(Cross posted to ao3, gn and masc versions will be uploaded there.)
Synopsis:
Finding a stranger in the jungle of Neverland will always be a cause for concern.
So, when James stumbles upon a lone woman with a bizarre manner of speech and an even more peculiar style of dress, the last thing he expected was for her to rope him into discussing the changes and inevitable loss which adulthood brings.
----
(Or rather: After finding yourself back on the island of your youth, you decide that it's a good idea to vent your frustrations to your childhood imaginary "friend"!)
°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ °‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡
He caught sight of their head first.
A lone ship, floating atop a sea of green. It dipped below a ferns wave and bobbed back into his view when the tide receded. There was a breeze, which blew in from the coast, its hands still warmed by the sun as they reached for the petals of a lone anthurium to pull along in its way, uncovering a glimpse of the strangers eyes.
James came to a stop, his hand hovering above the hilt of his pistol which dangled from his belt.
He thought he might've stumbled upon one of the islands residents and- seeing that they weren't an animal- this narrowed his discovery down to two options:They were either a member of the native communities or- and truly he would have been delighted to discover it- one of Pans detestable youths.
Stealth is required when handling both but only one is worth the hassle.
A lost boy for ransom was like fish-guts to a shark when it came to luring Pan! But the closer he stepped, the more he could see and that knowledge worked well to cut any well-crafted plan of his in two.
cradled in the bosom of the jungle, with her arms draped over her raised knees and her cheek laid atop her bicep.
James estimated her to be in her early twenties. The child, which she had been, carved away. Her tussled hair carried a crown of stray leaves, a few strands framing the curves of her face which had been speckled with dried dirt.
He'd be a fool not to find her a pretty sight.
As he approached, James found that she too had been observing him, unable to ignore the outlandish nature of their meeting, as though one spotted a fox in Marylebone lane. A twig snapped under his boot, ripping him out of his reverie.
One of her hands flexed, fingers curled into a claw before slackening again when she gave a slow stretch, the action almost reminded him of a lounging cat. She reclined against the boulder behind her, head turned to rest on the moss which blanketed the stone. Her eyes came to a stop at the weapon around his waist.
"I'm unarmed, Captain." She said.
Her voice stood out like lights through the mist and through the reflection of its cadence, he found recognition.
The thought rang through his mind like the shot from a cannonade, but no matter how hard he tried, he could recover no memory of her. James's eyes were sharp as a cutlass, working with obsessive precision to dissect her for information.
The hair, the skin, the edge of her shoulders, analyzing the pieces he'd cut and going back for more yet what he found unsettled him further. Something was wrong. It pulsed under her skin to tease the untrained eye.
A quirk of her behavior, or rather,
her eccentric choice of dress.
He wouldn't call himself shallow, not wholeheartedly, but James took great pride in displaying his class through extravagant 'mode'.
She on the other hand, chose to shock rather than charm.
Though of a good material, the trousers had been cut above the knee while her shirt's sleeves ended a few inches below the shoulders. The front bore a peculiar emblem which, to his surprise, had not been embroidered.
But she'd been true to her word, her hands were empty.
"Foolishly so." James removed his hand from the hilt of the pistol, continuing his approach.
An overhanging fern brushed over his boot, the tips curled into the polished leather and reached after it once he passed.
"You will forgive my suspicion, I hope. But pray tell..." Coming to a halt about a foot in front of her, James pressed the pad of his thumb against the hooks tip. "How can a young lady, such as yourself, find herself without a chaperon at such a scandalous hour? I believe I am well within my right to assume there is presence of foul play?"
She appeared rather derisive and flashed a smile worthy to needle him into agitation.
"So a girl can't enjoy a night out?" She asked.
"It's an unlikely occurrence, given the setting."
Her smile appeared too eagre, too tight. James took note of how the corners of her mouth cut into the muscles of her face.
And James looked off to the side in avoidance of it.
He tried to think of a time before piracy, tried to sift through the memory of everyone he'd met at Eton, at ports and city streets. But those faces seemed to melt into one another like ink on wet paper until his past became indecipherable from the present.
A tension made itself present in his stance, poised to strike like a cornered beast.
"Unlikely? I don't think so, you're alone out here too." She stated and looked past him to where the shrubbery gave way to the trees beyond. They stood tall as columns from antiquity, reaching high to carry the weight of the treetops, their mossy banners draped over spire and stem.
James turned around, glaring off into the direction which caught her eye.
There, a tree in the distance. Its stem appeared shrouded in darkness as though it wore a coat. It was large and James wondered if its crown reached through the veil to catch a glimpse of the heavens. But despite its stature, the poor old thing was as hollow as a casket, the life it carried in its limbs had since trickled down to the little creatures that made their refuge in its belly.
James spotted them in an instant, perched atop the spiraling branches and fluttering over roots and stones. With their varying colors, they appeared to him as refracted light spilling from a glass prism. Patterns in a kaleidoscope swirling around the forest.
James wrinkled his nose and his focus returned to the girl.
But when he laid his eyes on her, it was like a child had switched places with the woman. Wonder softened her countenance while she let everything else slip from her mind. Her pupils dilated to catch the lights like a net would for fireflies. Greedy, in the way she attempted to give all an equal share of her attention.
Yes, she was positively delighted and James, was left wondering how long it had been since he had gotten enraptured by such simple things.
He is not above appreciating beauty!
How many times did he stop in his relentless pursuit to admire the petals of a flower in his path?
How often had the wonders of nature roused a sense of the sublime in his breast?
He had felt his skin prickle, been moved to tears by poetry and tasted divine heights of aesthetic pleasures through Turners brush.
But when it came to things like fairies, it turned rather tricky.
Their negative qualities vastly outshine their beauty.
James ground his teeth and his molars ached. She was still preoccupied with her marveling, calm as the breeze hushing through his curls.
Scullery maid, bakers girl, the daughter of a dame,
his stomach was in knots, but still,
"Would you be so kind as to tell me where you hail from?" James breached the subject with as much care as he could muster, clearing his throat in an attempt to shake the strain from his voice. He did not approach further, only fixing the slouch he had taken on.
She didn't look at him but rather tilted her head in his direction to hear him better. An action serving well to vex him.
"The city. If we're going by where I live now."
He scoffed. "How descriptive. Traditionally, one would specify which one."
"Ok? But that's too personal." She scratched her jaw and shrugged, finally offering him a glance.
"You want my mothers maiden name next?"
James licked his teeth, brows knit together tight. He swore that a blood vessel popped in his skull.
"You haven't even given me yours."
She had one of the most despicable smiles he'd ever seen
"Because you don't need it."
Oh, how he bristled! What an ill-bred little creature!
James had to grip onto his right arm to restrain himself from lunging at her. He took a deep breath, allowing his eyes to fall shut and once he'd regained his bearings, he let his arms drop to his sides.
"You're quite a menace, aren't you?"
"Oh yeah?" She said it as though he wasn't armed. Her mind turned to craft a thought but by the speed with which her mouth shot open, it must have only been half realized. The words came out in a hitch of breath.
The frizzen cover clicked back, he directed the barrel to her forehead.
"So you do know of him. How?"
She froze. It pearled like blood - though only the result of a pinprick. It vanished as soon as it came but James could sniff out fear faster than a shark a wound.
Come now, my Lady!" He jeered, his words teetering on the edge of amusement. With his face a grin, James repositioned his grip on the pistol, hovering his finger over its trigger.
"Don't tell me your wits have abandoned you?"
Despite how her lips remained pressed into an uneven line, the edges twitched in bouts. She appeared stricken, as he'd broken some unspoken rule between them and pushed at the boundaries of her trust.
Her nostrils flared, yet she gave no answer.
He needed to push harder.
James tilted the barrel up and aimed it over the boulder, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he threatened to fire. But before he could follow through, she stopped him.
An unspoken plea had been hidden in the quiver of her jaw. Her chest hitched from an intake of breath before she parted her lips:
"We used to play together."
She looked down at her shaking hands, hoping that acknowledging the signs of her fear would chase them away, but it only made them worsen. She snapped her eyes back up to keep his weapon in her line of sight.
Her lower lip trembled, but she wound her features up tight and, clearing her throat, nodded in his general direction.
"When I was a kid, I mean.."
James furrowed his brows. The pistol remained steady but he his posture slackened.
Of course! He'd not found a tether to the past!
What was is gone and what is is not for him to have!
James bit the inside of his cheek and aimed at her sternum, gaining an unobstructed view of her face.
"And that cretin ceased calling on you once you grew up." He spat.
She looked a fool, staring up at him with her mouth agape. A fairy passed them from above and the pistols barrel reflected gold onto her skin in a broken pattern, .
How sweet it was, the way her hand covered her heart as though the delicate bones could stop a bullet from penetrating it.
Her eyes flicked towards the bushes beside her but, seeing as she didn't move, she must've decided against following her impulse.
She raised her head and looked him in the eyes.
"That's his thing, isn't it?"
James frowned, the honesty in her voice almost robbed him of the firmness he needed to conduct such an impetuous interrogation.
Who is to say that she didn't lied? Pan's children are known for their loyalty, staying true even after he had wronged them.
But then, she wasn't a child anymore, was she?
She sat before him now, a woman and how many of those did that foul brat keep among his ranks?
James huffed, giving the pistols hilt a squeeze before he slackened his shoulders and let his arm sink. He released her from his line of fire and her breath left her in a tremor.
His mercy had cut the strings holding her upright, she slumped forwards.
They fell into a stalemate,
listening to the crickets which sat on their burrows doorsteps to play their fiddles beneath clouds of Ixora. Thin branches swayed to the rythm above their heads as though in the hands of conductors.
She considered to let him make the next move. After all, what does one say after looking down deaths barrel? But James kept quiet, his stern glare fixed on the patch of dirt separating the two. Removing a bit of dried mud from her knee became her project but the weight grew until the silence between them ended up too heavy for her to be bear.
"I'm sorry for pissing you off.." She said, breaching the subject with care as she peered up at him from under her lashes.
James stuffed the pistol back into his belt before pressing the palm of his hand over his mouth. "Tis not a difficult thing to achieve, I assure you." He hoped that she hadn't heard the crack between his words, but alas, it might just have been what brought back her smile.
James's thoughts held court with his feelings!
Had he a justification for threatening to shoot a young woman shortly after meeting her?-
The verdict fell with a bang that made his skull rattle.
His hand slipped below his jaw until it cupped his throat.
It seemed that James had been so deep in thought, he hadn't realized that she'd began to shuffle along the boulder in order to make space by her right. His eyes trailed after her as he attempted to make out what she was trying to achieve.
Because if this was her idea of a potential escape, he hadn't any hope regarding her intelligence.
But she moved no further and made no attempt to crawl into the foliage.
stranger yet, she reclined once more and reached out to pat the earth by her side. "Do you want to sit down?"
James blinked and lurched back.
Was this a game? He threatened her life, mocked her fear and now she wished to be in his company?
Aye, maybe he did know her,
from the mad house near Liverpool street.
He wrinkled his forehead and, after a moments hesitation, James opened his mouth.
"That wouldn't be a very wise idea."
"Why not?" She asked, still patting the ground, still smiling. "It's easier to talk that way." But that didn't work to coax him to approach.
"I mean, we'd be even? You almost killed me and I'll unnerve you with social interaction!"
"My Dear, those things are not comparable in the slightest." He pointed out, gesturing towards her with his hook. "Furthermore, I would not have killed you." But in saying that James fought the urge to cross his fingers because-
"You probably would have! She laughed, pointing an acusatory finger at him before settling back down with her arms crossed over her chest. "But if that won't work to convince you, perhaps you'd be more likely to indulge after I mention that it'd be the polite thing to do…also looking up like this is really starting to hurt my neck!"
James glanced over his shoulder like he expected a committee of buckled shoes and starched collars to act as shepherds for his behavior. He turned the pros and cons over in his mind as though holding a coin up to the sun.
By Davy Jones, this was almost laughable!
The point of the Hook nearly pricked his thumb and James shied away from it in an instant.
There was a drag in his steps when he approached.
James huffed as he sat down by her side. The stone felt cool to the touch, it seeped through his coat when he leaned against it. James placed his hand on the ground to readjust himself and shuddered when he felt the moist clinging of dirt and leaves between his fingers.
Odd's fish!- this damnable humidity!
If he'd have known that his evening would be spent with a mad woman on the jungle floor, James would have worn simpler garments!
While he had made a show of squirming himself into a comfortable position, she'd rested her cheek against the stone to face him. "How are things with you?"
The question in it's simplicity rendered him speechless. James wasn't a novice in the art of light conversation, but there was a place for that and this dark piece of forest certainly wasn't one he saw fit. Besides, what had he to gain? He may have exploited her connection to Pan, but that had long since been severed!
James scowled so deeply that he could feel an ache forming in the muscles and turned away. It felt as though reality had slipped from him. This moment toyed with his senses like a strange dream and a part of James hoped that someone would hop out of the bushes to wake him but the only thing he could find was a doe, creeping through the underbrush, a way's ahead.
"While your pleasantries are..heartwarming," he raised his knees and mimicked the way her arms rested atop of them.
James cleared his throat.
"I am not your friend, young Lady."
"I feel like you ought to be, we're more alike than I thought." She chuckled, her eyes leaving him so she could watch the fairies again.
They'd since left their hollow, most flying hand in hand to partake in a reel around the trees. The forest lit up as they twirled, brighter, more vivid than before and with every flash James managed to find flecks of gold in the pools of her eyes.
He stared at her, lips parted. "That, I highly doubt." James chuffed, tracing patterns along his sleeve while mulling her claim over. His answer made her snicker and, folding herself forwards, she laid her cheek on her forearm.
"Maybe not in all ways." She plucked at tip of a monstera's leaf which hung partly over her head, watching the limb bounce from her idle ministrations.
"You didn't answer my question."
James ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek while watching a little army of ants march in uniform over broken twigs. "What is there to say?" James shrugged, trailing after one which carried the remains of a moth in it's pincers before it disappeared into the bushes. "I suppose that I feel decent."
"You're still angry?" She asked and left the leaf alone to wrap her arms round her uncovered shins.
James wrinkled his nose. "Still?" He glanced her way and noticed that she had been studying his face.
"Yeah…" She whispered, blinking and then she sat up. "Wait- you don't remember me? Like, at all?"
James's brows pulled together and he stopped to scrutinize every part of their meeting anew.
"Did you think my confusion to be in jest?"
She looked off to the side then back towards him. "Well no- but I figured you might've needed a minute?-" Her voice carried an edge. Fear- he thought or perhaps something deeper.
"I assumed that you'd recognize me the way I did you- "
"So, you are a victim of nostalgia." James interjected, otherwise she might've prattled on until infinity. "You are aware that re-introductions are, not only an expectation but a necessity here? This island warps your sense of reality. how was I meant to recognize you, an adult, as one of the thousands of children that wash up on these shores?"
Her shrug appeared exaggerated, her arms flung up to gesture around the surrounding jungle. "I didn't know there were rules to Neverland!-" She huffed and pointed her thumb to her chest. "I mean- the last time I'd been here I was a kid not a law-abiding citizen!-"
And then she froze, the color draining from her cheeks like water down a brook. "I think I killed one of your men-" She whispered, he could barely heard her
"People don't die here. They always return after the story ends."
Still, she squirmed and when the light touched her again, James found traces of a cold sweat on her face. She brushed down her head with her palms, taking a breath.
"But it felt so real-.." She whispered. "Is this really how it is? Like a play? If your part is to die, you're gone 'til the curtain falls?" And, falling into a meditative silence, she placed her hand against her chest as though soothing an ache there.
How does one grasp such a thing? Death without dying?
"Do people here remember what happened before they..?"
She abandoned the question, for his eyes had born down on her with a crushing weight. James's bitterness was a knot, but instead of laying dormant like an anchor on the sea-bed, it pulled itself tighter the more he thought of his endless defeat.
So close but he escapes his grasp and then the cycle repeats.
A lone coyote wailed somewhere near and they both perked up in unison.
She had slipped her hand back up to her mouth and nipped at the flesh between her thumb and index finger. Her eyes glazed over as she stared at one of the ants on the ground, the little beastie having marched out of line to circle the husk of a Ladybug.
"Could you…. tell him that I'm sorry?" She whispered.
James was unable to bite back his smile.
To think that, in her youth, she'd thrust a sword through the stomach of a grown man without a care in the world! Wasting no thought on the moral question behind the taking of anothers life.
Just a simple skip and a flash of silver which vanished into the wilds of cloth and skin. Only the joy of the blades journey through parted muscle, slicing veins like jungle vines before finally freeing the treasures from the cavity.
It was only a game after all.
"My Dear," He sighed and- swatting at his shin- he crushed an ant which had climbed it's way atop the polished leather. "A prospector doesn't remember the kernels of sand he washed during his hunt for gold. There have been so many of your kind and the island never ceases to provide more."
James brushed the remains off, sparing no second glance to the little black husk which had landed somewhere in the dirt.
She squirmed, he noticed a little twitch in her shoulders before she forced her hands into her lap, grasping the hemline of her top.
Again she apologized and again he refused to offer reconciliation.
Instead, James glared ahead to watch the dancers between the trees, observing a pair-both a silvery blue as they twirled about with interlocked arms. They spoke in the melodious ringing of touched wind chimes. The jingling of Christmas morning and the tinkle of raindrops on a glass pane.
They were singing and though James recognized the melody, he was unable to understand the words that went with it.
"Why have you come back?" He heard himself ask.
Her posture tensed, shoulders giving a jerk like her body was unsure what to convey to him. "I think how would be a better question, Captain." A little grin was sent his way, crinkling the corners of her eyes. She ran her palm down her shin and to the ground below, tracing the tips of her fingers over a dead leaf laying beside her. Picking at the edge of it, she sunk the nail of her thumb into the dried skin with a quiet crunch.
She cleared her throat and lifted her head to the treetops above their heads.
Had they have been on the beach, it was certain she could've seen all that the universe had to offer, could have gorged herself on torn strings of pearls, twinkling sapphires with frosted edges and clusters of rubies like ripe cherry's. She itched to reach up, to fill empty pockets within her imagination until the seams ripped. But the jungle was vast and hung over head like a funeral veil, allowing only a few of those treasures to shine through the canopy as though one would peek through the lock of a chest.
"I don't know how I did it.." She mumbled. "I just sat on my balcony one night and.. really, I just wanted a quick smoke-"
She shot him a pointed look, frowning like a disgruntled mother.
"I'm not taking health advice from a man who created a gadget to smoke more."
James snorted, the action made his upper body jolt. "Touché." he sighed and nodded his head, flicking his tongue over his teeth before he slipped his hand inside his coat to retrieve the holder.
He'd come prepared, it had already been stuffed with one half-smoked cigar on each side and James clasped his teeth around the mouthpiece as though it was second nature.
She scoffed, her jaw hanging slack while she watched him conduct his preparations. "You're such a hypocrite!"
Her laugh warmed her countenance rather nicely, in his opinion.
James gave his response through a hum, took out a tinderbox from his pocket and balanced the little tin on the top of his knee, holding it in place with the flat of his hook before he unscrewed the top with practiced efficiency. He put the cap aside and reaching in for one of the small chips of flint which he held in his palm before picking out his metal striker.
James took the holder out of his mouth and placed it in his lap.
She rolled her eyes but the smile didn't falter. So, tucking her legs under herself, she turned her body so she could face him, stemming her elbow against the boulder to lay her head in her cupped palm.
James peered up from his project and noticed her look off into the distance again, sucking the inside of her cheek in contemplation. "I was on my balcony and just let my mind drift while looking up at the night sky…which, in itself was pretty weird, considering how visible everything was..." She trailed off her sentence, tilting her head towards the heavens once more.
"I'm not used to that anymore…"
James chuffed, raising his brow at her. "Spell of bad weather?"
"No..it's just the light pollution."
He blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"Right, sorry," She cleared her throat and ran a hand through her hair, letting the strands slip past her fingertips like rain over a blade of grass. "you know when a canon goes off and the smoke just obscures your field of vision?"
He nodded and nearly laughed at the gesture she made with her hands, a terrible impression of smoke if you asked him.
She continued, "It's like that, but throughout the entire city and instead of smoke it's light. You can't see much of the stars because everything's always illuminated."
James had fastened the flint to his hook with a little loop, fashioned by himself, and aimed it over the charcoal in his tin. "Who on earth provides the torches? Must be rather costly to fund such an excess of wick and tallow. " He mumbled, grasping the striker between his thumb and index before he brought it down with a scratch and click, a sparkle of light flashing through the dark, brightening the bottom of his face.
"We don't use those, we have electric lighting." She explained, trying to keep her amusement at bay.
James looked up at once, his hand halting just above the flint.
He had been gripped by a sudden melancholy. His jaw gave a twitch and he saw himself forced to avert his gaze.
James cleared his throat but the lump in it remained.
How much had changed? Just how much had he missed since mooring himself on this accursed island? Was returning home even a possibility for him? James felt a shiver travel up his spine, his hand shook.
"Praised be human ingenuity." He mumbled and struck the flint with enough force to break it in half. He cursed under his breath and fumbled for another.
She circled her fingers around her wrist like a bracelet, turning her head away out of respect for his pride.
He struck again but the spark didn't last.
"But..um.." She continued. "I saw that second star.."
"And I just…I wished I could go back…I begged to come back.."
It took hold at last, a tiny red spot polluting the charcoal tablet in the tin. James reached into his coat pocket once more, pulling out a wick match which he held to the glimmer.
Light spilled out over his front and managed to leak past his arms to pool in her lap and reflect like sun kissed water upon the underside of her face.
He took the holder back into his mouth, guiding the wick up to the cigars and puffing in breath as he did, painting their tips a smoking red.
"Wow.." She sounded almost breathless and a part of him was greatly satisfied to evoke such a reaction. "That is so much effort for a smoke."
Forget it, she only wished poke the embers of his irritation, Lucifer spare him.
"You seem to have a knack for running off-course, don't you?" James grunted while sliding the iron stopper over the wick, stuffing it and the tinderbox back into his coat. He took a drag, keeping it in his mouth for a moment, before blowing a silver curtain of smoke through his nose. James took the holder away.
"But, to summarize, you have wished upon a star and returned to the island of your youth. And here I thought one had to be a child to be whisked away. Did you fly here?"
She shook her head. "I don't know? I just woke on the beach after falling asleep."
James nodded, the movement slow, questions sprouting forth in his head like daisies during spring.
People don't just appear in Neverland- let alone adults.
And yet here is proof of the contrary, sitting at his side with an easy if not perturbed expression. Her head hung now and she sat picking at some pebbles which had embedded themselves into her skin, revealing the dimpled flesh when they fell.
"You haven't answered my previous question." James said, taking another drag of his cigars before narrowing his eyes at her.
Her lips parted to form a small "o". His eyes were on her and James continued his wordless needling while she changed position once more, sitting straight, resting her dirty palms in her lap.
She hesitated, nipping her lower lip.
"I mean..I suppose I got overwhelmed…dissatisfied with the trajectory of my life at the time?" Her fingertips were in a frenzy to pull at a speck of loose skin on her thumb, trying to cut it off with her nails. "It's not like I returned immediately after- I didn't until…a few good months later, I think.."
She paused, staring at the glow of the cigar tips as he took another long puff of them and with an idle fancy she followed the veil of smoke as it billowed upwards into nothingness.
"I will not indulge this, young lady."
She frowned, squinting as- to his delight- she caught sight of the condescension written in his smile. "You're no fun. This is the where you draw the line? Really?" She huffed and James chuckled as he offered her a shrug. He shut his eyes and used the holder in his hand to gesture about. "Perhaps if you finish your little tale," James shot her a glare which she returned with a tiny grin, then he continued. "I will give it consideration. You're a terrible storyteller, I fear."
Laughing, she waved him off and regarded the dancing lights in the woods. There weren't as many as before, the older ones must have retired and the youngsters, which remained, spun about in slow spirals.
"Like I said, the wish was spoken out loud months ago. In all honesty, I forgot all about it. But now..." Her sentence drifted off into wary hesitation, she hung her head.
It was like the realization of her predicament hit her with all it's force, the recoil leaving her mask in shambles.
James could watch in real time as her face fell. Her expression carried a sudden fierceness to it which extended to the muscles of her throat, a sudden shimmer at the corners of her eyes. "It's not fair." She muttered. "It really isn't.."
She sat up straight, carding her fingers through her hair before lacing her hands together at the back of her neck. Shutting her eyes, she took a breath.
"I just wanted an escape.. and now that I've got it I'm still not satisfied because it's not like I remember. I just needed an outlet for my imagination because good God! Do you know how hard it is to actively be creative with a full time job?"
James was a pirate, an honest job wasn't in his expertise, but he nodded anyways.
She scoffed, glaring down at her fists, the knuckles lighter from how tight she balled them up. "I come home and all I can do is lay in my bed and stare at my phone- quite frankly, I was- no am still fed up! Frustration just..gnaws at me like a starving dog and all I wished for,"
She inhaled, focusing on the expansion of air in her chest before continuing.
"Was time for myself, 'a room of ones own' if you will where I could just hide. I wanted to go where my thoughts ran wild, where I drew them down in the sand as a little girl not even thinking about the tides that would take them as their own one day. I wanted to give my imagination the freedom it used to have because I can't help but feel that, since growing up, that…wild thing in my head has grown sick of it's cage.
Contrary to what I had been told, my imagination hasn't gone away, it's just morphed into something to make me miserable."
Her voice had biting grit to it, a grindstone over a blade. She ran her shaking hand through her hair again and let it's tips catch between her fingers before touching her cheek to cool the warmed flesh there. She stared at him, deflated but not yet unwound.
"I'm sorry." Her smile was uneven and too small. "You're the last person I ought to vent my frustrations to.."
James tapped the holder and in doing so, shook loose light flakes of ash.
"Aye, you should know me well enough."
A spark managed to tear itself loose, taking the plunge, burning like Icarus. For a moment it was beautiful, bright as the sun, then it vanished into the black soil beneath James's boots.
"I'm scared that I'm wasting myself." she confessed and James nodded, a few of his curls managing to shake themselves loose to spill over his forehead.
"I understand." he offered.
Hadn't the need to become someone, pushed him to these very same shores? Was not his pursuit of Pan a way to justify his decision to leave the security of good society for more?
She laughed most bitterly, frowning. "I thought it'd get clearer the older i got, but it just seems to become more complex with each year."
James ignored the way she dabbed her fingertips under her eyes.
"You're still young," and saying that made him feel quite the opposite, "There's time enough-"
The two stared at each other but it didn't last long for, as she stood up, she whipped around to search for the little glows but the fairies had since ceased their festivities and left behind an oppressive darkness.
A shiver ran through her, her face pulled together in distress. She sniffled and covered her face before turning around to glare down at him. "There's twenty-four hours in a day and it feels like half of them are spent working! Sure, if I manage my time right, I could- potentially- get things done. However, I don't have the time to make an Excel sheet! I shouldn't have to sit down on a Sunday thinking:
'Ok! I'll take one hour for this, one for that.
'If I want to do this I have to leave away that!
'Now if I divide this day by half and subtract the amount of time I'm wasting in doing all of this I'll still be left with the terror of knowing that nature continues to chew. me. up.!"
She'd reached the end of her tirade, her chest heaving and her eyes blown wide. She stood before him now with her fists clenched so tight that her nails sliced into the flesh of her palms. Energy crackled all around her, like the air after a shot had been fired.
He lipped at the mouthpiece of his holder, his eyebrows knit together to crease the skin between them. He watched the way her body trembled, the strings of her muscles having been artfully by rage. What a good musician such a feeling was.
He didn't know what an 'Excel sheet' was, nor did he understand what she'd meant by the term 'phone' but he understood the key theme of her lamentation.
James took another drag and smiled, it didn't reach his eyes.
"And on we march to our inevitable end. You know," He tapped off the ashes and lifted his gaze, higher this time, to scrutinize one of the tree tops.
"I'm beginning to believe that you aren't the happiest of individuals."
She scoffed, her smile bitingly harsh. "Well, yeah.." Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared daggers at the ground beneath her feet.
"I am all that child me would have hated."
She raised her head, that severe expression of hers softening.
James lifted his brows to prompt her further.
"For one, I'm talking to you."
The jungle had gotten awfully still. Not a bird nor insect dared to call out, the breeze rustling through the leaves had become the only tether to their surroundings.
But it didn't remain that way for long.
James, despite himself, laughed.
And oh was it loud! One might do well to compare it to a bark!
He threw his head back against the stone; little coils of brown hair stuck to his forehead with a a few strands clinging to his flashed teeth. He opened his eyes and leaned towards her, his grin serving to warm his countenance for once.
"Oh, but tis the way of things, my dear!" He bellowed, interrupting himself with another chuckle.
"To grow up is to betray yourself and all you thought you knew."
He could practically feel the relief wash over her like the incoming tide.
"Did you have it?" She asked.
He gave it a thought, then nodded. "In a way, yes."
She fidgeted with her fingers, acutely aware of him and the discomfort that pouring ones heart out to another brings.
James's expression grew uncommonly soft; thoughts racing in his mind like a school of minnows. He took in a slow breath trough his nose and held the holder back to his lips.
A sly grin lifted the edges of his mustache and with a hum he replied:
"That, I will not answer."
"Well I am." She confessed, all shaking breath. She dug her heel into the soft ground below until it left an indent.
"Everything is changing so fast and- I want to live and experience the world."
She paused to wet her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. "But the world isn't what I thought it would be, it's people are not how I thought they would be and now I'm to scared to step into it because..what if it breaks me?"
There she stood and here he sat, regarding each other with an almost instinctual understanding.
They were but two animals crossing paths.
A young creature; so full of life that it threatened to spill over like a cup too full.
And one day, when it finally begins to trickle over the edge,
She will become what he is now.
James stamped his cigars out in the dirt, leaving the burnt out stumps to wither away with time. "It will." He said. "But doing nothing will lead to an entirely different destruction. So, either you step into it now or it will pull you in by force."
She had placed the pad of her thumb against her lips and stared at him with a newfound sensitivity.
"Ok..." Her voice shook and placing her palms over her eyes she took a deep breath. "Yeah, wow, this wasn't how I expected this night to go.."
"The feeling is mutual, my beauty, I assure you.." He muttered, keeping a stern eye on his boots.
She stood, lost in thought, distributing her weight from one leg to the other, then she began to walk. "I appreciate the pep talk…I really do..but even if I did scratch together the courage to…throw myself out there." Her hand found the base of one of the large trees surrounding them; fingers curling into the blanket of moss which wrapped itself around the bark. "I'm still stuck here until I want to go home."
"Would it help if I began to make your life here abysmal?" James offered.
She snorted, peering back at him over her shoulder, grinning. "I'd see myself forced to retaliate, my friend. Oh, by the way-" And then she returned to him, bending at the waist when she came at an arms reach.
"Can I have one of those cigars now?"
"Do forgive me, my Lady," James's tried to feign regret but how can he do so when confronted with the ghost of her sweet indignation ? His smile managed to crinkle the tip of his nose. "But I'm afraid those were my last."
She frowned and kissed her teeth but straightened herself back up, her hands splayed over her hips.
"Will you now?" He chuckled and upon noticing that she had renewed her retreat towards the treeline, he moved to stand. James hissed through his teeth as he splayed his hand atop the boulder to pull himself to his feet.
Brimstone and gall- his body ached.-
Furthermore, he became displeased to find proof of his previous suspicion- dirt had in-fact caked itself to his breeches. He scowled.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. "If we run into each other again, that is." There was a spark in her eyes, like the one he'd chipped loose from his flint and James hummed- mainly to himself- as he smoothed out his coat, running the flat of his hand over his embroidered vest.
"If you wish it." He said and dipped his head to her.
When he met her "I'm sorry for acting so smug earlier..I was scared." Her tone was soft, more than he was used to so far.
"Well if it's any consolation, I will refrain from pointing a pistol at you. So long as you hold true to that apology." James promised and held up his good hand as proof. And yet, in response to that his companion broke into a laugh.
"If you had that other hand your fingers would be crossed by now!" She jeered, pausing before she kicked a little stone his way, which skipped over leaf and twig before coming to a halt by the tip of James's boots. He lowered his head for a look at it, then raised it to meet her grin. He wasn't necessarily sure what came over him- but something compelled him to kick it back to her like a ball. "Seeing as I don't," James mused, trapping the stone beneath the sole of his boot.
"I am bound by oath." He grinned and, to prove his point, lifted the hook as well.
She giggled, pinching the bottom of her shirt and gesturing most elegantly with her free hand as she took a bow.
James followed her lead and bent at the waist, his execution far more refined.
And before he could stand up, she had begun her retreat, waving goodbye as she bounded through the underbrush.
The last thing James saw of her was the crown of her head and he stayed, watching, until she disappeared into the night.
James didn't know which parts she would end up in next.
Perhaps she'll wander the coastline, laughing like a gull.
Maybe peril will catch up to her through the maul of an animal, or a sure shot from one of Pan's boys.
James stepped back and bent down, picking up the stone before holding it up to the dim light of the moon which had trickled through the leaves.
Upon closer inspection, he found that she had kicked him a calcified sea shell. The dirt which clung to it's dent's and ridges gave it a rusted appearance which remained even as he rubbed his thumb over it.
It was debatable, wether they would see each other again-
He clasped his fingers around the shell and stuffed it into his pocket.
But then again, the island had a talent for enabling the impossible.
°‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡ ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ °‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡
This was just me yapping for 7K words thank you for your time! 🫡
You're wearing juicy couture shorts and Orchid merch because I said so, be grateful that I didn't chose to stick you in socks and sandals on top of that.
