won my heart over very early into my stay here.
And if you would’ve asked me if I wanted to fly as a child, I would’ve screamed ‘yes’ louder than you can ever imagine.
Sometimes it feels like I’m finding the child I was the longer I stay on the island.
Every one of my dreams are slowly coming true. ”
That made Peter beam. “Is there more than that?”
“Of course! I haven’t even mentioned the Lost Boys!”
He leaned forward, the proximity pulling a blush out of both of them. “And?”
Maggie started to twist away but Peter was quick to lean back in, quick to tuck one arm around the back of her chair, quick to capture her attention once more.
He was like a magnet, he was like a planet with its own cunning orbit.
She got caught by him over and over again, and had no intention of doing anything else.
“You know,” she teased, “I think Peter Pan might be on the list.”
“You think?”
Maggie smirked. “Not sure though. But, like I told you, I can hardly number it.”
“Sure, sure,” Peter murmured, his eyes narrowing.
Laughter piled out between them in the next second.
It was far too easy to be comfortable with him, Maggie quickly realized.
She could’ve been easily convinced that she had known him all her life, that they had spent years together, that they had been in a steady relationship for a long time.
But that wasn’t the case at all, and it only strung more and more questions throughout her – normally – logical thoughts.
Peter touched her cheek, his thumb grazing her chin. “What about the human lands?”
She blinked. “What about them?”
“You have a list of things you love about them, don’t you?” He shrugged as he popped food in his mouth, his eyes twinkling. “You know, for someone who wants to get back to them so badly.”
Maggie couldn’t even be annoyed by him. The words caught her as if she was in the middle of a lie, as if she was suddenly made of glass and her truths were exposed to everyone who dared look her way.
It wasn’t hard at all to mention the things she loved about Neverland.
In fact, there were too many things. There wouldn’t ever be enough time to list them all.
But when it came to the human lands, the only place she had ever known for her entire life, Maggie couldn’t name a single thing.
“Sunny,” she finally said.
Peter blinked. “Huh?”
“My cat, Peter.” Maggie lifted her head, as if there was something to be proud about. “Sunny. He is something I love from the human lands.”
He considered it. “I-I don’t think that counts, though.”
“Says who?”
“Sunny came to Neverland with you, Magpie. I’d understand if you left him behind but,” he trailed off with a shrug.
Maggie breathed a heavy sigh and let her chin fall into her hands. What was there to be proud of? Maggie was finding out she was practically a fraud.
“Answer me this,” Peter began, “why do you want to go back if the one thing you loved came with you?”
Her mouth opened and closed like a fish before the truth came out. “I don’t know.”
“Really?”
“Don’t you ever feel like you have to do something just because you have to do it?”
Peter leaned back in his seat and thought it over before he firmly shook his head.
“We only have one life, Maggie. Why waste it on expectations you only gave yourself? Isn’t the point of living being happy?
” He shrugged and looked out over the fields, his brow furrowed.
“We only have one life. It might as well be a happy one.”
Happiness.
It sounded odd even in her head. She couldn’t live a life made out of happy choices.
Things needed to be sacrificed for responsibility, even if it was something as precious as a smile.
There wasn’t anyone for her to turn to. Sunny looked to her for protection, for food, for love.
That required a stable job. A roof over her head came through persistent work.
Having food on the table came through work.
If she wanted to accomplish any dreams, she needed money.
And money only came from…well, Maggie got the point a while ago.
Maggie never lived her life for happiness before. What was stopping her now?
“So,” Peter suddenly said, turning his chair so that their knees could touch, “How am I doing?”
“What?”
“For the date, Magpie. Am I doing everything right for our date? Like you wanted?”
Maggie gaped. “W-Was this a date?” For a split second, she remembered how underdressed she was.
“Of course!” Peter beamed as he pushed a strand of hair out of her face, tucking it soundly behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her skin. “I plan on doing things the way you need, Maggie. I realized I’m a little late in the game, so a date was needed right away.”
Maggie felt like she was hyperventilating but it was hardly a bad thing.
She was entirely elated. He had listened, just as she had thought.
He took in every word she said and put it into action the first moment he could.
The very same night. Maggie did not recognize a kindness as strong as that, as diligent.
There was no doubt in her mind that Peter truly cared for her, that he really wanted her to stay in Neverland.
Maggie, entirely swayed by him, ate the rest of her food without even realizing she was eating.
The night carried on seamlessly, until their plates were cleared and glasses emptied.
Peter gingerly took her into his arms once it was finished, curling her against his chest before lifting into the quiet air.
Stars sparkled above their heads, flashing in and out as they flew back to the treehouse.
Peter went all the way to her balcony, not bothering with the front door or all the steps to her bedroom.
When he landed on solid ground, Maggie was hardly ready to be put back down.
As if he sensed her thoughts, Peter pushed the doors open with his elbow, not loosening his grip as they stepped into her warm room.
“You didn’t quite get it before,” Peter suddenly said, his cheeks a fiery red as he spoke, “but what I meant to say was…you’re my dream, Maggie. The dream I sought in Neverland. The island has finally answered me. After all these years.”
Maggie was out of breath when she caught Peter’s lips in a kiss.
The embrace was gentle and quiet, their hearts far more entangled than they ever were before.
Maggie melted into his arms and couldn’t imagine walking on her own two feet again, to even exist without him so close to her.
Their heartbeats thumped in time with each other as they kissed, not even daring to part for a gulp of air.
It wasn’t until they were both breathless and gasping that they drifted apart, Peter unsteadily lowering her to her feet.
Maggie’s hands lingered over his chest. “You…”
“I ought to go,” he whispered.
The whispers caught her off guard, but he wasn’t saying anything else. He only stared, waiting as if it was her turn to speak. Maggie knew what he was waiting for, and she almost felt as though she was waiting for it herself.
There was no denying it: she wanted him to stay.
But what would she say? Maggie knew there was nothing to be embarrassed about, but she couldn’t imagine actually saying the words. The silence lingered and Peter placed a fleeting kiss on her temple.
“Goodnight, Maggie Hart.”
As her bedroom door shut behind him, his distant steps echoing down the hall until they disappeared all together, Maggie slid against the wooden walls, clutching at her chest and trying to remember what it felt like to breathe without him.