This is the beginning to one of my new stories. Or, more precisely, my tentative beginning. I haven't decided yet. xX

Anywhoo, enjoy? XD

Summary: After having her wedding with her royal fiancé put on hold, Anna finds out that she truly doesn't want the life of leisure she was born into. Instead, she wants to be with Peter, the lunatic guardian who kidnapped her from her from the alter for a brief chat. Problem is, Peter and his friends have already left her fiancé's palace, not to mention the country. Now Anna must go find him, using skills she was taught on her previous journey with Peter.

It's kind of long...sorry.

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IndiviDUALISM

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"What are you doing, Peter?" shrieked Anna, pounding her fists on the back of her captor as he ran through the halls with her on his shoulder. Peter ignored her feeble hits, though, and dashed into a random guest room. Behind him, the shouts of guards, and the sounds of the chasing audience that had been at the wedding were disturbingly calming, if suspenseful, background noise. The lock, for a split second, drowned out the chasing feet, and orders of the burly guards with a feeble click.

Turning around, with his back against the door, Peter lowered Anna to the floor. Her wedding gown made a soft swishing sound as it met with the carpet, as if whispering gossip to the floorboards. The room was blue with shadows, and a distinct dusty scent told the two that it hadn't been used by anyone for at least a year. It was filled with furniture, though, should anyone need to use it unexpectedly. In response to her earlier question, Peter stated matter-of-factly, "I'm saving you."

"From what?!" The words were out of Anna's mouth before she could even think. Her mind, thus far, was too jumbled from the unexpected shoulder ride to work properly. For now, Anna was on auto-pilot.

"Normalcy," Peter's tone suggested it was an apparent answer, and Anna just stared up at him. Her mouth didn't fall open, as it had upon so many introductory encounters with him. Anna was used to his spontaneous actions, but it didn't keep her from being mentally shocked, all the same. She was torn between hitting the red-head, and hugging him. The former was for apparent reasons; the latter had reasons that not even Anna could attempt to discern. She was used to those curious wants, though, and blocked them out.

After a moment of silence, Anna sighed in frustration, "Peter, I don't want to be saved from normalcy. I want this! I want to have a normal life, again. A life where I don't have to be worried about something unexpectedly happening. Where everything is known ahead of schedule; where..."

Everything is predictable, finished Anna mentally. Half of her mind cooed at the idea, while the other half sneered in disgust. It was hard to believe, just a few months ago, that Anna would have been all for adventure. After going on so many nerve-wracking trips with Peter, Edward, and Sonya, though, she didn't want adventure much anymore. Or, precisely, Anna didn't want to worry during adventures anymore. Each time, she'd be worried for one of those three miscreants, but it somehow made the adventure more sharp, and interesting, when coupled with that worry. Anna was just too ashamed to admit it.

Peter was obviously waiting for her to finish her sentence, but it was becoming glaringly obvious, with each second, that she wasn't about to say anything else. She was such an irksome person! His hands clenched into fists as he tried to control his temper. Anna was an intelligent person, but when it came to herself she was an ignoramus. She didn't even realize what she wanted! Peter had seen her type so many times before. A type that was stifled by society and family reputation. A type that wanted to break free from all the rules and regulations to experience life in careless fashion. A type that he used to be.

Or maybe he was wrong. Peter realized that with a bit of irritation. He hated to be wrong about people. He didn't want to be wrong. He wanted to be right! Especially concerning Anna. Peter's hands moved to grip the young woman's shoulders. She backed up, hesitant of his motive, until she realized she had backed herself into a corner.

Selfishness rose in Peter's mind as he realized how badly he wanted Anna to desire the unpredictable life. The life of a crazy person. She'd experienced it while travelling with himself and his friends. Peter knew she had fun during that time, and that the refreshing change in her life made her feel more free. At least, that's what he thought she had felt. A sinking feeling in his chest made him realize that maybe it was just his mind fooling him. A wistful desire that was altering his clear observations of this girl into misty misconceptions. Perhaps he wanted to fool himself into believing Anna wanted to be with him and his friends, simply because he wanted her to be with them.

"Did you hate travelling with us?" asked Peter, slightly bitter in tone, as he cornered Anna in the darkness of the guest room. She stared up at the red-head with wide eyes, filled more with surprise than fear. Peter was glaring down at her, determination flickering in his pale blue eyes. Anna was at a loss for words, though. Who wouldn't be stunned after being dragged away from the alter, in front of hundreds of pews filled by family and friends, by this crazed lunatic?

"W-what?" breathed Anna, trying to stall for time as her mind scrambled to work properly. All her senses were frazzled. It didn't help that Peter was hovering over her so closely, either. Whenever she was around him, she never knew what to think. All Anna knew of Peter was that he was unpredictable, and even that was shaky fact. His hands still on her shoulders, a constant reminder of how much stronger he was, made her flush in embarrassment as an unwanted realization crawled into her thoughts: she truly didn't mind his proximity, or his hands being on her.

In the darkness, she heard Peter growl in irritation. Anna tensed as her mind realized the situation she was in. She was locked in a room, blue from shadows, with a man that she knew, for certain, was crazy. And to make matters worse she was irking him. Peter, paused for a moment, and took a deep breath. He was acting too rashly. Closing his eyes, he got hold of his anger, and asked, more calmly, "Did you hate travelling with me, and Sonya, and Edward?"

"No! Why would you think that?" Anna's mind was too muddled with mixed feelings now to even comprehend why Peter thought this of her. Desires fought against common sense, and it was too hard to tell which one would win. Anna prayed it was her sense as her mouth babbled on, "All of you were so nice. Well...Sonya was nice. Edward was interesting, for lack of a better adjective. And you! Well, you were just amazing to be around."

The girl gasped at her own words, and smacked her hands across her mouth. Her eyes were wide as she vaguely wondered if she had truly said that last sentence. The words kept replaying in Anna's mind until she was more than certain what she had said had been uttered. Apparently, her common sense was weaker than she had hoped it to be. Or perhaps her desire was just too strong.

Peter, for once in his life, was struck dumb by her words. His eyes had snapped open, and he felt it slightly hard to breath. Peter's heart had jumped, happy to be right to some extent. Even if he was right in a way that he hadn't thought of. He could feel the waves of confusion from Anna, and knew if he confronted her choice of words, she'd break down in tears from stressed confusion or emotionally shut him out. If asked how he knew this, Peter wouldn't be able to explain it; he simply knew.

Used to adapting quickly, Peter went on to his next question, "Did you hate the trouble? Fighting in that bar? Sneaking into that mansion? Pissing Candice off?"

A flicker of amusement passed through Peter's mind at the mentioning of the last situation. His ex-stalker, a succubus, had actually met her match in the form of Anna. Manipulation, and arousing jealousy from both sides of that battle was fun to watch. All the while, though, Peter knew he was cheering for Anna to win. Candice, though alluring as she was, was as predictable as a romance novel bought at an old woman's garage sale. Anna, on the other hand, could actually surprise him.

"That was all nerve-wracking, though!" replied Anna as she dropped her hands from her mouth; she somewhat thankful for Peter overlooking her earlier slip of tongue. She could feel her hands starting to shake, though. Maybe it was fear of something Anna was trying to block from her mind, or maybe just remembering those adventures were bringing back adrenaline-filled memories. Anna was too washed up in confusion to tell, and she didn't care. She feared what the answer truly was.

"Did you hate it, though!" snapped Peter, fed up with asking questions. He slammed his hands against either side of the wall next to Anna's head, and glared down at her. The girl jumped, and stared up at Peter with eyes wide. The quivering in her hands started to creep over her whole body, now. It was as if it was a disease, slowly crawling through her arteries. Anna could feel tears of embarrassment flood her eyes; she hated the fact that she was trembling like a weak, terrified, little mouse in front of Peter.

"It was stressful, and--" She couldn't look Peter in the eye as she spoke, and had her gaze cast off to the side. Anna was almost thankful that he had interrupted her, though, because it gave her more time to regain her composure. In the back of her mind, the little imp that desired the most extravagant things, also noted that it'd keep Anna and Peter in the room alone longer, as well.

"Did. You. Hate. It?" growled Peter, through clenched teeth. He was tired of her not answering his question. Just a simple 'yes', or 'no'; preferably the former. The red-head was a bit surprised to see her quiver; having travelled with her for so long, she always seemed to scrounge together a facade of strength, even in the most dire of times. Peter lowered his hands from the wall, though, and placed them back on Anna's shoulder. Almost instantly, the trembles that wrought havoc with Anna's nerves subsided.

"No," murmured Anna, still unable to bring her eyes to Peter's face. She was staring off into the blue-black darkness of the room. A couple of confused tears had overflown from her eyes, and were streaming down her cheeks. The rest of the tears were held back, and soon forgotten. Anna's words continued to flow from her lips, without much interference from her mind, "I loved the trouble, despite the danger, and the worries. I knew you'd get us out of it, in the end."

"If you liked it so much, they why are you going to settle for this guy? Why do you want to marry him so badly?" Closing his eyes, Peter leaned closer to Anna, pressing his forehead against her's. He paused for a moment, before cracking his eyes open, and adding, "And none of this 'I want a normal life' bull, Anna. Despite your blue blood, you're a devilled egg."

Peter grinned as the flicker of a laugh twitched the corner of Anna's lips into a split-second smile. The laugh died without being heard, though, as it was crushed by the sad confusion that Anna was feeling. Even in all of his seriousness, Peter had to use his lunatic lingo. Anna realized, sadly, that she understood his meaning perfectly: Despite her cautious aristocratic background, she was a daredevil of a chick at heart. In a way, Anna knew she couldn't disagree. After her latest escapade of hijacking a car, and literally flying it over a gorge, Peter had his argument won without giving her a chance to counterattack.

"Marrying Greggory will make my family happy," Anna realized how absurd murmuring that statement was. Peter would easily counter with another question. But, an old part of Anna didn't find any foolishness in it at all. The Anna that was taught to keep her elbows off the table, and where reputation was just as important and monetary gain. The Anna that was in control before she met those three looney guardians that dragged her into all sorts of messes.

Peter openly scoffed at her words, and, just as Anna had predicted, countered, "Piss on your family! What'll make you happy, Anna? What do you want?"

Finally, Anna's eyes darted to Peter's face, and there they stayed. She couldn't take her grey eyes from his abnormally light blue ones, she never could. Slowly, Anna pressed her back more firmly against the wall behind her, as if trying to sink into the wood, as she realized that Peter was leaning in closer. She could feel her face flaring up in a flush, and tried to stubbornly fight it down. In the back of her mind, the little imp was cursing Peter for using her blatant weaknesses against her. The biggest of which, at the present time, was himself.

There was a smug glint in his eyes that Anna took as a challenge. A challenge to give in to him. Usually her answer to this was to play the same game with Peter, until she could find a moment to completely obliterate the most probable ending to the game. This time, Anna was fighting against doing just that. And she was losing. Terribly.

"I want--" started Anna, just as Peter's lips brushed against her lips. She faltered, most of her thought process deteriorating at that simple touch. Her lips were still parted in mid-sentence, and her eyes wide, blinking, as she sluggishly tried to remember what she was about to say. Anna couldn't stop from wondering why Peter was doing this. Why would he have a reason, though? The man was a lunatic, acting on whims not even he could explain. The imp scolded Anna, telling her she should've learned that much by now.

Contrary to Anna's thoughts, Peter did have a reason for this action. He liked Anna, and she, somewhat, returned his feelings. For their trip in life together to be cut short, now, just as their relationship was becoming something that neither wanted to throw away...well, that'd be a pity to say the least. If he could get Anna to fall into that want, and desire, Peter hoped he could coax the girl to choose the life of misadventures. She didn't have anything else to look forward to, other than bearing snot-nosed, noisy Greggory-offspring, and acting as a housekeeper to the estate.

Just her reaction was informing him how easily she'd be persuaded. Peter just couldn't hide his smirk. Tilting his head to the side, he let his lips brush against Anna's again, as he said, "You want..."

Anna was slowly leaning into Peter, as her hands moved to press against his chest. The girl just couldn't keep from falling to these desires she was trying so hard to squash. Protesting common sense tried to stop her from making, what it considered, a huge mistake. She was to marry Greggory Martin, and become a highly respectable aristocratic woman! She couldn't dilly-dally from her duties with fiddle-faddle like this lunatic!

However, with each second that ticked by, it was becoming increasingly hard to see why not. Why couldn't Anna just forget her duties? She had other sisters to tend to the family's reputation, and social standings. Let one of them marry that twit. By now, she was just about to take the first step into a world full of chaos, with the world of needlework unable to reel her back in, "What I want is---"

The locked door was forcibly kicked open, and accompanied by a yell in, what someone believed to be, a heroic tone, "Get your hands off my fiancé, you miscreant!"

Greggory.

Reality sliced into Anna's mind, just as the open door way leaked bright light into the dark room. Instantly, she shoved away from Peter, and pressed her back up against the wall again. What was she about to do?! She was about to throw her whole life away for a pyscho! Apparently, insanity was contagious. More than ever, Anna was confused. Usually, she made the right choices. The choices her family wanted her to make. Anna never had qualms about the decisions, and quite liked them! But now? With this red-head around her, she wanted to destroy one of the most long-awaited decisions. For what? A life of adventure, and, most likely, premature death?

But, what did she have waiting here? A world full of pressed clothing, and dull days full of monotony. Where not even a surprise was truly spontaneous. Did Anna truly want that, after living an adventure for a sparse amount of time? Adventure itself was an addiction, and just standing there, Anna realized how much she wanted a taste of it again. The fibers of her body seemed to throb for excitement, and she hadn't realized how much she missed it until just now.

Duty, though, mattered more. Didn't it?

Peter bristled, having come so close to winning Anna back, before rounding about and glaring at the hapless hero. The man's eyes were livid with anger, and crackled in a homicidal fashion. All of his muscles tensed as his nerves were incited with anger and frustration. He had worked so hard, just to lose all of his work thanks to a single damned interruption! Greggory fearfully yelped at the demonic look that overtook Peter's face, and shirked back in fear as Peter snarled, "You couldn't wait five more damn minutes?!"

Greggory scrambled back as the angered red-head advanced towards him. Peter was flexing his fingers as if they were claws, and was thoroughly enjoying the image his imagination displayed of ripping the coward's face. Anything to subside this frustration.

"Peter," whispered Anna, almost inaudibly.

Peter turned on, again, staring at the girl. For a moment, his heart had jumped for joy, thinking that had been the end of her earlier sentence. Her demeanor told him otherwise. Anna's head was bowed, her shoulders slumped in defeat, and her fingernails were digging into the wall behind her. The sight of her had certainly doused his dark feelings of anger, and irritation. Now, though, Peter wished it hadn't, for what replaced those feelings were emotions of desolate certainty. Her decision was set, and it didn't bode well for him.

"Peter," repeated Anna, slowly turning her face to look up at him as he neared her. She didn't shed any tears, though Anna knew beyond a doubt she wanted to. Peter was anticipating her answer, she saw it written clearly across his face, despite his look of curiosity. In the back of her mind, Anna mused that he would've made a very good thespian, if he ever had the inclination to become one. The rest of her mind was a melancholy, dark, glob of despair as Anna continued to speak softly, "Please, leave."

A pang sliced through Peter's chest, and he barely covered his wince. Instead, he looked away from Anna, feeling as if everything was draining out of him - every feeling, every thought, every bone - leaving only a shell of a body as a remainder. Peter hardly nodded, before quickly turning on his heel and rushing out of the room. He didn't have to push people out of his way as he left; the crowds parted for him, as if just being touched by him would deteriorate their flesh. Peter was used to it.

Anna felt tears bite at her eyes as she watched Peter leave. Briefly, his shadow fell across her during his microsecond in the doorway. A wash of anguish fell over Anna as she saw how hunched up his shoulders were; how his head hung; how his fists clenched tightly. Heaving a sigh, Anna slid down the wall, to the floor, wishing all of her confusion would dissipate. Anna held her face in her hands as she felt the scornful imp of her mind arise: That's right, Anna, push Peter away. It's not as if he doesn't understand you, unlike everyone else you've ever met.