Peter Pan is sitting near the fire with Tiger Lily, laughing over a shared adventure, entirely unaware of the tiny figure watching them from above. Tinkerbell flits from branch to branch, her small fists clenched, green light flaring with each flutter of her wings.

“Oh, so that’s how it is,” she mutters under her breath, jealousy sparkling in her voice. Her tiny body trembles with frustration and something deeper — affection she rarely admits.

Peter laughs too loudly, and she can’t hold back. A cloud of fairy dust drifts down, making him sneeze and sending sparks into the night sky.

“Really, Peter Pan,” she huffs, fluttering down to hover at his shoulder, “you’ll always be my hero… and don’t think I’m sharing you with anyone!”

She brushes her tiny hand against his arm, a nudge that’s part warning, part affection. Her eyes meet his, glimmering like moonlit emeralds. “You may be the boy who never grows up… but I’m the one who’ll always fly by your side.”

Even Tiger Lily notices the sparkle in Tinkerbell’s eyes, though the tiny fairy won’t admit anything aloud.