Metanoia - Peter Pan OUAT

Chapter Seven

Being blissfully unaware of her surroundings was probably a state in which Metanoia found gratitude in. However, she did not particularly appeal to the darkness that entirely surrounded her. She could not feel, nor see a thing, although she did hear voices of males yelling, raising their voices near her and overwhelming her ears. She could hardly comprehend the contents of their verbal exchange, however, she heard the severity of their tones - cutting through her peaceful state like sharp knives.

Suddenly, her sense of feeling was restored as she felt the rough fingertips of a boy ever so gently brush her hair away from her face. Her eyebrows twitched upon the sensation, and she heard a voice murmur near her, "I think she's waking up."

Slowly yet surely, Metanoia's eyes fought to flutter open, and when they finally did, she was blinded by an overwhelming brightness, engulfing her sight entirely, and so she involuntarily squinted her blue eyes.

"Metanoia." A voice breathed beside her softly.

As soon as she finally adjusted to the brightness surrounding her, Metanoia noticed she was laying on an uncomfortable bed. She shifted her head to the side and found Theodore sat right beside her, his face within close proximity to hers, and she involuntarily blushed. She pursed her lips as she mentally shot words of resentment towards herself for having little to no control over what happens to her face. Metanoia grudgingly chose to rip her sight away from Theodore, who was gazing at her with an overwhelming intensity laced with palpable concern. Instead, her eyes landed on Sam, who had one leg propped up against a wall, and his arms were crossed over his chest. He was staring at her with a gentle look and a soft smile. A few feet away from him on an ancient looking chair sat Nate, his face scrunched up into a distressed frown, and his intense brown eyes boring onto her small figure on the bed.

"Hey, guys." She uttered the words, which left her lips hoarsely, her throat burning like wildfire, and her face twisted in pain.

"You sound like shit." Sam observed, stating the obvious, and causing both Theodore and Nate to scowl at him, but Sam simply shrugged as a response, hardly fazed by their irritation.

Metanoia found it funny, and she huffed out a small laugh, her lips etching into a lazy smile, but she felt her lip split as she did so, and she winced in pain.

"How're you feeling?" Theodore whispered in concern, and Metanoia finally looked at his face once again.

Blinking slowly, she replied, "Like shit."

"Told you." Sam deadpanned.

"Dude, not the time." Nate scolded him.

"You should have some water. You must be dehydrated by now." Theodore advised, reaching behind him for a wooden cup, before he handed it to Metanoia. She struggled to sit upright on her own, so Sam shuffled his feet over towards the bed and gently helped her up while Theodore held the cup in his hand.

"Thank you." She murmured to them both as she slowly took the cup from his hand and took a small sip. She sighed in pure ecstasy as she felt the cold liquid run down her throat, smoothening the rough feeling she'd been suffering from, and she licked her lips to dull the ache in her split lip.

"What happened?" She wondered softly, her eyes trained on the cup held in both her hands, the sight of the natural element within bringing some form of peculiar comfort to Metanoia.

"Daft Denzel cheated, that's what happened." Sam uttered, vexed as his mind recalled the events of their hand-to-hand combat battle.

"The guy's absolutely vindictive." Theodore commented sourly, a menacing scowl invading his facial features, and Nate sighed angrily.