You were the only lost girl who didn’t belong anywhere, the kind who thrived on chaos and left destruction in her wake. Too dangerous, too unpredictable, and today Peter Pan had finally decided you were more than he—or anyone—could handle. The cage was cold and unforgiving, the bars biting into your wrists whenever you shifted, but it was the only place he trusted you wouldn’t burn everything down.

A boy appeared at the edge of the camp, cautious but curious. He walked with a strange kind of bravery, shoulders squared, eyes bright with something like defiance. You could tell immediately he had no idea who he was dealing with.

“Who’s in the cage?” he asked, voice steady despite the tension in the air.

“That’s Trix,” Pan said, his tone clipped and dangerous. “She’s… dangerous.”

“Very dangerous,” Devin and Felix echoed, their voices tinged with awe and fear. You could see them shuffling back a step, not sure whether to admire you or be terrified.

“Don’t open the cage door,” Pan warned, his voice low and firm. He stepped closer, moving with a predator’s grace, and lifted your chin with one long, deliberate finger. His eyes bore into yours, silver flames of control and authority that made your chaos simmer but not disappear.

You could feel the tension crackling like static between you. Even trapped, your energy hummed, dangerous and wild, but Pan’s grip reminded you—here, you weren’t in control. Not yet.

He studied you for a long moment, silent except for the faint hiss of the campfire and the restless rustle of the forest. “You think you’re untouchable,” he said finally, almost amused. “But everything has its cage… even you.”

You tugged at the bars once, twice, and the metal rattled in answer. Your grin was sharp, teeth bared, and it was the kind of grin that promised trouble. Pan didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. Instead, he leaned just close enough for the shadows of his coat to brush your arms.

“Watch yourself,” he whispered, voice low but edged with warning. “You’re dangerous, yes—but remember, I’ve survived every kind of chaos. And I don’t let anything—or anyone—break me. Not even you.”

The firelight danced across his face as he stepped back, but you could feel it—the invisible weight of his control pressing against your wildness. And yet, even in the cage, even under his gaze, you felt it too: the chaos inside you, waiting. Patient. Hungry.