Peter by day, Pan by night

Chapter 31

        The silence is making me nervous. I sit up and shove his shoulder, “It’s quite a funny looking hat. What’s with the red feather?”

        “Believe it or not, this was all the rage a few centuries ago.” He hands me the hat.

        I copy his smirk and slip it over my curls. I stand up and wave my hands in the air. “Methinks the feather a bit much.” I crinkle my nose as the feather tickles it. 

        Peter chuckles and rises to his feet. He bows deeply. “I must admit, I’ve never seen someone wear the hat backwards like that.”

        “You knavish rake! To insult a lady so!” I gasp and cover my heart with my hand.

        “It’s a fact, not an insult. Now, if the lady allows.” He holds out his hand.

        I shrug and drop the old fashioned language. It can be rather exhausting. Peter’s fingers brush over my curls as he pulls off the hat. The moonlight shines brightly over us. His outfit used to match his eyes, but now his black shirt lightens his brown hair. My heart stills as I catch my breath.

        There is barely an inch between us.

        Peter turns the hat around and ruffles the feather. “Perfect.” He smiles.

        I always loved it when he smiles. He doesn’t do it nearly enough. A smile is different from a smirk.

        Peter looks down. His gaze latches on mine. He’s eyes are so green. Bert’s eyes are green too, but they lean towards hazel. Peter’s are a deep unbroken green.

        I never realized how his eyelashes curl slightly at the end. They are long, like Jacob’s eyelashes. But black, not blond.

        I blush. It is a good thing he cannot hear my thoughts anymore. Although I wish I could hear his. What does he think of me? Does he think of me at all?

        Peter’s lips part. “Wendy-” He whispers. He pushes a curl out of my eyes.

        His head tilts down toward me.

        I inhale sharply and step away.

        “Funny hat!” I blurt.

        “What?” Peter twists his hand in his hair. He looks above my head, avoiding my eyes.

        I swallow and tap the corner of the hat. “A funny hat. Maybe you should keep it. I mean, it is yours.” I reach up to pull it off, but his hand catches my wrist.

        “No,” He smiles softly. “I like it better on you.” His eyes darken and he releases my hand.

        I shrug, but wish he hadn’t turned the hat around. We are too close, and there is no feather swaying between us. My cheeks start to ache from my forced grin. I drop back onto the grass. Peter joins me.

        Okay then, now what?

        Peter reaches over me and grabs the bag. “We have unfinished business.”

        “Peter!” The boy is insufferable.

        “What is this stuff?” He pulls out the wooden star. “Daine, of course. But this-” he holds up the torn blade of grass. “What is this?”

        “It came from this meadow.” I roll my eyes. “Nothing in there will interest you! Well, except for maybe that.”

        Peter rolls the acorn between his fingers. “You kept it?”