"She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something."

~ Rainbow Rowell

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Ray's P.O.V

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    I wake up a few hours before daybreak. There's not much light in the tent but I can still sense that Alice is sleeping somewhere near me. I stare straight ahead, waiting for my eyes to get used to the dim lighting. I jerk back when my eyes come into focus. Less than two inches away of my face, is Alice's face. Her eyes are closed and her brown hair falls in waves, covering one eye.

    I watch as her chest slowly rises and falls as she inhales and exhales. Her breathing is even and calm, matching mine. Suddenly, a strong breeze blows through the slit in the tent flap, sending a shiver down my spine. I pull the blanket up to my waist. Alice then snuggles closer to me, probably for warmth.

    She shivers due to the cold air, and I pull her closer to my body, using my body heat to warm her delicate frame. Her head lies against my chest and my chin is resting atop of her head. Alice stops shivering and nuzzles her face closer to my chest. I smile. This feels right somehow, our bodies next to each other. They fit together in all the right places, like pieces of a puzzle.

    I close my eyes and invite the good dreams with open arms.

****

    Alice is no longer in my bed when I wake up. The faint smell of roses and mint fill my nostrils as I breathe in. Alice's shampoo. I wasn't surprised when she told me that roses were her favorite flower, they mirror her personality. Fierce and sassy, eye-catching and bold, delicate and beautiful all at once. Alice, the girl who reads books as one would breathe air, to live.

    I love how she always finds the time to read to the younger Lost Boys. I admire how she can use nothing but words to create a beautiful image in my mind. Like when she describes a garden during spring time, or when she describes her old life in the city, in the modern England.

    I love it when she tells me stories about her favorite quotations. Maybe our favorite quotations say more about us than the stories and people we're quoting. And I love what her favorite quotations are saying about her at the moment.

    Although I'm not sure what scares me the most, that she'll never love me the way I love her or that I'll never stop loving her. I suppose they're both are equally terrifying in their own ways. Even if all we'll ever be is just friends, I'll still take that.

    Because even if you can't be with someone you love, isn't it good enough to be friends with them so you'll be able to protect them from people who don't deserve them?

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Alice's P.O.V

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    I bring my hand back and thrust the knife forward. The familiar sound of metal on wood tells me that I've hit my target. I remove my blindfold to see how accurate my shots are.
    "Yes!" I exclaim. "I hit three bullseyes while blindfolded."
    "That was a lucky shot," Peter says, pointing at the knife.

    "I don't suppose you can do better?" I challenge, placing my hands on my hips.
    "As a matter of fact, I can," he replies arrogantly.
    I hand the blindfold to him and he ties it around his head. He then raises his hand and uses magic to remove the knives from the board. The knives land hilt up on the tree stump next to us.

    Peter grabs the nearest knife and brings it back, then he throws it. It lands in the second ring with a thunk. Grabbing the next knife, he repeats the action again and gets the same results. But for the last throw, he loosens his grip on the knife a second too early and misses the target entirely. Peter removes the blindfold, and faces me. He's probably going to gloat.

    "Told you I could do better," he says.
    I scoff and point at the knife embedded in the soil. "You didn't even hit the target for your last throw."
    Peter spins around and stares at the knife in disbelief.
    I shake my head. He gloats before he even sees his score. What an arrogant asshat. I can't say I'm surprised, it's Peter.

    "Who would've thought that I'd be better than you at throwing knives?" I say, grinning.
    "Laugh all you want, I still have my magic," Peter says.
    I nod my head and tighten my grip on the knife in my hand.
    "Can your magic do this?" I ask, bringing the blade to his face, an inch away from his eye at the word "this".

    "No," Peter replies calmly. "But it can do this."
    He takes a step back and I find myself unable to move any part of my body. "Always be prepared."
    "Hey, that's cheating!" I exclaim.
    "No it isn't," he says, unfreezing me. "It's totally and completely fair."
    I huff, crossing my hands.
    "Aww, is someone mad?" he asks, smirking as he wraps his arm around my waist.

    "No, I'm totally and completely fine," I say, rolling my eyes.
    "Do you remember what I told you about cheaters?" he asks.
    I nod my head.
    "Well?"
    "Cheaters never win," I say.
    "And I won, therefore I'm not a cheater."
    I make a very unintelligible noise. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

    "But I won, didn't I?"
    "Yeah, can you let go of me now?" I ask.
    "Not until you tell me who won."
    I sigh. "You win, Peter. You always win."
    He kisses my forehead. "Good girl."
    "Now can you let go of me?" I ask.
    "What, can't a guy hold his girl?" Peter asks.

    "I'm not your girl," I say. "You haven't won the game yet."
    "Such the eternal optimist," Peter says, letting go of me.
    "Don't worry, I will win this game, and then I'll be able to hold you whenever I want," he says.
    "Now who's being an eternal optimist?"
    "I am an optimistic person."

    "You're as optimistic as a pessimist," I say.
    "Isn't that redundant?"
    "Kinda."
    "Conversations with you are never boring."
    "Is it because I'm so unbelievably witty?" I ask, flipping my hair over my shoulder.
    "No, it's because you're so random."

    "Same difference."
    "Those two words are oxymorons."
    "So what?"
    "This conversion is pointless."
    "Yes it is, I'm surprised it took you this long to figure that out."
    "Where were you last night?" he asks, changing the subject.
    I blink. "What?"

    "Where were you? You weren't in the tree house when I came back last night," he says.
    "Oh. Um, I was with Ray."
    "Ray?"
    "Yes, why? Is that a problem?"
    "I think it's time for a break, let's go back to camp."
    "That's what I thought."

****

    We walk down the path back to the campsite in comfortable silence.
    "What will we be doing tomorrow?" I ask.
    "We'll be playing "Hide And Seek" again," he replies.

    I nod. "Has anyone ever surprised you before?"
"Pardon?"

    "Has anyone ever caught you off guard? Or did something that you wouldn't expect them to do?" I elaborate.
    "No," Peter says, shaking his head. "No, it's never happened before."
    "Well you might be surprised at the outcome of your Game," I tell him.
    "We shall see, Alice," he says "We shall see."

    "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised," I say, pinning him against a tree with my dagger at the word "surprised".
    I smirk. "Always be prepared," I say, throwing his own words back at him.
    "I was wondering when you'd do that," Peter says, completely unfazed.
    "Come on," I say. "You couldn't possibly have known that I'd do this."

    "On the contrary, I did. You're quite predictable," he replies.
    "Really?"
    "Yes, that's why it's so easy for me to so this," Peter says, flipping me over so that he's pinning me against the tree.
    "Could you at least pretend to be surprised? My self esteem is plummeting to Tartarus," I say.

    "Isn't Taurus like a black hole?" he asks, taking a step back.
    "No, it's the deepest, darkest part of hell."
    "Basically a black hole?"
    "Yes, black, like your soul."
    "Ouch," Peter says with a mock hurt look. "That hurt."
    "Suck it up, Peter."
    "I believe that's your job."

    I stare at him with my mouth agape. "You did not just say that."
    "Oh yes, I did," he replies, smirking. Probably at how ridiculous I must look.
    I flip him off.

    Now it's his turn to stare at me in shock.
    "One more smart remark like that and swear to God, I'll—"
    "Alice! Alice!" interrupts two voices in unison.
    I turn around to see Asa and Isaac, running towards us. And not far behind them is Cassie, desperately trying to catch up with the twins.

    I kneel down so that I'm roughly the same height as them. "Hello, boys! How was training?"
    "Fun! Felix taught us how to tell the difference between po-i-son-ous plants and plants that are safe to eat!" Isaac exclaims, taking his time to pronounce the word "poisonous".
    "He said that the colourful ones are bad and the plain ones are good," Asa adds.

    I nod and ruffle up Cassie's hair. "Have you two been watching out for Cassie?"
    "Yes, mummy," the twins chorus, nodding their heads enthusiastically.
    I'm taken aback at their reply but I quickly regain my peace of mind.
    "Have they been behaving, Cassie?" I ask.
    Cassie smiles and nods his head.

    "You'll tell us bedtime stories again, won't you mummy?" Isaac asks.
    "Of course, Isaac," I say, smiling back at him. "Now run along, I'll see you boys again at the bonfire tonight."
    They nod their heads and run off.

    "Mummy, huh?"
    "Oh, shut up," I say, hitting him in the chest. "I think it's cute."
    "I think that you'll make a good mother to the younger boys."
    "Well I've had plenty of experience with immature boys."
    Peter looks at me with a confused expression.
    "I'm talking about you, you moron."

    "What day is it today? Insult Peter Day?"
    "Sadly, no. Cause' if it were, I'd actually try to insult you."
    "So you haven't been trying?"
    "Not at all."
    He shakes his head. "I don't believe that for a second."

****

    "Are the boys asleep?" Peter asks as I enter the room.
    "Yup," I say, yawning. "I was beginning to think that they'd never go to sleep."
    "Well who can possibly fall asleep when you're telling one of your amazing stories?" he says, sitting up on the bed, his bare chest showing.

    "You listen to me telling the boys bedtime stories?" I ask, getting under the covers with him.
    "Yeah. Like I told you before, I have eyes and ears all around my island," he says, placing his hands behind his head, leaning against the headboard.
    "So you have the Bloodlust Trio spy on me?" I ask, turning my head to face him.
    "Not just them."

    "Do you do spy on all your Lost Boys?"
    "No, just you."
    "Wow, I feel so special."
    He laughs. "Get used to it."
    "Yeah," I say rolling my eyes. "Cause' it's a real pleasure."
    "I'll be giving you that when I win the game," he says smugly.

    I throw my pillow at him.

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I'm sorry if you find this chapter boring, it's just a filter. Tell me what you thought about it. My dm is always open if you guys wanna fangirl about this book. (Or any other book)

I've made a decision, I'm going to try and update this fanfic twice or thrice a week. (I'll probably give up half-way and just update once a week)

Well, I'm gonna read The Blood Of Olympus now, bye 👋

~ Alice xx

P.s. I apologise for how uncreative the titles of my chapters are. I have no creativity whatsoever...

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How many ships are there in this book? (I really wanna know) There must a few of them by now

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Vote, comment, rate, do whatever you want <3

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Edited: 23.11.2017