Peter Graham was just an english boy until he was stolen by pirates and taken to Neverland, the place inbetween worlds. There, he became Pandemonium, the fearsome fae warrior who started an organisation planning to otherthrow the pirates. But when P...
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Chapter Three - Everything is Fine Song - God in Jeans - Ryan Beatty // Everybody wants to rule the world - Tears for Fears
Windsor wasn't happy. No, he was furious, scared, confused and slightly turned on by the practically shirtless very attractive man called Pan, but he wasn't happy. (How could anyone who had found themselves in an unfamiliar place, with strangers who'd placed him and his siblings in chains and then another set of strangers who told him he could trust them but then acted shifty as all hell when asked where he was, be happy? He felt lost in more ways than one.)
Pan, who lived in a strange jungle with people like that girl Cailer who had tried to kill him and his siblings, and would have smiled that terrible wolfish smile as she did it.
Windsor's hand drifted to his throat for a moment, remembering the feel of her blade against it. He'd thought he was going to die. But he didn't, obviously. Apart from the near death experience, his other main problem was their idea of camouflage, namely as little clothing as possible. Practically nothing on Pan's top half had been left to the imagination, in less dire circumstances, Windsor probably would have enjoyed this blessing. However, he had a feeling he was in danger, which tended to require the use of most of his brain cells, however limited a supply there was.
Right now, Windsor was looking at the shirt Cailer had given him for dinner when she'd shoved him in the small cave he was told would be his room, and when he asked for how long Cailer had just fidgeted with the handle of one of the weapons on her belt as she told him to come to dinner tonight so Pan could explain what the hell was going on. Windsor tried not to think about how foreboding that interaction seemed, but all he could do was replay the scene in his head. He briefly considered whether he was more akin to a lamb to slaughter than a lost child, but dismissed that theory on account of it being too upsetting. With a grim smile, Windsor supposed that an actual lamb probably did the same when confronted with the chopping block.
There was a leafy mattress (Leaves seemed to be the theme for these people) and a large box Windsor figured was for his clothing. If he had anything apart from his pyjamas. (Spoiler alert: he didn't.) Well, now he had a shirt made from leaves.
His pyjama pants were to be worn for a while longer. It didn't bother Windsor, right now the only thing bothering him was whether he'd get to go to the bathroom before his dinner.
"You ready?" Called Jean from outside the small cave Windsor now called home.
"Yeah, give me a minute." He called out, trying to flatten his annoying hair in the mirror while he shoved the shirt on. His hair wasn't messy, or curly, it was just poofy. Fluffy, almost. It annoyed him to no end.
"Why? Trying to look nice for your boyfriend? We're going to dinner with him so if you're thinking it's a date I won't tell anyone." Windsor sighed as he could almost see Jean winking suggestively at him through the wooden slats they used for doors.
