#sourpaws

“Hey, Wendy-bird,” he whispers, his lips against her ear.

“Peter,” she breathes, pushing away to look at his face. Even after seeing it in various crowds for months, it’s astounding how much he’s changed. Maybe he thinks she’s different now, too.

Wendy runs a hand along his cheek, down to his chin. “Ouch,” she jokes, fingers brushing over poorly shaven stubble. 

He rolls his eyes. “Tell me about it. It’s terrible.”

Her hand still holding his chin, she tilts his face down to give him a quick peck on the lips. “Not so terrible.”

“Ohhhh, you like it?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

The corner of his mouth twitches before he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her in for a more sure kiss.

Her arms wind around his neck and she almost doesn’t notice how he untucks her school blouse from her uniform skirt.

“Peter…”

“Yes?”

Her hand finds his, Peter’s thumb hooked on the top of her skirt, and pulls him away. Wendy ducks her head down so his lips can’t find hers.

“You can’t just…”

“Just what?”

She looks him in the eyes now, hers harder than before, even if looking at him still causes a stutter in her chest. “You can’t just leave for half a year and then expect me to pretend nothing’s changed.”

“Nothing has changed!” He says indignantly, so much like a child fighting for his dessert after breaking his mother’s rules.

“They have.” She drops his hands and hugs herself around her middle. “I have.”

“Well, I haven’t.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

Wendy knows how this goes, this fighting with Peter thing. She doesn’t want to do it, not when kissing him just a moment ago felt so much better than anything she’s done over the past six months. But she’s not that girl, the one who lets the guy do whatever he wants without any consequences. Rules and punishments are her entire foundation.

“It’s good to see you again. I’m glad you’re back. But don’t expect me to open my bedroom window for you tonight. We can’t go back to the way things used to be just like that.”

Peter looks at her for a long while, his expression too hard for her to decipher. Finally, he says, “S’all right. I was going to see Tink tonight, anyways.”

Maybe he’s right. Maybe nothing has changed. She hates how just hearing that name makes her eyes water. “If that’s what you want.”

He hears the waver in her voice and a brief second of regret flashes in his eyes. “Can we do something tomorrow night?”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”