In Another Life

In another life, she would've stayed away from him because she knew how bad, how dangerous, how cruel he could be.
In another life, she would've clawed and screamed at him for trying to find comfort in her, because he had done worse things when she had tried to find comfort in him.
In another life, she would've ran and ran and ranandranandranandran when he reached out for her in desperation.
In another life there's no way she would be concerned for his welfare because in another life he had clippedherwingsandmadeherscreamuntilherthroatbled.

This was not that life.

In this life, she was pure, innocent and he hadn't torn her apart and tainted her soul and rippedoutherheartwithhiswords.
In this life, she found him curled into himself on the streets, bloody and broken and animalistic and her soul SCREAMED at her to help.
In this life, he held her painfully tight to himself as he wept into her shoulder mumbling about the dealers and the rats and the other beggars that couldn't get away and the screams that he could still hear.
In this life, she had brought him to her house and cleaned his face and shaking body and coaxed him to eat something because she could see his skeleton through his skin.
In this life, he, a king in another life, couldn't sleep alone so he crawled into her bed whimperingandsobbing so the bird queen of another life held him until his breaths calmed and he was lulled into a deep sleep in her arms.

In another life, she would've held the pillows to his face until his arms stopped flailing, until his legs stopped kicking, until hischeststoppedrisingandfalling.
In another life, she would've given him a thimble, her hidden kiss, a last kiss to his cold, dead lips and then drove a knife through her chest because sheloveshimandhateshim and couldn't live with him but couldn't live without him and the day he stopped breathing was the day she would die from relief and a broken heart becauseshewouldneverbefreefromhim.

In this life, she simply squeezed him and kissed his forehead, faintly humming a lullaby that she had sang for him many times before in a different life.

Yes, what a cruel fate she had in another life. But in this life, this wrongwrongwrongwrongwrongrightwrong life that WASN'T TRUE but WAS, that didn't feel right until he came, but then felt right in wrong ways, she could be with him.

The bird queen that hates the boy king but loved him too much to breathe when he had stopped doing so. The bird queen could be with her boy king because this was a different life and she had dropped his crown and he had broken hers and they had grown up and this time he couldn't escape it.

This time he didn't have a crown, he had his heart. This time he hadn't rippedhisheartout because f e e l i n g anything towards his bird would ruin the plans and his crown would snap. In this life, he was a man and she was a woman and their souls had been intertwined and he liked it because he was NORMAL and could FEEL and she was PURE and could HELP.

In another life, they would cry or rage because they would never be together because F A T E hated them and arranged their story to fail from the beginning.
In this life, they had no idea about how they would affect one another and Fate was making up for everything and they will fall easily and fast.

In this life, Wendy-Bird and Peter Pan could love without regrets, and in another life they had wished but his time was ticking and the sand was flowing and when the sand ran out and the dagger punctured him and his heart stopped beating and he couldn't breathe so she stopped too.

In this life, they could work because they had grown up.

In this life, they could work without Neverland and pirates and Lost Boys and adventures and cages and a brother that wasn't a brother and a time limit and a heart of a believer and a crocodile and a tribe and a ship and a pixie and a skull rock and a hidden heart and a THIMBLE.

In this life, even if they weren't aware, all they needed was each other.

Just a writer named Wendy Darling and a beggar named Peter Pan.