More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
To those who always dreamed of Neverland, of flying, and of falling in love with the villain.
Peter Pan is mine, always has been. Mine to capture.
Mine to bend. Mine to break.
“Good boy,” I whisper, grinning when he shivers.
“Peter Pan’s back, bitches.”
The old Peter Pan has died, and a new one’s risen from his ashes. He’s a star—Neverland’s sun—and I don’t care if I get burned.
I want to tell him to smile, that I need to see it. Because I’m tired of fucking up and erasing that smile from his face, shrouding his light with my darkness. He doesn’t deserve it. I wish I knew of another way to be, to exist, to live in his light without losing myself.
“You forgot me once before, but this time, I’ll sear myself onto your fucking soul. You’ll never be able to fucking forget again.”
“All that’s missing is the apron that says ‘Got cake? ’Cause I can hook you up.’”
Charlotte Yapp liked this
“Beg for it, Little Star. I love to hear you beg.”
I’m an exploding star, a fucking supernova.
If he is the sun, then I think I’m the moon. Used to the darkness, but living for those moments where his light shines on me.
“But I promise you that you are brave. You can be both brave and afraid. Because one cannot exist without the other.”
