Chapter Text
Early February, 2016
simon
Penelope’s mum lets Baz visit for the weekends, now that school’s been back in for a couple of months.
I’ve been staying with her. Neither of us could bear to go back to school, but Baz couldn’t bear to be anywhere else. I think he wanted to close the Watford chapter of his life the way he’d always intended, rather than cutting it off as abruptly and tragically as we did.
It’s been nice. I’ve been talking to Penny enough to bring back some sense of normalcy, and also spending a lot of time not talking at all. Penny and I have baked biscuits and tarts, and one disastrous quiche. I had a go at painting her nails once. It’s fun, but it feels like playing at being Normal. Like this is a free trial of the rest of my life.
I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that The Mage killed Natasha Pitch. Well, not directly, I guess. He effectively hired vampire mercenaries, which is almost too ridiculous for me to believe, but the facts are there. I think I’ve known there was something off about him, but denied it, for far too long.
He manipulated and used me, and I see that now, but despite everything, I find myself struggling to break through the wall of denial and almost hero-worship I’ve had for him ever since he picked me up from a boys’ home when I was eleven and told me that I had some grand destiny to fulfill. For once in my life, I’d had a purpose, a reason to keep going, and I clung to it like a lifeline. Now, I’m starting to realise that I was just the means to an end for him, and that end was power. If he was the guardian of the Chosen One, vanquisher of the Insidious Humdrum, he’d have the respect of anyone who was anyone.
I want to think he cared about me as a person, but even that is becoming increasingly hard to believe.
I killed him.
I killed him.
I didn’t mean to. I just said ‘stop hurting me,’ and I guess Penny’s magic decided that the only way to make that happen was to make his heart stop. I think I’ll be seeing the moment he died for the rest of my life.
And I don’t have magic anymore.
I’m holding out hope that it’ll come back. Penny thinks my parents must have been magical, so there should be some natural magic in my blood, buried beneath the mass of what I’ve been using for eight years. It might be so weak that I’m practically a Normal anyway. I wasn’t expecting what I had to come back, and now that I’ve lived for a while able to be angry and excited and sad without the threat of going nuclear, I’m not sure I even want it to.
I can’t even feel Penny’s magic anymore. I used to like it a lot: herb-y and warm and cozy. When she first cast a spell near me and I couldn’t feel it, I cried for two hours.
At least she made it. At least Baz made it.
We’ve been spending a lot of time together at the weekends, the three of us. Penny leans against me like she always used to, and Baz sits a little way away from us, and holds my hand under the blanket. We’ve watched quite a few movies which it was apparently a travesty that I hadn’t seen: Star Wars, The Notebook, Harry Potter (which we stopped watching rather quickly, because it was just a little too soon), some Marvel movies , Die Hard. Sitting with the two of them feels like I’m finally home, like I’d been waiting my whole life for some semblance of peace, and I’ve finally found it.
Baz and I still haven’t technically told Penny we’re together. I’d be seriously surprised if she hasn’t figured it out by now, based on the near-constant longing glances and the number of times she’s come home and we’ve had to scramble to opposite sides of the couch, my cheeks a flaming red and his hair all over the place. She’s observant, and she almost certainly knows something’s going on between us.
It’s been three months now, since we became official. (We decided that’s our anniversary: 6th November) We’re happy and comfortable in our relationship. We’re both in this for the long haul. We say ‘I love you’ at the end of every Skype call, and every night before we fall asleep on the rare occasions that we get to spend a night together.
I went to Baz’s other house, the one that isn’t currently a dead spot, for a long weekend, and we finally got some alone time. If everything with the Mage and the Humdrum hadn’t just happened, we probably would’ve spent the entire weekend playing tennis on the courts near the house, and then falling into the posh silk sheets, but neither of us had the energy to do any of that. We actually mostly just talked, and slept, and held each other as tightly as we could.
(Sex is, logistically, a little difficult now that I have apparently-permanent wings and a tail. Even cuddling is, too. That’s okay with me. I’m happy to be the big spoon until I get these wings removed at some point.)
The lights are dimmed in Penny’s living room as the end credits of Pride and Prejudice (Penny’s choice) play, with just one of those rock lamps lighting the room in a pale orange glow. She disentangles herself from the blanket, and stands up, stretching her legs.
“Baz, it’s your choice next. What’re we watching?”
“Do you have The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy?”
“Ooh, good choice, I think so. Let me check.” Penny’s family still has a rather large collection of DVDs, so she walks through to a storage cupboard and starts hunting.
I turn to Baz, once she’s left. He smiles, leaning down to kiss me, gently as anything. We like to steal these moments. Once he’s pulled away, I move so I’m sitting cross-legged on the couch, facing him.
“I feel bad that she doesn’t know about us,” I say quietly, taking his hands.
“I’m happy to tell her. I was waiting for you. She’s your best friend.”
“I just don’t want her to feel like a third wheel, you know? When we’re all hanging out together.” Baz snorts at that.
“I think Bunce is mature enough to handle that. She has a boyfriend.”
“Okay, yeah, that makes sense. Let’s tell her—”
“Tell me what?” Penny says, strolling back into the living room carrying a bowl of popcorn and the movie Baz asked for. She puts the movie into the DVD player and settles next to me again, proffering the popcorn to us. She looks at Baz expectantly, and he looks at me, and I sigh.
“Okay, so, we’ve been meaning to talk to you about this for quite a while.” Baz nods at me to continue. “For— for a couple of months, Baz and I, we’ve, uh…” I trail off. I don’t quite have the words.
“We’ve been dating. I mean, we’ve been a couple. Boyfriends.” Baz finishes for me. I’m glad to see that he’s finding this as difficult as I am. He holds up our joined hands, and Penny’s face breaks into a grin, which she quickly stifles. She puts on a surprised expression.
“Oh, wow, I had no idea, that’s so surprising—”
“You knew already.”
“God, yeah. It’s not like either of you are any good at keeping secrets.”
“Hey, Baz is super good at keeping secrets. Did either of us know he was a vampire for seven years? No!” I say, and Baz smiles at me like I confuse him, but he’s not unhappy about it.
“Aww, standing up for your boyfriend, Simon?” Penny says, and I know that she’s decided our relationship is comfortable enough to be joked about immediately.
Baz, mercifully, changes the subject. “How did you figure it out? Like, what was the catalyst?”
“I kind of knew something was going on when Simon went to watch you practice every single week, and then I wouldn’t see him for the rest of the evening. And then once he came down to breakfast the next day with a hickey, and tried to pass it off as a bruise. And then when I offered to have him here for Christmas, he told me he was staying with you. And, finally, Baz casted On love’s light wings to save you.” She keeps pointing at each of us, jabbing us gently in the chest with an extended finger.
“Oh, we were terrible at hiding it, weren’t we?” I say to Baz, and he laughs, nodding.
“Yeah, I think just about everyone knew.”
“Mhm. There were bets placed on whether or not you were going to reveal your relationship before the end of the year,” Penny says, looking pleased with herself. “Gareth and Keris owe me twenty quid.”
“Of course they do. Can we watch the movie now?” Baz says, as I lay my head on his shoulder, and he kisses me again, barely a peck on the lips. Penny groans as she presses play on the remote.
“Oh, Merlin, you two are going to be all couple-y now.”
“Get used to it, Bunce. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.
—
May 2016
baz
I wish I could really stay at Bunce’s house. With Simon. Not go anywhere. It would be much nicer than still being at school, just without Simon.
I pretty much live for the weekends— I drag myself out of bed to an empty room every morning at school, without Simon there to blunder around at six o’clock and wake me with his noisy puttering. Then, I have to concentrate through a full day of classes, feed in the evenings, and then slump back into bed, over and over. Simon’s been the one who makes Watford interesting for my whole time there, whether it was with his anger and laughable insults or affection and quiet evening kisses.
Every Saturday, I drive down to the Bunces’ house, and spend the day with Simon and Penny, and then stay the night. Until we told Penny officially, I would drive back late at night, and I’d already be missing him, but now I can sleep over and talk to Simon alone, and then we can hold each other when nightmares inevitably come. It’s like a breath of fresh air, and it keeps me going as each week goes by.
One evening, I was kicking a ball about and chatting with Niall, when he brought up Simon, and I felt myself close off.
“How is he? Coping okay?”
“He’s alright.” I run to stop the ball, and kick it back to him with a little more force than was probably necessary. He runs after it, and I take a deep breath. It’s late Spring, and the air is just starting to gain the humid heat that comes with summer. The end of the year is drawing closer with every week that goes by, and I’m impatient to leave Watford, despite how much I’ve loved this school all these years.
“You guys are still together, right?” Niall says, puffing and panting. “I reckon you’d be a lot less happy if you weren’t.”
“Yes, we’re still together. I’ve been driving down to see him and Bunce every weekend. Why?”
“I’m asking because I’m interested, because you’re my friend, and I care about you.”
“Disgusting.” He laughs, and I can’t help but join in. I haven’t seen as much of Dev and Niall recently as I would have liked, which is a shame, because they are my best friends, as much as they piss me off sometimes.
“But, seriously, Baz, you and Bunce and Simon went through some shit in December, and I never hear you talk about any of it. You know we’re always here, right? It’s alright to talk. Toxic masculinity, and all that.” He picks up the ball, and walks over to me, heading toward the gear shed. I wait around on the field— those sheds make me miss Simon even more. They were a rather good private makeout spot.
It’s true that I haven’t talked to either of them much about what happened. There’s a couple of reasons for that, and one of them is that I’m not entirely sad about it.
Of course, I’m devastated for Simon. He lost just about everything: his magic, his mentor/parental figure, Ebb. And he now has wings, for some reason, which are a constant reminder for him of everything he used to have. And I’m sad that he can’t come back to school. But for myself?
It feels like justice has finally been served for my mother. And that makes me feel so guilty, because I’m glad that the Mage is dead. I’ve always disliked him, on the behalf of the Old Families, but in those few hours between finding out that he ordered my mother’s murder and his death, I hated him so much that I could hardly contain it. He was the reason I’ve grown up without my mother, he was the reason I’m a vampire. And I can’t be sad about his death, even for Simon. I’ve just avoided the topic completely, wherever possible.
It’s complicated. And I don’t want any of it to be said out loud.
Eventually, I do talk to Dev and Niall about that day, and about Simon, and they’re surprisingly good listeners. I’m also surprised at how much they can relate to us, and how much I actually didn’t know about them.
“Wait, you two are a couple?”
“Uh, yeah? We have been for a while? Did you not realise?” Dev says, sitting across from me at dinner, next to Niall, who’s blushing furiously. I guess being the frank one in the relationship runs in the family, since Dev’s my cousin, and he’s the only one who’s capable of talking about this with me.
Maybe it helps that he’s not a particularly sensitive soul, which also runs in the family. Niall’s spent so much time with us growing up that he’s practically family, but the Grimm-Pitch snark hasn’t rubbed off on him.
“Merlin and Morgana, nobody tells me anything.”
“Pot, kettle, black. You didn’t tell us about Simon, it took us walking in on you two for us to know anything. And, now, it turns out you were in love with him for years and just kept it to yourself!” Niall finally pipes up. He jabs his finger into the table dramatically with one hand, and the other looks suspiciously like it’s holding Dev’s. I smile— they remind me rather a lot of Simon and I, and I’m happy for them.
“What can I say? I’m elusive, secretive, mysterious, a child of the night—”
“An edgelord is what you are.”
—
Early July, 2016
simon
Penny and I are on our way to our fifth apartment of the day. So far, we haven’t found a single one we’ve liked enough to really consider renting, which is immensely frustrating, because I’ve been ready to go home for two hours and Penny’s absolutely set on seeing all of them today.
So far, three different real estate agents have assumed we’re a couple. The first time, we both laughed quite a lot and assured her that we are decidedly not, and the second and third time we just rolled our eyes.
I guess the assumption that a boy and girl trying to get an apartment together, both of whom look tired enough that we could be in our mid-twenties, could be a couple isn’t too much of a reach, especially since we walked in with my arm around her shoulders. That’s just how we are— especially since Christmas, we’ve gotten even more tactile than we used to be. It’s nice to have another person near you, when you feel like you’re in a dark place.
This final apartment has two bedrooms, a decent-sized kitchen, plenty of storage space. One of the criteria we had was ‘spacious’ since my wings aren’t exactly easy to control, and we wanted both bedrooms to be able to fit double beds. The apartment is technically going to just be mine and Penny’s (Baz and I decided it would be nice to live apart for a while, after rooming together for almost eight years), but we know that Baz will be here a lot, and Micah is flying over for a couple of weeks during the summer holidays.
I’m unbelievably excited for the summer. Baz will have graduated top of his class as expected, and we’ll all be legal adults, and all three of us are going to university afterwards. We can spend some time, before we throw ourselves back into education, just being young and happy and in love. Micah and Penny have planned a weeklong getaway— they’re going on a road trip somewhere or other— and Baz and I will have a week of dates and making out on the couch without fear of Penny walking in on us, and it’s going to be lovely. We’re going to drive to a beach somewhere, and Baz will cover himself with factor 50 sunscreen and I’ll drag him into the water, and when I kiss him he’ll complain that I taste like salt.
My relationship with Baz has almost entirely been smooth sailing. We’ve had a couple of arguments, mostly because I’ll say something about him being too good for me, or asking him why he’s even still with me now that I don’t have magic, or saying that I don’t need his pity. But we’ve gotten our communication skills pretty good now, and all of those kinds of arguments are rare. Time’s starting to heal the wounds we were all left with.
We’re both in this for the long haul. Our six-month anniversary of officially being boyfriends fell on a long weekend, back in May, and we got a cheap hotel room and a fairly nice dinner and then stayed between the sheets with my wings spelled hidden until after midday.
It’s nice to be living like this. I’m still talking to my therapist, and while I still have bad weeks sometimes, that’s been keeping me afloat. So has Penny. So has Baz.
We finally thank the real estate agent for the apartment, and then sit in Penny’s mum’s car and talk for half an hour about which one we liked the most. Penny’s been driving us around all day, and we’re both pretty exhausted, so we end up just idly chatting while we drive home, the car and the roads bathed in the orange-pink summer sunset.
—
About a week later, Penny’s spelling my wings away so that the suit I’m wearing to the Leavers’ Ball fits right. It’s dark blue, and it belongs to Dr Wellbelove, and I feel a little self-conscious considering that I just know Baz is going to look incredible.
I pick at the hem of my trousers, and Penny swats my hands away.
“Hold still, Simon,” she says, yanking my arms down to my sides, “Or I’ll accidentally make all of you invisible instead of just your wings.”
I sigh, and stand still for a moment as she casts These aren’t the droids you’re looking for , and suddenly even I can’t see my wings in the mirror.
“Will my suit fit over them now?”
“It should do. Put it on.”
Once I’m dressed, and Penny’s put something in my hair to stop it getting frizzy from the humidity, I think I’m ready to go.
“And you’re sure you don’t want to come too?” I say. She decided not to, claiming that she’d look sad if she went without a date, when even I have one.
“One hundred percent. Plus, I don’t have a dress: it’s not like I can go like this. ” She gestures to her current clothing (she’s in sweatpants which I think are mine and a t-shirt which I’m sure is mine).
“Fine, but I’ll take some photos. And, I’ll tell you if there are any surprising couples there.”
“I’d hazard a guess that you and Baz will be the most surprising couple, Simon.”
“Yeah. We’re going to steal the show.” Penny sits down on her bed, and I sit next to her. She looks like she’s working up to saying something. “What is it?”
“Do you want me to give him the ‘hurt him and I’ll end your entire existence’ best-friend talk?”
“What? Why?”
“It’s just—” She pauses, collecting her words. “You seem so much happier, now that you two are together, and I really don’t want you to lose that. Because as much as I do like Baz, he’s not exactly—”
“Nice?”
“Yeah. So, do you want me to talk to him? Because I can be pretty scary.”
“No. We’re good. And as much as he might not seem nice to you, he’s plenty nice to me.”
—
Almost everybody I’ve known for the last eight years is in this room right now. They’re dancing, paired off in mostly expected couples, and Penny was right about Baz and I being the night’s big gossip.
I slipped away for a moment about half an hour ago to go to the bathroom, and about three different girls and two boys asked me why the hell I had been joined at the hip to my ultimate rival all evening. I mostly just shrugged at them, trying to get back to Baz as quickly as I could.
The music has been getting progressively slower all night. We’re in the last hour of the ball now, and since people will probably start to leave fairly soon, they’re breaking out the romantic slow-dance music to encourage those here alone to get out on the dance floor together. After all, it’s common knowledge that almost everybody meets their spouse at Watford, and gets married very soon after.
The fact that being with Baz at the Leavers’ Ball makes people assume we’ll get married at some point is slightly terrifying. It’s not unwelcome, though— Dev made some offhand, joking comment like ‘ when’s the wedding’ to Baz earlier, and while I stammered and blustered Baz just said ‘we’ll let you know’ like the smooth git he is.
Someone says that this is the last song of the evening, and everyone dawdles to the dancefloor as the opening of Somebody to Love by Queen plays. Baz and I are still out there, among the few couples who’ve been dancing for almost the entire time. Everyone leaves space around us, like they’re afraid Baz will bite their head off if they stand closer than a metre away. I think it’s also so people can look furtively over their partner’s shoulder at us. I catch Trixie’s eye, and she winks at me, mouthing ‘ nice’ and pointedly looking at Baz. I wink back.
Baz pulls me closer, so almost our entire bodies are touching. His hand settles on my waist, and I don’t quite know what to do with my hands, so I just hold onto his. I think I’m stepping on his feet, but he’s still smiling.
“Sorry. I’m shit at dancing.” Baz huffs out a laugh.
“I don’t care. I’d still rather be dancing with you than anyone else.” The music rises in volume, and I can see people giggling and dancing wildly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Niall accidentally whack Dev in the face with his arm as he tries to spin him around. “Now, c’mon. I’m spinning you.”
I let one of his hands go, and step away for a second, and I almost trip as I clumsily spin. He manages to make it part of the dance, catching me with one arm and letting me tip backwards for a second before pushing me up, back to standing.
“Woah. That was dramatic.” I desperately want to kiss him.
“What can I say? I had to dip you at some point,” he says, taking my waist again. I pull him in close, and he releases my hand for a moment to fix my lapel, which had gotten creased at some point. His is perfect, still, despite the fact that we’ve been dancing (and slipping away occasionally to make out behind a bush, out of sight of the many gossipy students) all night, but I reach my hand out to press against his chest under the guise of tucking his shirt collar under his jacket. I like doing that: he claims his heartbeat is irrelevant because he’s ‘dead’, but it’s comforting to press my fingertips against it anyway. It’s grounding. That’s also why I like holding his hand so much. If I focus, I can feel his pulse in his wrist.
His forehead is pressed to mine, and we’re hardly dancing any more: everyone around us is spinning their partners and laughing, but we’re in our own little bubble of gently-swaying calm.
“Can I kiss you?” I say softly, because I don’t know who he’s told since I left Watford, and I don’t know if he’s comfortable with our relationship going from almost a secret to completely public, all at once. We’re standing so close that my lips are practically brushing his as I speak, and it’s not like it isn’t obvious we’re a couple.
“Absolutely you can.”
He kisses me, and it somehow feels like the first time it ever happened, going on a year ago now. It feels significant. It’s not burning heat and crackling flame, like our relationship so often is; it’s almost quiet, restrained, careful. It’s a movie kiss. As the lyric ‘ can anybody find me somebody to love?’ plays in the background, I can’t think of anything but him, and the feeling of my fingertips curling in the ends of his dark hair. I vaguely hear someone wolf-whistle and Dev shout ‘ get it, Baz!’ and I feel Baz smile against my lips, pulling away to grin at me.
A bubble in my chest bursts that I didn’t know existed, and I smile back at him, feeling that my heart eyes are probably just as meltingly soft as his are.
It’s kind of nice, being the centre of attention not because of me, for once, but because of us.
—
baz
As the night draws to a close, and almost everyone has left, Simon and I slip out to the hill above the football pitch for one last quiet conversation. As we left, yet more people asked us what the hell, since apparently anyone who knew what was going on with ‘Watford’s hottest new couple’ (Keris’ phrase, not either of ours) was suddenly rather important in terms of gossip.
Simon sighs beside me, and lays his head on my shoulder. I wrap my arm around his back, quietly humming Can’t Help Falling In Love, because they played it a while ago and I can’t get the damned song out of my head.
“That was… a lot, ” he says, yawning and slouching against me a little more.
“Not terrible, though?”
“Quite enjoyed everyone fawning over us, though. You look fit as hell.”
“Thank you. As do you.” I press a kiss to the top of his head and lay back against the grass. Fuck my suit jacket. Cuddling under the stars with my boyfriend is much more important.
He lies beside me and grabs my hand, absently playing with my fingers.
“Merlin. Who would’ve thought?”
“About what?”
“ Us. I know we’ve had this conversation before, but it’s still crazy to me that we made it to this point. Always kind of thought I’d die before I graduated Watford,” Simon says, and shrugs, as if what he’s just said isn’t so terribly sad that I can’t believe he said it nonchalantly.
“I don’t really know if you’re joking,” I respond, rolling to the side so I’m lying right next to him, cupping his cheek with my hand.
“I don’t know if I am either. Either way, I’m bloody glad I’m not dead.”
“I’m glad you aren’t dead, too, Simon Snow. I don’t quite know what I’d do if you were.”
I think it was the right thing to say, judging by how he pulls me into another heart-stopping kiss, his dew-damp hands startlingly cold as they brush over my cheeks. It’s summer, so the air isn’t freezing, which is a blessing because otherwise I’d probably have hypothermia.
He smiles up at me, grass in his hair, and the starlight is shining in his eyes (which sounds cheesy, and definitely is, but it’s true, sue me), and he screws up his nose as a piece of my hair tickles it.
“God, I love you,” he says. I don’t think the novelty of hearing Simon Snow say that is ever going to wear off. “So much.”
“I love you, too.”
—
simon
Baz’s car is quiet and warm, and the dark is making me kind of want to drift off here and now. I don’t doubt that Baz would carry me inside if I did. But the streetlights and the light of the dashboard is shining on his face, and I don’t want to stop looking.
He sees me looking at him in his peripheral vision as he drives, and reaches for my hand, squeezing it and letting them fall to rest on my thigh.
“Hey,” he says quietly, like he doesn’t want to disturb the peace, “Thank you for coming tonight. You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to. Felt weird not to come, since I made it this far. And, besides, I’d never pass up on the chance to see you in a suit.”
“Feels like the end of an era, right? I have to go back to Watford to get my things, but other than that, school’s over. We’re adults.”
“Mm. We’ve got uni to think about now, though, which is kind of crazy. And— I’ll have to be living as a Normal, which is sad, I guess. And different.”
“You’re not a Normal, Simon, you have wings.”
“I guess. And I have a mage best friend and a vampire boyfriend. I shouldn’t be so put out about this.” I sigh, shifting in my seat.”
“You have every right to be sad about it, love. What is it specifically that’s bothering you?”
“I don’t know. I’m just… worried, I guess, that you’ll get bored of me. I’m not a mage anymore. My magic was what was interesting about me, the thing that made me stand out, without it, I’m just kind of here. Like, I’m nothing special.”
I’m glad he let me finish. We try not to interrupt each other too much— trying to finish each other’s sentences just leads to misunderstandings.
Baz pulls the car over to the side of the road and turns to face me, sighing. He takes my hand.
“Simon, I can’t promise that our future’s going to be smooth sailing, but what I can promise is that I’m never going to get bored with you. I’ve wanted this, to be with you, for so many years, and it wasn’t your magic that made me fall in love with you. It was— it was how you’re stubborn, and never give up on anyone or anything, no matter how difficult it seems. It’s how you instantly sacrifice yourself for the people you love. How you asked for sandwiches at the leaver’s ball. And, in a slightly more shallow way, how you’re damnably attractive.” I let out a snort of laughter at that.
“So are you. Did I mention how fit you looked in that suit?”
“You did, but I’m happy to hear it again,” he says, with the undeniably teasing note coming back into his voice. “But, flirting aside, I know that me just saying this probably isn’t going to make you stop thinking like that, but I mean it. Wholly and truly. I love you, and I’m not going to get bored of you.”
“I love you, too. And it does mean a lot, to hear you say that.” I squeeze his hand, and lean across the armrest to press my lips to his. We let them linger, sweet and slow, with none of the urgency that’s always seemed to drive the way we kiss— I guess there’s nowhere we need to be right now, no immediate danger or time limit. We have all the time in the world.
Baz is running his thumb over my fingers as he speaks, punctuating his words with kisses dotted over the freckles on my face. “You know, Dev was joking with his wedding comments, but you’re seriously stuck with me. As long as you’ll have me, I’m yours.”
“I’m never not going to want to be with you, Baz, and that is a guarantee.” I pull away for a second, quickly considering whether it would be possible to clamber into the backseat. I decide, my brain semi-addled by all these romantic confessions and the kisses Baz has been placing strategically on the most sensitive parts of my neck, that we definitely can, and I unbuckle my seatbelt and maneuver my way between the seats about as gracefully as a hippo. Baz takes a second to cotton on, then miraculously manages to climb through after me without accidentally kicking or elbowing me with those long limbs of his.
We’re both giggling the entire time, and his hair gets messed up both by brushing his head against the roof of the car and by my fingers threading through it as I pull him into a more heated kiss, lying on my back across the seats. I guess Penny won’t mind if we get back to her place a little later than planned.
Baz smiles down at me for a second, after I pull his shirt off, and between the glimmer of unrestrained joy in his eyes and all the emotions which have come out of today, I’m suddenly a lot more optimistic.
I know we might have to go through some more shit to get to our happy ending. Life isn’t going to be easy for people like us.
But, when I think about my future, our future, for the first time in my life, I can’t wait.