#i can't beleive tumblr ate this

[heartlcssboy]

❛ is this what you think love is? ❜

Peter's jaw tightened and the forest fell silent the moment that the question had been posed. Even the wind did not dare draw Peter's attention as a vehement rage overcame him. He looked through her instead of at her as the upset built. Had he asked too much of her? Of everyone he'd ever cared for? They were always clawing at him for more. When he had already given them EVERYTHING; more than they were willing to give him in return! More by leagues! They wanted to tell him all the ways he was deficient, but he wasn't the one incapable of feeling. They were; Wendy and Jamie both!

He was so sick of that word being thrown at him like an excuse. That horrible, horrible, meaningless word! Because, for them, that's exactly what it was! Meaningless! A false promise. Another thing corrupted by the influence of the Other Place. That's what it did. The Other Place took things and hollowed them out, turning them into a mockery of what they once were. Just look at their cities, nature gutted by industry for the sake of convenience. But nothing about Pan was made to be convenient no matter how badly others wanted to change that.

"And what do you think it is?" He demanded, too far incensed to worry about scaring her as he pressed in closer. Each word a step nearer. "No, really. Tell me, Wendy! I mean it! I want an answer! What is it! What's love?!" His volume of his voice continued to build as he went on until finally it reached its crescendo with: "Tell me!"

Peter could feel tendrils of his shadow pulsating at the edges of his psyche, pleading with him, soundless but clear inside his head. He could feel its panic, but it was overtaken by Peter's anger. It begged for him to cease his onslaught before he ruined everything. But Peter wouldn't stop. He couldn't. He wasn't finished! His body was shaking from the volatile medley of emotion wracking through it. Wendy had asked him a question and he never denied her anything. Now did he?

Peter had crowded her until her back was pressed against the trunk of a large tree. His voice was a growl now, words coming out in a hiss, "Because everyone is always trying to tell me what I can and can't feel or what I'm doing wrong as if they have any idea about what I'm capable of! I keep being told I'm the broken one when it's everyone else pretending. Everyone lies and acts like they know what love is, but then they run away as soon as it becomes too real. Because no one actually knows what they want! And they get scared because it's all too much! Because you don't want to feel things, not real things!"

Peter howled in frustration and his fist collided with the rough bark of the tree Wendy was trapped against, missing her head by inches and splitting open the skin of his knuckles. Crimson leaked from his hand as he pulled it back, stepping away and turning from Wendy. He shook his hand so that droplets of blood splattered across the forest's floor. It was pointless. No amount of blood would heal this wound. It'd been open and raw for long enough that he knew that with certainty.

When he turned back to face her, all of his anger had dissipated. That righteous rage had been all that had been holding him together and now even speaking was an exhaustive and painful effort. All he wanted to do was run to Wendy and cling to her frame for comfort, but he maintained their distance.

"I think I'm the only one in the whole world who knows what it really is to love someone...and no one else is alive enough to feel it." His voice was hardly a rasp, choked with the effort it took to speak the admission aloud, but otherwise calm. He hated to say it. To confront it. Because he meant it and it meant he'd always be left wanting. Forever.

And that absolutely terrified him.