Extra Darling

Chapter 11: Hook

Night fell upon Neverland quickly after Slightly and I fixed Tala's leg. The light from the ceiling window faded completely and soon we stood only in the glow of the candles. We sat in silence for a long time, my mind racing with thoughts that I could not speak aloud. When Slightly went to get dinner, I barely even noticed. He brought me back a small plate, but I never touched it, and it grew cold.

Tala stayed asleep, but I didn't fear that she was dead, since I heard the faint trickle of air leaving her nostrils, and the movement in her chest. I watched her intently, using her as an excuse to keep my thoughts from wandering back to the shocking information that Slightly told me, but it only worked for so long. I slipped into a habit of pacing the room, taking long strides from one side to the other, my short dress bouncing at my knees. To someone like Slightly, it looked like anxiety. He probably thought I was worried about Tala, which was for the best. If he knew what I was really thinking of, I don't think he'd like me very much any more.

"Uh, Ophelia? I'm gonna go to sleep. It's late." Slightly said, making me stop my pacing.

When I looked in his direction, I could see the exhaustion on his face. His eyes were drooping and his words were slurred. I suddenly felt terrible for keeping him awake with me in my zestful episode.

"Of course," I nodded as I walked over to him and put a hand on his back, "Off to bed with you."

I walked him to the door and stopped, ushering him forward, but he paused and turned around.
"You're not coming?"

I rubbed my arms and cleared my throat, forcing out the lie, "Not yet. I, um, I just want to watch Tala for a little while longer. But you go. I'll see you in the morning."

With a sleepy nod, Slightly turned down the hall and began walking.

"Slightly!" I said in a loud whisper.
He spun and almost fell over.
"Which way is the ocean from here?"
"South...why?" He responded.
"Oh, um, I just like to get my bearings before I go to sleep. It settles my mind."
He shrugged, his eyelids nearly slipping closed, "Okay."
I smiled warmly, placing both hands on either side of his head and lightly planting a kiss on his forehead, "Goodnight Slightly."
"Goodnight." He dreamily mumbled, shuffling his way into the room with other kids in it.

I leaned against the wall with my arms over my chest, watching Slightly stumble into the room and hearing him collapse onto a bed. He was no doubt asleep before his head hit the pillow. I could only hope that Slightly remembered nothing of this strange conversation tonight, and if he did remember it, that he thinks it was a dream. I had something I needed to do, and that something needed to remain a secret.

I walked back into the room with Tala and grabbed a lantern that was hanging from the wall. The candle inside was lit and gave off a soft orange bloom, causing shadows to stretch around the room.

Earlier I had recalled seeing a long, black cloak hanging from a nail in the main living room. I figured the color would help me blend in to the night, and avoid any attention from beasts hunting for food. I stuck my head out of the room and looked down the hall towards the room with the sleeping kids. I didn't see any movement, nor hear anything but their steady breathing, so I quietly made my way down the opposite hall. I was careful not to make any noise as I walked down the pebble strewn hallway. I could see the stairs ahead of me, and the closer I got, the more nervous I was that I would be caught. I spun my head at that moment, fearing that I was being followed, but the burrow was quiet with sleep. I passed the main living room before I hit the stairs, about to grab the cloak off the wall, and I froze.

Lying on the couch with one arm thrown over his chest, and the other resting on the cushion with a pipe in his hands, was Peter. His brownish-red hair was tussled across his forehead, the dark green hat sitting at an odd angle. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that his eyes were closed, his lashes gently fluttering against his cheeks. The fire crackled beside him, telling its own story as Peter dreamed of his.