Thing He Loves Most (Peter Pan/Ouat)

Chapter Eight (part 5)

--*Flashback*--

-

I didn't leave my tent for what felt like weeks, staying hidden under the security of the bed comforter. It was dark, stifling, and the old handmade quilt had a musty smell like it hadn't been used for awhile, but it was familiar to me. Preferable. A world faraway from the one in which I lived, where all and everything is forgotten or seizes to exist.

Surprisingly, Pan, and the other boys, left me alone-of course, after many unsuccessful attempts at coaxing me from my cave.
However, as another morning rolled around, it became increasingly harder to ignore the angry growling of my stomach and the mouth-watering smell of bacon and eggs that drifted to my nose, and I found myself crawling out of my cocoon.

I slowed as I passed by the dresser. Earlier, Pan had placed a change of neatly folded clothes on top; a pecan flared blouse with corset, dark green trousers, and a cloak the color of the forest. Next to them sat a medieval-looking wash basin. Knowing full-well what my face probably looked like, I went straight over to it.

The cool water felt nice against my warm, sweaty skin. I wasn't used to this constant hot and humid temperature.

When I straightened up, I looked at the girl in the mirror above. Her long, wavy dark brown hair was messy and tangled. Fortunately, the red eyes and splotchy cheeks from crying had become almost unnoticeable, but the dark circles that lined her once turquoise eyes, which had faded to a dull gray, she had grown accustomed to and could do nothing about.

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair to try and fix it the best I could, making it at least somewhat presentable, before heading to the door.

Cautiously, I pushed aside the tent flap and peaked outside.

Most of the Lost Boys had finished their breakfast and were now scattered around the camp; some throwing knives at a tree or duelling with makeshift wooden swords, while others formed small teams and tossed an animal-hide ball around, their dirty plates discarded to the side. The few boys that were still eating were engaged in a mini food fight, throwing the crust from their toast at each other, and any other pieces of food they could find. Thomas was nowhere to be seen.

Feeling somewhat relieved that I didn't have to face him, I slowly emerged into the open.

Pan, whom was spectating the duel, was the first to notice my entrance, glancing over with a raised brow. A few other boys spared a glance in my direction, and even Devin paused his ball game to send me a glare.

"Hey, she lives and breathes."

I turned my attention to a Lost Boy with warm hazel eyes and blonde bangs poking out from underneath his hood, a teasing smirk on his lips. He had a couple inches on me, and looked about my age-maybe older.

He held out a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. "I figured you'd eventually be hungry, so I saved a plate for you."

I took it, hesitantly. "Um, thanks."

"No sweat," He said with a nonchalant shrug. "I may've nearly died trying to wrestle it from two blood-thirsty lost boys to single-handedly deliver it to you without so much as a single crumb missing...but I'll accept 'thanks', too."

The cheeky grin and the sparkle in his eyes was enough to tweak a tiny smile from me.

"My name's Noah," The Lost Boy introduced, removing his hood to reveal a head of shaggy, sandy-colored hair. He made a sweeping motion with his hand. "Allow me to give you the grand tour."

I opened my mouth to politely decline, but he had already started walking.

After a mere two steps he stopped, gesturing to the large, open space that was the camp. "This is where we eat, practice, make weapons, and pretty much everything else. Behind me," He turned, directing his attention to my tent, as well as the other equally similar structures lined next to it, "Are the sleeping quarters. There are six tents; two Lost Boys per tent--but since you're a girl, we thought it was fitting that you have your own," Noah added with a wink.