A house waits just ahead, tucked against the edge of the lake as if it grew there, as if the land shaped itself around it instead of the other way around. Warm light glows through wide windows, spilling out onto the water where it shimmers and breaks into soft ribbons of gold, each ripple carrying it farther into the dark. The reflection moves like something alive, breathing with the lake, pulling my eyes toward it without asking permission.
It is not large enough to feel distant, not grand in a way that demands admiration, but there is a quiet certainty in its presence. Every line feels deliberate, every window placed to catch something worth holding onto. I can see it in the way the light settles, in the way the house seems to open itself toward the water instead of turning away. Nothing about it is accidental.
It feels like a place built for moments that matter. For long evenings that stretch into night without anyone noticing. For conversations that soften into silence, where silence is enough. For a life chosen carefully, piece by piece, until it becomes something steady and real.
And standing here, looking at it, I cannot shake the feeling that this house is not just meant to be seen. It is meant to be stepped into.
On the gate, a plaque catches the light.
Neverland.
I say it quietly, barely more than a breath, but the word settles somewhere deep inside me, somewhere only Dex can see. It brushes against something old and restless, something that still remembers what it meant to run without looking back, to disappear before anyone could find me, to survive by never staying still long enough to be caught. Until him. Until he became my home. My own Pan, bringing me to Neverland.
“Dex…”
My voice barely comes out.
He doesn’t answer right away. He just watches me, his hand tightening slightly around mine, like he is bracing himself for what this means.
“My parents gave each of us a piece of land,” he says after a moment, quieter now. “This one is mine.”
I look at him, then back at the house, something already beginning to bloom in my chest.
“You built this?”
He nods once.
“For us.”
The words don’t hit all at once.
They settle.
Slowly. Deeply.
Until I feel them everywhere.
For us.
I take a step forward without realizing it, and he moves with me, guiding me up the wooden steps and through the front door.
Warmth meets me instantly.
Soft light. Wood. Open space that doesn’t overwhelm, but wraps around me instead, like it has been waiting.
And then I see it.
The piano.
White. Grand. Sitting in the living room like it has always belonged there, placed perfectly in front of the windows overlooking the lake.
My breath catches.
“You said once you always dreamed of having one,” Dex murmurs behind me.
I turn slowly, my chest tightening.
“You remembered that?”
