The Second Star to the Right

The Man Who Refused to Believe

There was never a doubt in Peter's mind that he had some sort of connection to the girl standing in front of him. Why else would she be trying so hard?

But something in his gut made him not want to fulfill her request. He had not yet figured out his identity, and here is this girl, standing before him, asking for a kiss.

Somehow he had a faint recollection that a similar looking girl had desired to kiss him before.

"I'm sorry, what?" He finally mustered out.

"Kiss me. Peter. It might help with your memories..." She looked hopeless. He saw the longing in her eyes, the tired bags that had been stirring for many many years. Wendy had been anything but healthy. It hurt that he could only remember the window, and no matter how hard he tried, that's all he saw in his head.

A beautiful blue nightgown, drifting toward a large window that had been open for so long. A slow and swift motion, and her hands tugged at the handles, pulling the window shut, and the breeze that always came into the room, quickly departed.

He hadn't the faintest idea as to why this made him so upset. All he knew was that he would not kiss someone he barely knew.

This would seem like such a backwards thought after the intimate moment they just shared, but he couldn't help but hold her after she began crying as her mother kicked her out. He would want that same support as well if his family had kicked him out, which they might have, he didn't remember.

"I can't... Despite how much I feel like I care about you... I'm not going to kiss you. I barely know who I am..."

The look of desperation in Wendy's eyes had grown abundantly and Peter hadn't thought it possible. He watched as his refusal to give in to her request had created a sort of broken gaze from her. She was looking at him, but it felt like she wasn't even there, mentally or emotionally. The blue eyes that he remembered had been dimmed and had almost no feeling behind them. Numb, was probably the best word to describe what he was witnessing. Her small hands clenched into tight fists and she finally broke his gaze, looking down and biting her lip.

"I understand. I just don't know what else to do.."

His desire to wrap her in his arms had come back as quickly as it left, only this time he had not given in.

"Why do you think my first memory is Kensington Gardens?" He asked, changing the subject, after an awkward silence

"You were abandoned here by your parents." She said bluntly, and with a sharp, cold tone. Her words stung him and he felt goosebumps form on his arms.

"What? How would you-" he started, but was quickly interrupted.

"I know more than you think. Remember? We have quite a history..." She murmured

"I wish I could remember..." He trailed off, and then his eyes lit up with an idea. It could be an awful idea, but still it was an idea. "My family abandoned me here... So... If I went and found them.... Well I'm sure they're still in London don't you think?"

Wendy shook her head abruptly. "They gave you up Peter.... Even if they were still in London, I think they gave you up for a reason. Maybe they weren't ready to be parents."

Peter noticed Wendy's dramatic change in attitude. It wasn't disdain, yet it wasn't love either. The woman standing before him had officially hit her breaking point, as if he had closed the windows of his own nursery, no longer allowing her in. At this point, it was like watching her pound helplessly on the windows, like a lurking shadow, every single night... Hoping.. Hoping to hear another...