time to take your medicine {matthew!}

[wendy]

Addison narrowed her eyes ever so slightly. “I always pick good ones.” She gave a quiet huff, subconsciously moving the glass of water a few centimeters away from Matthew. It was hardly a noticeable difference; especially as she hadn’t even noticed the movement. Then again, she thought all of the stories she made up or read out loud were good ones. Addison never noticed Matthew’s distaste for certain stories. Did he have a problem with some of them? Addison started to lower her arm, thinking about it. Perhaps she got too into her stories. It would have been smart if she paid more attention to her audience. That way, she couldn’t adjusted as she went. Yes, that was something she was going to start doing. Maybe she’d pick one that most boys wouldn’t like. Just to test out her new plan.

Addison rolled her eyes. Of course he would complain! “ I actually ga—” She paused, remembering that she hadn’t planned on telling him that. Addison shook her head, dismissing the comment. “Never mind.” He grabbed the medicine from her quickly and she almost expected him to down it. He paused, though, and she shot him a confused look. What was he doing? You never paused while taking medicine! You didn’t look at it and smell it or question it. You just… took it. Addison had a strange desire to laugh at his misfortune but it was brief and gone before she could even question it. Seeing Matthew take medicine was a bit strange, actually. She’d never expected him to give into it. He snatched the glass of water as quickly as he’d grabbed the medicine. Oh… “Sorry.”

He gave her a smug smile and she grinned back, deciding it was best to not roll her eyes at him. She’d known he could do it all along. It just took a bit of convincing and deal-making. It just took four stories. Well, at least now she knew how to get him to take medicine. Then again, she wasn’t sure how she’d managed to get him tangled up in his sheets again. Speaking of… Addison looked over the mess, wondering where to start. She’d untangled many knots before. This shouldn’t be too difficult… There might be an issue of personal space once or twice but what did that matter in the long run? Working in a thoughtful silence, Addison first worked on the knots that he’d only made worse near his knees. “Only you would make it this bad,” she said, sounding amused.

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

Matt rolled his eyes at Addison's huffing. "Most of the time," he offered with a grumble, unwilling to discuss the topic fruther. Even the thought of a stupid love story made his skin crawl more than he'd ever like it too.

Shrugging at the mention of the word "Nevermind" (and only because medicine was involved. Had it been any other scenario, she would have been pounded with questions), Matt thought nothing more of what she'd been about to say. How could he, with that stuff right there in front of him? All things considered, it wasn't half as bad as it could've been. Or should've been. Then again, he'd probably forget all about the "not so bad" aspect once the next time he had to take medicine rolled around. Which would be never.

Matt couldn't help but squirm away slightly the closer Addison got to undoing the knots in the sheets, if not because of her invasion into his personal bubble but for the discomfort of having to come to terms with the fact that he couldn't un-knot himself. Although he could have. Definitely. Given more time. It was probably really simple, actually. "And what's that supposed to mean?" he snapped defensively once the tightness round his knees had been reduced. Wriggling quite expertly, Matt extracted himself from the things soon enough, grin growing ever wider as he was finally released from the cotton prison.

"Oh, the cleverness of me!" he exclaimed as he sat up with his back against the bed. The effort of it all was causing his face to flush slightly, although he seemed a bit less wobbly, even sitting down. He sighed, wiping his forehead once with the back of his hand. "Are you gonna read now?" the eagerness in his voice was unmistakable; had he been in full health, there was no doubt he would have been near bouncing.

[wendy]

All of the time, she insisted to herself, taking the cap and putting it back on the medicine bottle. She set it aside and continued working at the knots, sincerely wondering how it could’ve gotten like this. It was as if the sheets had taken on a life of their own. Perhaps it was a revenge type of thing since Matthew probably never changed them. It really didn’t matter how it’d gotten like this, just how she was going to get him out. Twice, she started to undo one tangle only for another to start up elsewhere. It was always one big knot in the long run, evidently.

Addison shrugged. “Just that I’ve never seen such a tangled mess.” It was hardly meant to be offensive and she was sure he wouldn’t take it as such. Addison had hardly finished undoing the knots around his knee, though she was quite close, when he startled to squirm. She shot him a glare and pulled her hands back. It was either that she was frustrated he wouldn’t let her finish or that she grew tired of his impatience. One or the other. Addison sat back, waiting for him to either make it worse or free himself completely. It was the latter.

Addison looked at him with raised eyebrows, folding her arms over her chest. Of him? Addison grabbed the medicine and the empty class and stood, “of course, I did nothing.” (There was a most strange sense of déjà vu following this comment, though she easily dismissed it). Returning to the kitchen, Addison put the medicine away and refilled the glass. She scooped up her stories in one arm and joined Matthew. “Why wouldn’t I?” She asked, giving him a curious look. Addison set the glass down on his nightstand and then took a seat on the end of his bed. “I’m not going back on a deal!” She set the books down, “go ahead, you get first pick.”

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

"Yeah? Well..." Matt paused halfway through what he'd planned to be an extraordinary comeback, only to realize that paerhaps she hadn't been insulting him at all. "That's probably just because no one can do anything like me," there was a sense of pride in his voice; it was probably strange, to think himself special for being able to tangle himself so hopelessly among bedsheets, but that was Matt. If he was going to get twisted and knotted beyond belief, he was going to be the best at getting twisted and knotted beyond belief.

Watching with the same triumphant smile on his face, Matt shrugged, contemplating her decleration. He bit his lip. "Well, you did a little..." there. He could give that that much, but nothing more. After all, he'd been the one to get out of the mess in the long run. She took credit for his accomplishments all too often, in Matt's not-so-humble opinion, and at times like these it got immensely aggravating.

Matt snatched the filled glass from the night stand, chugging half of its contents greedily. There was still something tangy in the back of his mouth, something that didn't quite sit right on the throat and tasted obnoxiously of that demonic stuff she'd made him take. "I donno," it was a good question. " 'Cause you like causing me pain?" he teased with a scrunching of his face and a highly exhaggerated coughing fit.

Slowly--although still faster than before--Matt eased himelf back onto the bed, flopping down onto the pillow with his arms crossed behind his head and feet resting in the opposite corner of the bed from Addison. Once he heard that she was letting him pick what to read, however, Matt shot up like a bullet; probably not the best idea, as the room seemed to spin for a moment afterwards. He crawled the distance to Addison, looking every bit the part of a small child on Christmas morning. "Okay. How about....That one!" he pointed to a copy of Peter Pan with a sort of impish glint in his eyes. He nodded again, sealing his decision. "It's my favorite."

[wendy]

Addison giggled. How had she known? Still, being friends with somebody for so many years made them a bit predictable. It wasn’t like she could tell him this, though. Heavens no! She was sure Matthew would be none too pleased if she said he was predictable. “Right, exactly.” She agreed, because that much was true. He was always the best at whatever he did, obvious by his tree climbing and sneaking out skills. Then again, those were compared to her and she wasn’t very good at either of them. She rolled his eyes, not letting on that she was a bit pleased to have received some credit. Addison shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d take it all for himself; perhaps he wasn’t as predictable as she thought he was.

Addison scoffed, grabbing one of her storybooks and flipping through it. She’d learned early that lugging around a bunch of them was too big a hassle. So, she’d taken to making copies of the pages and binding them together. In this one book alone, she had five different stories. It may not have seemed like much, but these were longer stories. In the other, she had quite a few more and then there were just chapters from a few choice books. Addison had found this to be very clever; it made her life easier, anyway. She had yet to even consider those ebook things. “I give you a tiny little bit of medicine and suddenly I like causing you pain.” She shook her head, grinning. “That makes all the sense in the world.”

He sat up so quickly, she thought she’d fall off of the bed in her surprise. She stayed steady enough, though, and was not at all shocked when he chose Peter Pan. Of course she knew it was his favorite. It was also one of hers. It was why it was the first one in her homemade book. “Alright,” she said, setting the other down to grab this one. Addison was sure anybody else who looked through these would be terribly confused. She’d set it up in a way that only she really understood. Addison flipped through it, trying to find a good part. Of course, all of it was good. But she didn’t have time for it all as she still had to read four more stories. Addison passed it to Matthew, “go ahead and pick your favorite part.”

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

He did quite like the sound of Addison's laugh. Well, anyone's laughter, really, so long as they were laughing at the things he did; just as long as it wasn't a mocking sort of laugh, but a pleased one. Friendly. He was well aware that he lived a life of hunting for attention in one way or another but that was just it: he didn't much care if others looked down on him for it. It was still something, wasn't it? And besides, people hardly ever gave him grief for his antics (well, save adults people governed by stupidity and stupidity alone), least of all Addison. Matt couldn't help himself; he beamed under her praise, even knowing full well she was only confirming his statement of concrete fact.

Matt had always loved Addison's handmade books, ever since she'd first showed him one a few years ago. They were strange, different, unique, and therefore very much worth his time. In fact, he preferred Addison's story-book-packet contraptions much more than the average leather-bound novel nowadays, if simply because sometimes you never knew what you would find. Not that he'd ever told her this, of course--Matthew was hardly one to dish out praise lightly--but it was probably evident enough by the way his face lit up every time she made even the slightest move to bring them out. Matt made sure to throw her a rather scrunched-up face before responding almost condescendingly. Well, only almost. It was more of a matter-of-fact sort of voice, really. "Medicine is pain, Addie. Anyone who says differently is an idiot. You should be honored to be sitting in the presence of such a noble warrior," he crossed his arms over his chest and nodded in a manner he clearly deemed regal, nodding once as he looked down on her from over his nose.

The stance lasted all of five seconds, however, before Matt was peering over the books again, eagerness written all over his face. He snatched Peter Pan from her without so much as a nod (although the smile he had was thanks enough), and began flipping rapidly through its pages. Of course, he already knew the thing from back to front, he'd heard and read it so many times (it was the only book he could stand to sit down and read, after all), but if asked to retell his favorite bits and pieces, they always seemed to change a bit. Usually, in favor of Peter's bravery and skill. It made it more exciting. "Here. Read this part," he demanded, thrusting the book back under her nose with his thumb under the chapter title, called "The Mermaid's Lagoon."

ooc: /was totally not watching the Princess Bride while typing this.... "Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something." >.<

[wendy]

For one who smiled so much, Addison should’ve grown used to Matthew’s smile by now. She hadn’t, though. Sometimes it just made her day a little bit better and sometimes her stomach erupted with butterflies. She could count on his smile alone to beat away a bad mood. It was silly and she’d told herself that often enough, but it didn’t seem to matter. So what if she really liked his smile? It wasn’t like it was a big deal or anything. Addison shook her head, pushing the thoughts away. She needed to focus. Addison needed to get into story-telling mode. Of course, she could tell a story anytime anywhere. It was easy. However, reading to Matthew was different. His attention was easily stolen by something else. She had to really tell the story to keep him interested. Besides, this was Peter Pan. It wasn’t like she couldn’t not get into it.

Addison fidgeted with the other storybook, flipping through. A page caught her attention for a short moment and she began to read it, distracted. It was from Harry Potter. That’s right. This was the one with her favorite Harry Potter books. Addison closed it, glancing up at Matthew. She did get to choose one of the stories… Addison wondered briefly just what he thought of her homemade storybooks. He’d never actually told her, but she was quite sure she had it figured out anyway. Matthew always seemed more-than-usual pleased when she pulled them from her bookshelf or backpack. This made her feel quite proud of her job well done. The first attempt at making such a book had turned out miserably; the copied pages had faded font and she hadn’t bound it correctly and… Well, that hardly mattered anymore. Addison rolled her eyes, grinning. “Of course. How could I think it was anything but?” Addison shifted, laughing again. “I am honored.” She gave him a look that asked why she wouldn’t be.

Addison watched as he flipped through the book, wondering just which part he would pick. She had no preference, really. She loved the entire book. After a moment, he pushed it back at her, pointing to “The Mermaid’s Lagoon.” Addison nodded, taking the book. “Alright. Chapter eight it is.” Addison loved going into story mode. Everything changed and yet nothing changed. She wasn’t sure how it worked but it was her absolute favorite. She always tried to build it up, waiting to really do her very best until a certain part. It was impossible, though! She couldn’t go without reading all of it with enthusiasm. So, while she tried to start off “The Mermaid’s Lagoon” with an almost bored tone, it hardly made it passed the first paragraph. Addison continued on, her eyes lit up excitedly.

And quite suddenly, Addison leapt up, wobbling a bit on the bed, clutching her book. “Pirates!” she exclaimed before continuing to read, still standing on, albeit shaky, legs.

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

Matt loved a lot of things, but this book most of all. Which was really saying quite a bit, as he wasn't one to show affection towards things that never changed. Of course, to him, Peter Pan never really did stay the same; he could recite the the thing forwards, backwards, and upside down (a feat he claimed to have once attempted successfully), but not once the same way twice. Usually it was just little things that changed, like Peter using different words or saving more people than in actuality, but occasionally Matt liked to throw in other small details with which to "clarify" the story. Sometimes it meant that inbetween chapters he gave a lowdown on what was "actually" happening in Neverland at the time (while insulting that Barrie fellow for not including any of the other stories he mentioned throughout the book), or at the very least, more exhaggerated versions of the chapters Addison was already reading.

Matt was already on the edge of his seat within the first word. Gosh, he loved Addison's stories. As she read the chapter aloud, Matt grew more and more into it with each word--he gasped at all the proper moments, grumbled when expected, defended Peter in that he was positive he neveer slept, and that stupid man who wrote the thing must've been out of his mind to suggest otherwise, and add off-handedly that he would quite like to meet a mermaid, because they sounded like a whole lot of fun to be around.

Jumping back as Addison lept up onto the bed, Matt followed suit almost instantly. He lept to his feet with immense enthusiasm, and, despite the wobbling of his knees, remained miraculously uprite the entire time. "I'm Peter!" he exclaimed, brandishing about an invisible sword in Addison's general direction. "And you're--hmm...you can be Hook," he nodded. "You look like a codfish today," he didn't mean it as an insult, necessarily; it was just that Matt flat out refused to play anyone but the main character in these sorts of scenarios. Again, he brandished the invisible weapon right under Addison's nose as he began to bounce up and down a bit on the bed. This didn't last very long, however, as soon his sick legs gave out and he crashed back onto the mattress, landing flat on his back with a half-annoyed-half-exhilarated look on his face.

[wendy]

Addison lost her balance when Matthew jumped up; she righted herself by jumping to the floor when she exclaimed “dive! as if the floor were the water. “I would love to meet a mermaid,” she agreed briefly, “they seem very sweet.” Despite having read Peter Pan and seen the varying movies, Addison was still quite sure that mermaids were kind and that they had just been written differently. Addison gave him a scrutinizing look, “of course you are, as always.” It would have been just wrong for Matthew to not be Peter. It was a bit strange for her one of her brothers to act as Peter when she read to them after she’d met Matthew; he was a very good Peter Pan. Addison stuck her tongue out at him, “I do not!”

She curled a finger into a hook-shape anyway on her free hand, before she continued to read. She used her best Irish accent to speak Smee’s lines and when Peter’s parts came around, Addison would wait almost patiently for Matthew to say them. He had the entire book memorized after all. Besides, it was all the more fun when there was actual interaction from the audience. It was so much better when she could heard others read with her. Not to mention that Matthew was very good at playing Peter impersonating Hook. “Boat ahoy,” Addison said in what she thought was quite a good Hook voice, especially seeing as she was a girl and it took quite some work to sound like Captain Hook.

Addison had always liked the bit about mothers here even if it was a tiny bit short. She also found it very nice of Wendy that she would have Smee as a pet pirate if she could. One of Addison’s most favorite parts was coming up and she was very excited, especially as she’d be reading it back and forth with Matthew. It was never nearly as fun when she had to voice Hook and Peter as Hook. Addison kept her finger curled into a hook, occasionally using it to turn the page for this was a rather hilarious image to her; turning a page in a book with a hook could be rather disastrous, but somehow she imagined Captain Hook’s annoyance to be quite amusing. “Who are you, stranger? Speak!”

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

Matt laughed heartily as Addison was forced off the bed and onto the floor. He bounced up and down a few times, then stopped abruptly, as the movement was giving his sickly self a bit of a headache. Not that he ever got headaches. It must have been the medicine doing that to him. He knew he shouldn't have taken it all along!

Any thoughts against the stuff instantly fled Matt's mind at Addison's sudden decleration. He stopped mid bounce (having decided to try again, if simply to spite the nasty, disgusting stuff sitting in his stomach), giving her a look that clearly stated he found her to be far crazier than usual. "Sweet?" he scoffed, shaking his head at her idiocy. "They'll sweetly drown you, that's what they'll do," he stared at Addison for a second longer, clearly assessing her sanity, before leaning back again into his best Peter Pan stance. "Only 'cause I'm the best," he nodded quite cockily, straightening up to put his hands on his hips before quoting one of his favorite lines. "The best there ever was!"

He dove to the ground only once sure she was in possession of all her marbles, "swimming" a bit further away from Addison until he was positioned near the night stand. Matt was tense as he repeated his lines, although not because of nerves; he was like a spring, tightening and winding with energy ready to burst fourth at the oppertune moment. Only slightly more patient than a young child. "At once, d'ye hear, or I'll plunge my hook in you!" he cried, sweeping his hand back in a large arc at his rendition of Peter's imitation of Hook. He reenacted the whole thing quite wonderfully, if he did say so himself. "Am I not a wonder, oh, I am a wonder!" Matt turned his head to the side, crouching down on the bed so as to whisper to the imaginary Wendy next to him.

At Addison's mention of a "Boat ahoy," Matt instantly tugged a pillow in front of him, positioning it in front of him so that it was no loger a pillow, but a rock. The floor was no longer a floor, but the lagoon itself; his bed was the rock and there was Tiger Lily--he could see her perched atop it, clear as if he'd been there himself, and was only just remembering it all. Imagining things was rather easy, if only one was willing not to try so hard to think stuff up, Matt thought.

Clamping his hands over his mouth, it was all Matt could do not to burst into a hysterical fit of laughter at Addison's pathetic attempts to turn the pages with her "hook". Or, Hook's hook--yes, she was definitely a pirate, herself. He could see the way the sun from his window--or was that the sky in Neverland--glinted off the metallic hand, and felt a sudden surge of pride for having cut that hand off in the first place. It got like that sometimes, when he pretended to be Peter with Addison. Probably because he was just so gosh darn good at pretending.

"I am James Hook, captain of the Jolly Roger," he called out, cupping his hands around his mouth as he spoke, poking his head up from behind the "rock." He waited for the reply, grin brigther than day, before speaking again in the same imitation-voice, "Brimstone and gall, say that again, and I'll cast anchor in you!"

[wendy]

Just because Matthew was the best Peter Pan didn’t mean he knew a thing about mermaids! They could be nice just as well as they could be mean; who was to say they couldn’t just braid your hair instead of drowning you? She was quite determined suddenly to prove that mermaids could be perfectly sweet; she just needed to find one. “I’ll find a mermaid one day and prove to you that they can be sweet,” she said a bit haughtily. Following this, she quickly told herself to stop breaking character. That was not something Hook or the narrator or any of the other characters would say! Why, they didn’t need to find mermaids anyway; they were already right there in the lagoon. Addison laughed and shook her head; he could be so like Peter Pan sometimes, it was uncanny.

Addison grinned, watching as he went into what she was sure was full imagination mode. The pillow was a rock and Wendy was beside him and they weren’t in his dorm room, but in the Mermaid’s Lagoon. Why couldn’t everybody she read to have this much creativity? “You are not; you are not,” Addison cried in response to Matthew, realizing just how poor her imitation of Hook was compared to his. That hardly mattered, though. It’s not like she really wanted to be Hook, anyway. He was the bad guy, after all. It was always for the sake of her story telling though. She would be who she needed to be if it meant she could make this as believable as possible. “If you are Hook,” she started, tilting her head. “Come tell me, who am I?”

Addison waited for Matthew’s reply and continued after him, “a codfish!” She went on, sounding exactly how she imagined Hook would sound when his proud spirit broke. But, really, why would one speak aloud to their ego? With a slight shrug, Addison began her favorite part (of this chapter, at least). What better way was there then to solve this with a guessing game? “Hook, have you another voice?” Addison shook her head, momentarily disappointed that Peter Pan had dropped his Hook imitation for a second. “And another name?” She could see this all playing out in her head, jumping too far when they hadn’t reached that part yet. It always bothered her when she her mind sped ahead of her; she may be reading aloud “Vegetable?” but her mind was already showing her ‘Man?’ Yes, very frustrating.

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

Matt laughed at her ignorance, cock-sure smile never leaving his face. “I’d like to see you try,” he grinned challengingly. Still, he couldn’t help but send her a rather cross look, for this was certainly not a part of the story they were supposed to be acting out—and besides, couldn’t she see that there were plenty of mermaids all around them already? Or, well, there had] been, before Hook had come into the lagoon. Really, Addison needed to work on her imagination skills.

“You are a codfish,” he replied matter-of-factly, still imitating the older man’s voice. Clamping a hand over his mouth, Matt attempted (albeit pitifully) to stifle his laughter as Hook’s voice rang out over the Mermaid’s Lagoon. He really was rather brilliant. There was no longer any distinction between Addison Rowe and Addison-who-was-Hook; nor was there between himself and Peter. Pretending sometimes felt better than real life. Or, well, it did when he was pretending with Addie, anyway.

Of course he had another voice! Why, the captain was truly idiotic. He nodded eagerly for a moment before realizing there was no way for Hook to perceive the answer. “Aye!” he added hastily, still in Hook’s voice, suddenly under the impression the pause before the answer was fully intentional. “No…” his oddly deep voice rang out over the floor-that-was-no-longer-a-floor. When asked about being a mineral, he responded the same, stretching out along the floor as though floating on his back in the water, arms crossed behind his head as he closed his eyes, wicked grin spread over his face.

[wendy]

Ooo, he could be so frustrating sometimes! Thinking that he knew everything. If she hadn’t been determined then, she certainly was now. Addison was absolutely positively without a doubt going to find a mermaid, and that mermaid would be kind and lovely. Besides! Hadn’t the Little Mermaid been darling? She certainly had. Sure, curiosity had killed the cat when it came to that story, but that wasn’t what mattered. If there were mermaids in stories that could be sweet, then Addison was sure to find one even if it took finding a few mean mermaids. Having been much too distracted by this resolve, Addison blinked and took a moment to catch up.

Right, reading Peter Pan. Someday, she would insist that Matthew was Hook. Just… just because. It would certainly be interesting. Quickly scanning the page, Addison resumed where she’d left off. “Mineral?” to which Matthew replied no. Addison sometimes wondered why she bothered to read from the book; she’d memorized it quite some time ago. Better safe than sorry. She’d rather be known for reading from the book than for getting lines wrong. “Animal?” And the guessing game continued, Matthew doing a wonderful job as Peter Pan imitating Hook. “Man?” Addison almost laughed, surprised and amused by just how similar Matthew and Peter Pan could be sometimes.

“Boy?” She asked, taking to wandering around the room while he laid still on the floor. Addison had almost forgotten that Matthew was even sick; remembering now led her to thinking he could probably use some rest. Perhaps after this chapter… “Ordinary boy?” Addison rolled her eyes; why, anybody would be insulted by that. “Wonderful boy?” Addison could practically feel Wendy’s pain, almost disappointed that Matth—Peter Pan wasn’t quite clever enough to know better than to answer anything but ‘no.’ Addison stopped walking and looked to Matthew, waiting.


ooc: i am SO sorry i took forever to reply.
i wasn't aware of how long it had been! ):

[MATTHEW PETERSON]

Oh, he was wonderful! And what was better, he knew Addison thought so, too. It was obvious; he needed no reading into the thing, because everyone thought him grand and he knew so already. So really, Addie was just like everyone else. Except not at all. Nobody could read like she could. Sometimes, Matt wished she would skip school with him just so they could sit, in Central Park or even in the dorms and just listen to her tell him stories all day and night. Wonderful stories about sword fights and pirates and adventures and always, always, always, ALWAYS about him winning battles in some sort of ridiculous way he could wholeheartedly believe and she would, just for a moment, convince herself had actually happened. That, in Matt’s mind, would be a perfect day. Although all things considered (minus the medicine, which he’d already forgotten about) this one was pretty high on the list.

“NO!” he shouted in response to her—Hook’s—question about his manhood. It was an honest answer, too. For a moment, it had almost felt as though two boys had been saying the words, like two voices had come out of his mouth, each as defiant as the other. It hardly worried Matt, though. It was all in his head, after all, and probably just meant he was a wonderful actor. As though he hadn’t known already.

Oh, but he was a boy. Always and forever, he was a boy. Matt responded with a proper “Yes,” his lips widening into a grin.

“No!” he was anything but ordinary.

Oh, but he was a wonder. “Yes!” the word was filled with genuine glee, a sort of cockiness laced with what perhaps could have been something resembling self-righteousness. Or, at least, as much self-righteousness as a boy could possess.

Far too impatient to keep up with this guessing game for much longer, Matt did what he would never ever in all his years admit to, and skipped several lines ahead in the story he had memorized by heart. “Do you give up?!” his hands were cupped around his mouth, ready to let loose with the most triumphant crow Neverland had ever heard.

[wendy]

It felt like they hadn’t done this in a very long time. Maybe it was because her days had felt longer and slower or maybe it had been the additional class work she’d taken on for extra credit (which she’d made sure to keep hush-hush because she’d never hear the end of it otherwise). Whatever it was, she didn’t care for it. She needed more days like this. Spending time with Matthew, reading aloud from their favorite story. If he hadn’t been sick, she would’ve suggested tree climbing afterwards. He was, however, and she intended to make sure he had more rest once they were done acting.

Matthew may not have noticed but Addison certainly had. She wasn’t as involved in the story as Matthew currently was, what with her distracted thoughts on mermaids and acting. Because of this, she noticed the way he’d said no the first time, in response to being a man. It’d sounded like two different voices, one being her Matthew’s and the other… well, she couldn’t figure out what it had been. It puzzled her and she wanted to bring it up but she’d already interrupted the story often enough. It probably wasn’t even that big a deal; she was clearly putting too much thought into it.

Addison was completely caught off guard when he leapt ahead, skipping a few lines. She hurried to catch up before reading on as the pirates, eager to discover an identity to the voice. There was a part of her – again, she felt as if she could easily connect with Wendy – that was sorely disappointed in Peter Pan for giving himself away. Then again, it could hardly be expected of such a wonderful boy to not brag about who he was. Finally, Addison’s imagination took hold and she was suddenly at the lagoon. How else was she to see John and the Lost Boys fighting pirates? You couldn’t do that if you weren’t focusing!

Addison continued to read aloud, finding no actually dialogue. It felt strange, not changing her voice to better sound like the character she was portraying. Still, she’d always thought she had a lovely voice for storytelling; she was quite good at speaking loudly when needed and making her voice carry when she thought it necessary. Stories were never boring when Addison read them. It was one of the main reasons she always volunteered to read aloud in class.