Pan stood with his eyes full of anger and jaw tight as he watched the Lost Boys rough house below his tree house. For months<i>she </i>had been coming to the island in her dreams, and every time Pan was left with an aching in his chest that infuriated him. He didn't understand it, where it came from, nor why it decided to linger the way it did, festering into something that made his stomach twist whenever morning would come. It was a hideous thing, one that a part of him honestly loathed<i>her</i>for. A more rational part of the mael's mind knew that there was no way that this girl had known the power she held over him, but that was a small and quiet voice, one that was easily quieted by the storm of emotions that raged inside of him.<br/><br/>At first he hated her, a girl in his island of Lost Boys, absurd. She didn’t belong here, but soon she changed his tune. He didn’t know how or when, but Pan had found himself enjoying her company. Perhaps it was when she nearly took Felix’s head off for grazing her with an arrow during target practice, or perhaps it was when she comforted Johnny, the youngest lost boy at age six, when he began to get homesick, it could have even been when Pan first saw her eyes light up at her first bonfire as the Lost Boys chanted and danced around the fire. Groaning, Pan raked his hand over his face, resting it on his chin. Did it even matter when it started to happen? It was too late now anyways. He was in far too deep. She had him wrapped around her little stupid fucking finger and he was absolutely sick of it. A low growl rumbled in the boy's chest, eyes darkening with a desire-driven hate that had formed over some time.<br/><br/>Each night she came and each morning she left. Pan was sick of it, sick of finding her there only to lose her once more. His desire had turned to hate and then, once more, to something darker. He wanted to possess her, own everything that she was -- her hold on him suffocating the longer this went on. So he did the only rational thing that he could thing of. He took her, in the coming morning his shadow, a inky creature that slipped through the folds of human existence unseen. It was an extension of himself, bound to him through an agreement that had cost him everything. It didn't matter what it cost though, a dark smile twisting onto a deceptively handsome face.<br/><br/>She was going to be his no matter what.<br/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-size: 10px">[ <a class="username" data-user-id="775" data-username="@Silky" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/775/">@Silky</a> ]</span>​</div>