❝When you're feet don't touch the earth, you can't feel the things that hurt.
And you're free. There's no need to come down.❞

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CHAPTER THREE:

WHEN YOUR FEET DON'T TOUCH THE GROUND

                        A pair of calculating, mischievous eyes followed the girl as she tried to push her way out of the ballroom with some obvious difficulties. He hid in the night and keenly watched the scene through one of the windows located around the spacious room. Amused chuckles escaped his lips as her slender body slipped between the crowd of men and women — who were still dancing to the slow rhythm of the music — and bumped into some of them in the process. After a while, however, the girl grew tired of apologizing and merely kept on walking through the mass of bodies. There was an annoyed frown plastered on her cream-colored features, and her lips were pursed into a grimace, which would become more noticeable whenever a man stopped her to ask her for yet another dance. She, determined to leave that luxurious place, denied each and every offer with a mere glance that clearly said "in your dreams".

It had to be one of the most comical situations he, whose forest-green eyes glowed in amusement, had seen her stuck into. Her hands gripped the fabric of the blue dress tightly, her knuckles white and giving away the impression she was about to tear the cloth apart. Her discomfort was evident, spread across every inch of her: from her furrowed features to the clumsy sway of her feet.

"Emery."

The distressed girl bit back a groan when the stern voice of her adoptive mother reached her. Drawing a forced smile on her face, she turned around to greet Snow White, whose dress was of a dark shade of purple.

"I'm honoured," Emery mused in a flat voice. "To think you have time to waste on me; being so famous, royal and all... I genuinely expected no special treatment."

The features of the woman narrowed at her rude bluntness — Snow looked outright unpleased by her attitude, as usual.

"Stop acting this way, Emery. I know you're not like this."

A wicked glint shone in her brown eyes then, and her lips tugged into a sneer as said girl lowered her voice and managed to put the raven locks of Snow on end.

"You know nothing about me," Emery hissed. Then, all of sudden, any trace of malice was gone and a weak smile replaced the snarl on her mouth. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. I'm afraid I am just very tired, and exhaustion has finally gotten to me."

Even though her apology seemed truthful, Snow remained wary. It was not the first time such uncharacteristically terrifying expression touched her face, but the woman let it slip — if only to avoid making a scene and alarm her guests.

"I understand," she replied as her eyes searched her face. "You've been dancing throughout the night."

Emery successfully bit back a sarcastic comment; after all, said fact hadn't been the consequences of her choices. "May I retire to my room?"

Fortunately, Snow White didn't deny her petition and let her abandon the ballroom. Without sparing another glance at her surroundings, Emery rushed to her quarters. Her heels clattered loudly as she climbed the stairs, and she cringed; she loathed making loud noises while walking, for anyone would be able to track her down if so they wished.

In fact, had she paused to listen to her surroundings, she would have most likely realized that she was being followed.

Only when the safety provided by her room surrounded her and the door was slammed shut, did Emery stop to take a deep breath. One quick look around notified her about the absence of the fairy, who — she ventured to bet — would be worlds away. It would be a matter of time before Tinkerbell burst in through the open window, fuming in anger because Emery had fled the ballroom and Snow White's kindness at the very first opportunity.

"Like I care," she muttered under her breath.

The same forest-green eyes that had been observing her ever since she had stepped into the crowded room followed her as she huffed in disdain and stomped towards her bed. They watched, amused, as she took off the heels and angrily threw them across the room, before she began to pull on the tiepins attached to her brown hair.

Now, that's more like it, he thought with a smirk as he kept his gaze on her.

A relieved sigh left her lips as the ribbons dropped to the floor and her hair was free of their hold, and she ran her fingers through its waves to relish in the feeling further. Unfortunately for her, the following step wasn't so easy to accomplish. She tried to take her dress off, to rip it from her body; but as much as her hands pulled and tugged on the long sleeves, it soon became evident that it was a pointless fight against the tight fabric. Thus, after letting out a frustrated scream, Emery plopped herself down on the bed and crossed her arms over her chest.

A deep chuckle reverberated through the room.

"That was not very ladylike."

Emery was immediately on her feet, hand clutching the small dagger she always carried around. Her eyes squinted through the darkness of the room in search of the owner of the voice, but what she didn't expect was for them to suddenly appear behind her.

"Boo."

Out of instinct, Emery whipped around and thrusted the dagger towards the familiar silhouette. However, her wrist was caught mid-way and the item only managed to puncture the front of the green shirt they wore.

"Nice reflexes."

The lights flickered on magically, and Emery's assumptions were soon confirmed. An easy smile was drawn on his lips, and an enthusiastic glint glowed in those eyes she had grown so used to seeing. She knew the boy was no much older than her, but his face showed no sign of the innocence that any ordinary teen would hold. Not that hers did, anyway; her features were sharply sculpted and displayed the strong, cunning character that breathed inside. Her brown gaze held no mercy, yet shades of playfulness always gleamed in it.

Her lips stretched into a grin at the same time that she was released.

"I wasn't expecting you tonight," she confessed while putting the dagger back into its sheath.

"I would never miss such an opportunity to have a good laugh," he replied, sending her a teasing smirk as she rolled her eyes.

"You're an ass, Peter Pan."

Peter Pan grinned, not fazed by her insult; in fact, he seemed pleased.

"No need for compliments, Emery." He waved a hand in the air. "So, have you found the so-called true love that woman won't stop talking about?"

Emery shook her head. "No one seemed interesting enough. They all are too refined." She looked at him and frowned. "You're doing it again, Peter."

He raised an eyebrow. "Doing what?"

"Flying — don't you notice when your feet don't touch the ground?" Emery sighed out of frustration; she was so very jealous of his magic.

Peter Pan gave her a long stare as his mind travelled back in time, to the very first time he flew.

Peter stared with wide eyes as she grinned down at him. As her small frame floated in the air, he found himself unable to utter a word, his mouth agape. Emery could see the emotions fighting in his eyes and was pleased to catch a glimpse of eagerness hiding behind the sea of confusion and stupor. And just because she loved to show off, she twirled and propelled her body upwards. As soon as his shock faded, Peter watched in amazement as she flew towards the bluest sky before letting her body fall backwards to land on the branch of a tree.

"Come on, Peter! Don't you want to join me?" Her mischievous voice cut through the air. But she didn't wait for him to reply, as his eyes told her all she needed to know. "All you need is faith, trust and..."

Peter was caught off guard when the girl suddenly rushed to him, hands behind her back. However, before he could react and take a step back, Emery pulled something from her pocket and blew it in his face. As he coughed loudly and tried to get the dust out of his nose, her loud laugh echoed through the deep forest.

"What was that?!" he demanded to know after finally recovering.

Emery turned towards him and winked before commenting in a duh voice, "A little bit of pixie dust."

Of course, Peter couldn't even begin to understand what that 'pixie dust' was, but he didn't try to find an explanation he would never get. Instead, he glared at the girl as she kept flying around him, as if she were enjoying the jealousy building up in his heart.

"Now, what?" he asked, unable to hide his annoyance and eagerness.

"Think of a wonderful thought, any merry little thought," she sang, and Peter was given the impression it wasn't the first time she spoke those words. "Think of wonderful things and you shall navigate the sky."

And think Peter did, but to no avail. Honestly, the boy didn't have any of those things — thoughts, memories or moments; not happy ones that could bring a smile to his face, at least. He never met his mother, and his father had abandoned him at the age of six; Peter had been on his own ever since. He was a street rat. There was no place to which he could return every night when the moon occupied the dark sky, no family waiting for him with open arms, no friends to spend the days with; he had no home. The closest thing to it was the empty, burned-to-pieces house he had found some years ago, which was not a lot, but he had grown used to living there. Every day, he would watch as people walked by, immersed in their own world and sending him nothing but disgusted glances and grimaces.

The fact had never affected him that much, for he didn't know any other way of living. However, as he looked at the girl, who was observing him in expectation and wonder, the weight of all those painful memories shook him from head to toe. Peter didn't know what to say; he didn't want her pity nor did he wish to hear her kind words. But, at the same time, he was afraid to be left alone — again.

Much to his surprise though, Emery suddenly approached him. The way she looked at him managed to make his heart flutter; there was a glint of sympathy taking over the mischief that always glowed in her gaze. She seemed to understand him like no one else had been able to, and the thought lightened his aching chest. Her eyes stared into his, searching inside his soul. And it was then, when he realized that she didn't just seem to read him like an open book; she was, in fact, reading him.

All of sudden, her eyes darkened and he was thrown into a pool of emptiness. His mind flew to her as if it were being absorbed, before he found himself standing before a different scene. Images of boys with similar lost expression on their dirty faces brought forth a feeling of empathy to his heart, and he soon understood what he was seeing. They were scenes of daily routines in Emery's life, all of them similar and different at the same time. Just like it had happened to him some minutes ago, a boy would show up somewhere in the island, confused and disoriented. And just like it had happened to him, Emery would appear from nowhere and start to lead them into a world of wondrous phenomes and magic until they lost themselves into that land of fascinating ideas — and no longer were they lonely souls; they were free.

"Many have come to Neverland," Emery spoke from what seemed to be leagues away. "Many children with difficult lives just like yours, and all of them left knowing there was a place they could finally call home."

Even though Emery looked a child, she surely had a way with words. In fact, it wasn't that hard to believe; if only one took into consideration that time stood still and had been that way for centuries. Within that small body, an old soul lived — one that had witnessed more that Emery would ever admit.

"Show me happiness, Peter; show me your merriest memory," she demanded, her voice stern, as his mind was placed back into his body.

And that he did. He thought of the most wonderful moment in his life, the most valuable and the most delightful. And Emery took it in her hands.

A gasp left his mouth as he felt how his heart started to beat furiously, and every inch of him seemed to be wrapped in the warmest embrace.

"What's going on?" he breathed out after long minutes during which he had felt how that glee grew stronger, how his whole body burst in flames of bliss. Peter was sure he had never felt something like that, and could have sworn it was almost like...

Her fingers touched the corners of his mouth and tugged to form a smile, and she grinned while ignoring his sudden fluster.

"When there's a smile in your heart... there's no better time to start," Emery sang again before raising off the earth. "Now, follow me!"

...like he was flying.

"Peter!"

Emery waved a hand before his eyes, effectively snapping him out of it. His stare was unreadable as he looked at her, but somehow, it managed to make her heart whisper. Sending her a gleeful grin after a moment of hesitation, the teen ended up changing the topic.

"So, you're telling me that you're looking for someone interesting," he drawled as he sat in the air. Then, he smirked mischievously. "Am I intriguing enough to you?"

Emery gave him a blank stare. "Don't be so full of yourself. Besides, I'm looking for no man, even if everyone seems unable to understand that."

Laughter responded her, and Peter Pan rolled over in the air in delight.

Emery huffed and pinched the brick of her nose, but said no more; instead, she turned around and jumped on the bed. Her eyes drifted towards Peter, who was carelessly floating around the room and rummaging through her things.

Aside from Tinkerbell, that boy was the closest thing to a family she had, and thus she treasured him heartily. Just like the relationship she shared with the fairy, the roots of their friendship could be traced back to her early teens — for some reason, she couldn't remember anything about her infancy.

She remembered that, one day like any other, Emery had found herself staring into the night sky, tracing paths over the bright stars with her eyes. And before she could see him coming, Peter Pan was standing in front of her. The same way he was now flying around in search of something that could pick up his interest, the boy had opened wardrobes and poked behind the bed until finally turning towards her speechless face. The remembrance of the smile he wore in that cold night was still fresh in her mind, for it was the sweetest she had ever seen.

"What new adventures have you gotten yourself into, Peter?" Emery asked, a content smile on her lips as she reluctantly pushed those memories to the back of her mind in order to focus on the moment.

Peter Pan flew over and sat down in front of her. There was an excited expression decorating his dirty features as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"But first, do something about this," she quickly added while pointing to the uncomfortable dress she still wore.

Peter arched a brow at the demand, but shrugged it off and complied, twirling a hand in the air. Magically, the blue cloth was replaced by a more suitable nightgown, soft to the touch and of a beautiful shade of green — her favourite one. Then, as she closed her eyes like she usually did, Peter jumped into the tale of his newest adventure. And as the ball continued some floors below, the voice of Peter Pan led her to Neverland, where she soon found herself battling against brainless pirates and swimming with the vicious mermaids.