Monster // Peter Pan (Robbie Kay) (OUAT)

Chapter Thirty One

A/N:

"ughhhhh mia you take forever to update and it's soo annoying you NEVER do anything for me.."

well guess who's back ???? me lmao

read Breezeblocks pls lol it's Emma and I's book and it's on my account and I'd appreciate it very much thx

So last night Monster was #165 in Fanfiction i legit like cried

Alsoooo on Chapter 9 and Chapter 22 we have almost 700 comments. That's literally insane omg

Song Recommendations:

Life of the Party by The Weeknd (LITERALLY DROP EVERYTHING AND LISTEN TO THIS. HOLY CANOLIEEE)

Colerain by Way Yes

Chapter Thirty One

Day 70

The moon had risen, sending white-washed cosmic light spilling through my cream curtains and cascading dream-like to the floor. I tossed and turned amidst it, the lunar smoke drifting lazily around the window panes.

I was bothered by how awake I was. It was odd hours of the night. Odd hours, not even hours, because something felt odd and I couldn't bring myself to fall into an unconscious.

A gentle rumble of thunder tumbled like a rippling wave across the sky, flattening the stars in place on the stellar pedestals they balanced on.

Great, I thought, How come the day can fall asleep, but not me?

It was like my body anticipated the approach of a storm, my mind an ingress for neurotic tendencies to come heinously through. I could not sleep, and I could not lie restless, watching the shadows of the moon hover awkwardly over the floor.

I slid out from beneath my sheets, the blackened crevices of fabric bunched up as I threw them to the end of the bed. I stepped onto the hardwood, a creak whispering into the room, before I clasped the front door handle and walked out onto the deck.

The night was weary. The lanterns outside the huts swayed within a nocturnal breeze, their orange flame dancing in the thunder. I sat down on the deck, my legs dangling like wooden chimes off the edge, catching the dew that flew from the grass and into the air.

It was most definitely an odd hour. It was an hour in which the nighttime waited for me to wake uneasily while it visited. It was the oddest of hours, for the sky was still but lively, with the generous lightning, the low growls of thunder, and the feeling that the entire universe had its eyes on me.

It was as if the sea wanted to join me in my solitude, and crawl up onto the beach and through the forest, silently, and sweetly, and loiter around my head while I drowned in it. It sang, wildly, and it began to rain. That was the ocean's song; it murmured its greatness and staggered in the storm's downpour. The rain dabbled in the sea, and the salty teardrops merged with the deep.

Everything was loud: the lagoon was screaming now. Its instrumentals of coiling wave and crashing current were about to sweep me off the deck.

But I pulled myself out of my thoughts.

Because it was a silent night, and the sea was still lying placidly restful, and somber, and didn't join me. It did not join me in my solitude.

I've had a sleepless night or two in Neverland, but never one that left me intensely perturbed and clawing through thoughts I left jumbled in the attics of my brain. Nothing so insomniac, nothing so loud, yet silent.