Alice used to be the curious girl who chased the White Rabbit down to Wonderland, but that was a distant story ever since she was saved by Peter Pan. She lived in Neverland now, gliding through the skies, swaying from trees, and laughing with the lost boys. She was fearless, independent, and completely at ease here, where rules were few and adventures endless. She had left Wonderland and England behind, and for the first time, she felt fully alive.
She remembered the last time she had tried to return to Wonderland and how the White Queen had barred her from entering, being afraid Alice’s world’s fear and sorrow would taint their magic. The rejection had stung back then, but in Neverland, none of that mattered. This was now her home, and she could finally be free.
Peter was always there; mischievous, wild, untamed, fiery-red hair catching the starlight, a grin full of secrets. Over the months, their playful teasing, daring quests, and shared triumphs had grown into something more; something neither of them dared to name until one quiet night.
They perched on a high branch of an ancient tree, the moon's silver light spilling over the forest. The wind tugged at their hair, and the stars stretched endlessly above them.
Peter glanced at her, something unreadable flickering across his face. Alice smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair from her eyes.
Without thinking, she leaned closer, and their lips met in a slow, tentative first kiss. Peter’s kiss was warm, uncertain, and hungry. Alice responded instantly, tilting into him, letting him know he was wanted—loved for the first time. The sky seemed to hold its breath as the kiss lingered, soft and electric, like stepping into a memory she hadn’t realized she had been waiting for.
When they pulled back just enough to breathe, Peter rested his forehead against hers.
“If we keep going, I won’t stop,” he murmured.
“I’m not asking you to,” Alice said, eyes bright with daring.
A few nights later, in the quiet shadow of the same ancient tree, the second kiss came: hotter, deeper, impossible to resist. Peter pressed close, hands firm at her waist, all the restraint of his eternal boyhood cracking under the weight of feverish desire. Alice met him fully, knowingly; every movement a choice, every breath a promise.
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” he whispered.
“I do,” she said, kissing him again, entirely alive, intimately hers.
The wind tore around them, clouds swirling, Neverland itself alive with the power of what they shared. Peter groaned softly, caught between restraint and abandon, and Alice felt the thrill, the danger, and the certainty of loving someone who refused to grow up yet could hold her completely.
When they finally pulled apart, just enough to breathe, Peter rested his forehead against hers again.
“Stay,” he whispered, not a command for once, but a plea.
“I’m staying,” Alice said, steady, fierce, fearless.
In that moment, between stars, clouds, and the reckless eternity of Neverland, Alice realized she had never been rejected or lost. She had only been waiting for Peter; for magic, for a love that could exist absolutely in the whimsical world she already called home.
©Lena Holdman, all rights reserved 2025
Author Notes: While I was messing around with ChatGPT (typing random, silly prompts about my favorite characters), this story idea popped into my head. I've always shipped Peter and Alice, and in my mind's eye, I've seen a kissing scene between them. Don't worry, AI won't ever write for me. These are my words. ChatGPT only helped me map out the plot of the story, then I wrote and typed the story.
Smooches and think Tink!
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