It was dark now as they walked through the village, threading their way through various huts. The night air was chillier now and a gust of wind had passed them, rustling the trees and bushes around the village. Gwenevieve was silent as she followed Harry, her hands rubbing the tops of her arms to warm herself as her eyes darted from one boy to the other. They were staring at her as she passed, whispering her name among themselves. She felt out of place and still feared one of them would attack her the moment Harry wasn't looking. And now, with her dagger in Harry's pocket, she had no way of defending herself. She knew how to throw a punch but she wasn't skilled in combat. These boys were cavemen and she knew if it were them against her, she would never make it out alive.

"This way." Harry said, gesturing for her to turn to her right. She did, and right there stood a hut that was taller than the others. Green leaves blanketed the top of it to form a roof over the threaded bamboo that was attached to wood from the trees stood up in a circle around it. Gwenevieve stared at it in amazement, knowing the person who had made this had to be Harry. He was the oldest of the boys after all, and after catching a glimpse of the carved sword he made, she had a good idea it was him.

Harry stepped up to his hut, pushing the bamboo door back to reveal the inside of it. He shyly gestured Gwenevieve inside and her eyes took it in as she slowly stepped through the door. The first thing she saw was the bed that sat against the wooden wall of the room. It had a blanket made out of leaves splayed out over it, and if she looked close enough she could see the makeshift mattress made out of bamboo underneath. It was held up by thick wooden legs, and a large flat rock that sat beneath the bed in case the bamboo were to break. On top of all that, sat a single pillow that was covered in what looked like an old shirt. Gwenevieve moved towards it out of curiosity, picking up the pillow and turning it around in her hand.

"How did you make this?" She asked, looking over her shoulder to see Harry standing near the doorway with his arms crossed.

"There are bird feathers inside it. I used my shirt as the pillow case." He responded slowly, watching her observe his room. She silently put the pillow back down, in awe of how he made it all. The floor was even covered in wood, tied together with bands of more bamboo.

"The floor is to prevent snakes from getting in. You should be safe in here." He shared when he saw he staring at the floor. He felt shy with her seeing the place that was the most personal thing he had here. He felt she was silently judging him. But Harry had nothing to fear; Gwenevieve was impressed.

"It's very nice in here." She responded, and she was telling the truth. Gwen felt comfortable there, the warmth from the hut bringing her a sense of something that was the closest thing to home. She didn't feel like she was being watched or judged in Harry's room. She felt safe.

"Thank you." Harry cleared his throat, glad that it was fairly dark and she wouldn't be able to see his blush. Realizing that he couldn't see her, he moved across the room to the small table he also made. He picked up two thick wooden sticks, sticking them in a lantern that had glass and edges made out of he steel. He still wondered how he had managed to find something so useful during a day of exploring the island.

He broke off a few pieces of the thick branches in his hands before throwing it into the lantern. He began to rub the two sticks together roughly, until there was a fairly large ember growing at the end of one stick and Harry quickly tapped it until it fell onto the wood in the lantern. Immediately, the wood caught fire and Harry closed the latch of the small glass door into place. He turned, the room now illuminated by the light of the fire and he paused when he saw it left a reflection off Gwen's eyes. They looked like they were glowing and Harry felt as if he had lost his breath for a moment. And it only worsened when she pulled the ribbon from her hair. It fell down her back and shoulders, cascading in long curls that had Harry wishing he could touch it. It looked so soft, and it went well with her porcelain skin and hazel eyes. She was so beautiful, he thought. But he didn't have the courage to say it out loud.

"Where will I sleep?" She asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. He looked away, feeling as if she could see what he had been thinking just by looking at his face.

"You may have the bed. I will sleep on the floor."

"Oh," she frowned, looking down at the wooden floor. It didn't look comfortable. "I don't mind sleeping on the floor. You've let me stay here, I can't take your bed as well."

"It's only one night." He reminded her and pressed his lips together immediately after. He realized how rude it might have sounded, as if he didn't want her there and she had to leave tomorrow. "I mean to say a night on the floor won't kill me."

Gwenevieve smiled small and nodded, reluctant to taking his bed from him but not wanting to argue with him. "Alright, if you insist."

Harry nodded, his hands moving to cross at his lower back. He felt nervous with being in a small room with her alone for a reason he wasn't aware of. He wanted to bolt his way out of there and get as far as he could from her, but the few manners he had learned years ago forced him to stay right where he stood. "Did you need anything?"

"Oh. Um, do you by any chance have some food or water?" She asked timidly, her cheeks flaring when the question left her mouth. She didn't want to bother him but her stomach was growling violently. "I'm sorry if I'm asking for too much."

Harry smiled at her, finding her shyness to be adoring. "You are not. We do have some food and water, I'll go get it for you. Make yourself comfortable if you'd like."

Gwenevieve watched him go, her eyes observing the rest of his room as she slowly sat on the bed. She hesitated for a moment, testing out the strength of the bamboo mattress by wiggling her weight above it. The bamboo didn't budge and after feeling how secure it was, she scooted to the middle of the bed and sat with her legs curled up to her side. She fixed her long skirt, pushing it down to cover her bare legs just as the door to the hut opened again. She jumped, frightened by the sudden visitor and her eyes darted to the doorway to see Harry stepping through. His eyes had fallen straight to her hand on her gown but he had quickly looked away when he saw the exposed skin of her thigh. He felt as if he just saw a part of her body that he was not supposed to and the stir in the pit of his stomach confirmed this thought.

He tentatively walked over to her, holding both hands out to hand her a bowl of water along with a banana and apple. Gwen took both things from him, her delicate fingers brushing the tips of his. Harry's body had stilled when he felt a jolt of something that could only be described as electrifying run through his veins. The feeling was so unfamiliar and scary he could only step away from her the moment she had managed to gather the bowl and food in her hands. He watched her as she took a long drink from the bowl, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. She was silent as she took a bite from the banana, her bites turning greedy the closer she got to the bottom of it. Once she finished she seemed to have realized how un-lady like that must have looked to Harry and she blushed, ducking her head down to hide her red face from his view. She twirled the apple in her lap and after a few short moments she decided she was full enough, leaning over the side of the bed to place the apple on the small table he had there.

"You're no longer hungry?" Harry asked in concern and Gwen's hazel eyes flickered up to meet his green ones.

"I'm full for now. Thank you for both." She said quietly and Harry nodded. He didn't know what else to do. Should he go? Stay and keep her company? Or did she want to sleep? It was still fairly early and Harry wouldn't be able to sleep for another two hours or so. He was wide awake and he knew if he lied there on the floor, the reminder of the girl sleeping on his bed would keep him up at night.

"How old are you?" He found himself asking her the longer he stared. He realized that he was still standing right in front of her and he moved back, plopping down on the wooden floor. He brought his knees up to his chest, resting his elbows above them as he let his hands hang between the space of his legs.

Gwenevieve was staring at him now, with his brown hair curling over his forehead and around his ears. His lean toned body, his surprisingly thick arms, all bent in a way that was drawing the attention towards the muscles he did have. He was a distraction to Gwen, and she wondered if he was aware with how attractive he really was? By the innocence in his green eyes as he waited for her response and the kind set of his lips, she knew he wasn't. He didn't know that he was the most beautiful boy she had ever seen.

"I'm seventeen." She had finally answered, moving to rest her weight on her hand beside her. Her hair fell over that shoulder as she did, exposing her smooth neck that Harry's eyes had been drawn too. He faintly remembered how girls were not supposed to show their skin back home. How the laws in society forbid the women to wear any clothing that might be too revealing. Only their husbands were allowed to see them in anything less then what was deemed appropriate to the public. Yet, here Gwenevieve sat with her neck on plain view, her shoulders exposed and the top of her chest revealed to Harry's sudden growing imagination. He didn't mind it either.

"Seventeen?" He repeated, tilting his head to the side in thought. "What year is it?"

"You don't know what year it is?" Gwenevieve asked in confusion and Harry shook his head. For a moment she wondered just how long Harry was stuck here for if he couldn't even remember the year. Had he been here since he was a child? Since he were the other boys age? It would have explained the way he seemed to know how to build everything. With all the time he had on the island, he would have taught himself. "It's 1909."

"1909." Harry repeated quietly- to himself, as his mind worked to do the math mentally between this year and the year he had first left home. He breathed out through his nose loudly, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he bit his lip. Had it really been that long?

"How old are you?" Gwen asked him in return and Harry's head lifted to look at her. She looked so innocent to him, she had no idea. Absolutely no idea about the island.

"Seventeen." He responded and after a tense moment he sucked in a deep breath. "Well, physically I'm seventeen. But in here," he paused to tap his head with his forefinger. "I'm twenty two."

Gwen could only stare at him as she processed his words, her eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "Huh?"

"I'm actually twenty two." He says, licking his lips as his eyes were fixed on the ground. "If what you say about the year is correct, then I'm twenty two. Or I should be twenty two."

Gwen laughed unsurely, tilting her head at him. She had no idea what he was talking about and for a brief moment she wondered if he might be crazy. She had heard stories of people going insane if they were in isolation for too long. Then again, he wasn't actually alone. He had people here with him, she thought. "I'm not sure I understand you Harry."

His gaze had flickered up to meet hers and he held a look of cautiousness as he watched her in silence. He wasn't sure if he should tell her. How would she react? Would she go screaming and run? Not that there was anywhere for her to go, this was the safest place she were going to find on the island. She had absolutely no knowledge of what the island really held, or what it really was. And he hated to be the one to crush her hopes of getting home; because once you went to Neverland there was no leaving.

"I left home in 1904," he whispered and Gwen's eyebrows dipped. "I was seventeen when I left home. And if you say it's 1909, it's been five years."

Gwen was quiet for a long tense moment as she let his words sink in. It didn't make sense to her. He looked no older than eighteen years old. "B-but you look seventeen? You don't look twenty two?"

"That's because here, I don't age." He said slowly and Gwen's heart had stilled along with her breathing. Harry kept his green eyes trained on her, practically piercing a hole through her scull to gauge her reaction at the next words he spoke. "Here, in Neverland, you don't grow up. No one ever grows up."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The sound of the front door to Harry's hut opening is what woke Gwenevieve up the next morning. Her back was a little stiff as she rolled onto her back, twisting her waist in an odd angle to crack the bones in her spine. She stretched her arms above her head, making an inhuman noise as she did. There was a low chuckle that vibrated against the wooden walls and she gasped, sitting up in a haste at the sound. Her still swollen sleepy eyes landed on Harry to see him standing across the room, with his hair damp and clinging to the sides of his face. Water drops slipped down his tan skin and over the muscles in his chest. And suddenly Gwen was very wide awake.

"Good morning." He said slowly, hesitantly walking closer to the bed. After their conversation the previous night Harry was unsure where he stood with Gwenevieve. Considering how she had said absolutely nothing in reply to what he revealed her. She had simply blinked at him and merely muttered about being tired. So Harry had excused himself to leave her to her thoughts, knowing she had probably endured too much in one day. She needed rest, and he gave it to her.

Though what Harry didn't know was that Gwen had stayed wide awake for a good three hours, thinking of what he said with confusion and disbelief. Even after lying there for hours, up until Harry had quietly snuck back into the hut to lay down on the floor, she didn't understand it. And waking up this morning, she still didn't.

"Good morning." She said quietly, her hands moving to her hair self consciously when she remembered how she must look to him. She flattened her hand against it, brushing her fingers through the curls a few times before dropping her hand. She looked up at Harry shyly when he held out two bowls to her, one that had water in it while the other held something that looked like white lotion.

"What is that?"

"Coconut oil. I remembered learning how to make it in school once." He said, pushing the bowls towards her until she gripped them in her hands. "It can be used as a toothpaste. And a shampoo."

"You mean I can bathe?" She asked almost excitedly. She hadn't bathed in almost three days and she felt filthy.

Harry nodded, a small smile on his face. "I can take you to the lake, the boys probably won't bathe until later but I'll make sure no one disturbs you."

"Thank you." She smiled and he nodded in return. Gwen slowly pulled the blanket of leaves back, her eyes widening when she saw her gown pooled at her hips. She hurriedly pulled it down but Harry had already seen the exposure of her skin and the last layer of her undergarment. His cheeks flushed and he stepped back, rubbing the back of his neck as she stood from the bed holding the bowls in her hand. They both walked out of the hut together, Gwen following in Harry's trail. She blinked repeatedly when the morning sun hit her face, the brightness making her eyes throb. She shielded it with her hand and her gaze swept across the plain land with all the other huts around them. There were some boys walking around, carrying wood or just in mere conversation with each other. A few of them had stopped to stare at Gwen and she immediately looked away, pausing at the side of the hut to swipe her finger through the coconut oil. She used her finger to brush her teeth, downing the water and swishing it around her mouth before spitting it out off to an empty spot of grass. Harry was waiting a few feet away from her, giving her the space he felt she wanted in the moment. When she was finished cleaning her hand off with the water she turned back to Harry.

He smiled at her and waved for her to follow him. She did, falling into step just a few feet behind him as he led her away from the village and through the trees. She kept thinking about what he told her the night before, and she wanted to ask a few questions but felt right now wasn't the time. But then the reminder came that she was supposed to leave his village that day. The boys didn't want her there and she felt the panic in her rise at the thought of not knowing where to go. How was she going to survive on her own? She had no survival skills and she would surely go insane after being alone for sometime. And then she would die.

Harry must have sensed her panic because he stopped near the edge of the trees, turning to look at her with worried eyes. "Are you alright Gwenevieve?"

"I leave today." She spluttered, her eyes wide as she gazed up at Harry. "I don't know how I'm going to take care of myself. I'm not like you boys, I don't have the strength to make a weapon or to kill an animal for food. I'm weak, and I'm probably going to die out there."

"You are not going to die."

"I am." She nodded frantically, her breaths coming out fast. She had to remind herself to calm down, what with her asthma but her rush of thoughts were making it difficult. "I'm not going to survive."

"Yes you will." Harry said sternly, turning fully around to place his hands on her bare shoulders. His fingers were warm on her skin and his eyes were staring into hers with a fierceness she had never seen before. Her breathing accelerated, but for more than one reason this time when he slipped his hands up to her face and cupped her cheeks in his hands. "You're not going anywhere."

"W-what?" She managed to say through a full lungful of breath. She wanted to tell him to stop touching her, that his hands on her were not doing anything to help regulate her breathing. It was taking her breath away. Literally.

"You're not leaving." He said determinedly. "I don't really care what the lost boys say, they'll have to agree because I've made up my mind and you're staying."

"But the pirates? Your truce?" She asked incredulously and Harry shook his head, unable to stop himself from letting his thumb lightly brush against her cheek. He had thought long and hard the previous night about what it was he was going to do about the Pirates, different scenarios playing out in his head. But none of them involved handing Gwen over to them, and the last option was letting Gwen leave on her own. He knew he had told the boys she'd only be there for one night and maybe at the time it was the truth, but things change. He couldn't fathom the idea of sending her out there on her own. The island was filled with magical creatures, some not always nice. And if they didn't age on the island, she would never grow up to die of old age. She would stay young and be forced to live those days all by herself. Isolated from the rest of them with no one to accompany or protect her. Harry wasn't going to have that. He couldn't stand the thought.

He let his hands slip from her face, taking a step back even though he felt a magnetic pull towards her. She was staying in the village with them but Harry had to distance himself from her. He didn't want the boys to think he was doing this for his benefit, even though he was. "We'll try and hide you from them if they come looking. If they find you, then I guess we'll have to prepare for battle."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, watching Harry's gaze sweep over her face. She wanted to throw her arms around him and thank him for letting her stay, for helping her regardless of what the lost boys would say. She owed him so much. And although there was something poking at her in the edge of her mind to remind her of home she felt in that moment as she gazed back at Harry, that maybe she didn't want to go back anymore.

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Hope you liked this chapter :)

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