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SIMON
“Aleister Crowley I’m living a charmed life. Dying in the Wavering Wood with none other than an imbecile of a Chosen One.”
“Hey!” I say, whirling around on Baz, my sword waving dangerously. Baz doesn’t even seem the slightest bit unnerved, the bloody prick.
The last thing I wanted to do on a Wednesday night was trample through the Wavering Wood with my sworn enemy. I should be in bed. I should be sleeping and dreaming about scones and worrying about the test I have tomorrow. I shouldn’t be going at it with Baz because he got us lost.
“What? It’s extremely poetic, don’t you think, Snow? You finally delivering the final blow by tripping over your own two feet but tragically killing yourself in the process. Shakespeare would be proud of this fine mess that you’ve made.” I roll my eyes, slashing away some more trees to clear a path.
“I don’t know what you’re on about, Baz. You’re the one who got us lost.” Baz scoffs.
“No I didn’t. You’re the one who tackled me and did some freaky magic thing.”
“Because you were plotting something! I had to stop you.”
“I wasn’t plotting anything!” I flash him a suspicious glare.
“Does anything look familiar? There has to be some way for us to get out of here. Maybe a spell?” Baz rolls his eyes in that condescending way that he does, taking out his wand.
“ Leave a trail of breadcrumbs !” His words fall strong and sure, full of confidence. His magic shimmers around us, hot like fire. The smell makes me think he set the forest on fire, but the spell simply lands on the ground, illuminating a path in a hazy golden glow. Baz turns to me with a satisfied smile and I’m so happy that I could hug him. Except I don’t. I grumble and follow the path.
As soon as I step on the path, it crumbles away and the trees actually move to block the way out. Baz furrows his brow, taking a step forward so he’s next to me.
“That… shouldn’t happen.”
“Baz… what does that mean?”
“Hold on let me try again.” He furrows his brow, this time his face seeming more concentrated.
“ Leave a trail of breadcrumbs !” He shouts. Another path illuminates a little ways over. We both scramble for it, but as soon as we get there, the path vanished and trees block our exit. Baz groans, lifting his wand up again.
“I wouldn’t waste the magic, blood-sucker.” Both our eyes widen as we whirl around to see who it is. I draw my sword up, letting my magic sizzle just beneath my skin, subconsciously pushing Baz behind me.
A woman steps out of the trees. She has earthy greenish-brown skin and hair that looks like moss braided back and adorned with flowers. She’s wearing a puffy little flower skirt that almost made her look like a little kid, but her face made me squirm as it settled on us, full of a kind of malice that seemed out of place.
“Nymph,” Baz breathes, his grey eyes trained on her.
“How do we get out of here?” I say, trying to stand tall and sound confident. Nymphs always put me on edge for some reason. Some of them are fine and actually really friendly (at least according to Agatha). But others… they always seem to have bad intentions, and this one is no different.
She leans against a tree, as if debating this, a playful grin on her face.
“You don’t.”
“We don’t?” Baz sputters, sending a vicious glare her way. The nymph smiles. Her teeth are wickedly sharp and I start to wonder if nymphs eat humans.
“The Wood doesn’t seem to want you to leave,” she says, cocking an eyebrow. Baz’s expression looks pained.
“Why wouldn’t it want us to leave?” She makes a tsk sound, shaking her head.
“Because the Chosen One needs to chose a path.”
“Excuse me?” I say, bewildered. In a flash, the nymph is in front of me, eyes wide.
“Tell me, Chosen One, have you decided your path?” I gulp.
“What path?” She laughs and I feel like I’m missing out on some sort of joke.
“You see, Chosen, this is where your tree of life branches off. You’re at a crossroads, and the wood wants you to make a decision. It’s tired of seeing your lovers squabble.”
“Excuse me?” The nymph wanders away and I hope that she’s just going to leave us alone. She walks across the clearing in the wood, bending over by a log covered in moss. She picks something up, twirling it in her hands and looking it over before nodding curtly to herself. She turns back to us, holding a bright blue flower in her delicate fingers.
“There are two options for you, Chosen. Chose one, and you’ll both make it out of here. Chose the other, and he’ll be dead before you even reach the White Chapel,” she says, turning to Baz. His face pales and I get this ache in my chest that something is about to go very, very wrong. I shout out, trying to stop the nymph, but she’s already blown on the flower. The petals fall away like dandelion fluff, glowing as they float their way over to Baz. Baz sucks in a breath, his grey eyes wide. Then, he’s on the ground in a coughing fit. I rush over to him, placing a hand on his back. I look up for the nymph to yell at her or curse her, but she’s gone with a gust of wind.
I turn to Baz, and my gut wrenches. Oh no.
BAZ
That bloody nymph could burn in Hell and I wouldn’t even bat an eyelash. Crowley, I’d set the fire. Because now Simon is holding on to me, standing so close that I could kiss him (or bite him), and I can’t even take a moment to appreciate how warm he makes my chest feel or how plain of a blue his eyes are, because my chest hurts .
It feels like someone put knives in my lungs and tied them together with a coarse rope that’s tickling the back of my throat. And I keep coughing and hacking, trying to get the feeling to go away, but it doesn’t.
“Baz?” Simon’s voice sounds small. And scared. Crowley, when’s the last time I’ve seen him scared. I should be flattered, but the stabbing feeling presses in tighter and I feel like I’ll never breathe again.
“Jesus Christ Baz come on uhh—“ Snow is far from prepared for emergency situations. I grunt, trying to sit upright and fighting the urge to go back into a coughing fit.
“C’mon Snow.” My voice is hoarse. “Let’s keep moving.”
I manage to stand and then we’re back to wandering around, Simon slashing away tree branches. Except he keeps looking at me like I’m a kicked puppy. The idiot is so caught up with staring at me that he trips on a tree root. I catch him.
“Crowley Snow can you go one second without thinking about my devilishly good looks and walk like an actually human being rather than the blubbering idiot you are?” Simon’s face gets red and angry, but before I can take a moment to fully appreciate it, I’m coughing again. After the fit ends, I pull my hand away from my face. It comes back bright red.
“Baz what is it?” I go to wipe my hands on my pants, but Simon Snow has to bloody catch my hand because he’s impulsive and doesn’t give a damn about my feelings.
“Baz!” He says, dropping my hand so quickly I almost wonder if I accidentally set fires in his hands.
“What?” I sneer. There’s that concerned puppy face again. Crowley I hate it, but I also want him to keep doing it. I really would do anything for Snow’s attention.
“Are you ok?”
“Just peachy Snow, how about you?” There’s no hiding the sarcasm that drips into my voice.
“Baz your hand is bloody.”
“You’re point is?”
“That nymph hurt you!”
“Brilliant observation Snow. We can always count on you to point out the obvious.” Simon groans, running his hands through his hair.
“Jesus Christ Baz can you just not?”
“Not—“ But I’m cut off by a series of hacking. I lean against a tree for support, closing my eyes. This is how I die, in the woods, all alone, with no one but Snow.
Then, it comes out. It passes through my lips, fluttering up into the air like a butterfly and falling down between the two of us. We bend down, looking at the vibrant flower petal speckled with blood.
Well shit.
BAZ- 1 WEEK EARLIER
I’m 17 years old and we’re learning about bloody fairy tales. Ms. Posibeif is droning on and on at the front of the classroom about true loves kiss and sleeping princesses and I want to barf.
I’m fully aware of how powerful fairy tales can be for spell work. Spells from stories like Hansel and Gretel can be powerful location spells. But I don’t really see the point in learning about the magical diseases of fairy tales and what to do if we just so happen to come across it in our own lifetime. Which is idiotic because there hasn’t been a reported case of these illnesses in centuries.
But still, I listen intently and take notes as Ms. Posibeif tells us about the rarest magical disease of all. She holds a big book in front of her, her small glasses sitting low on the bridge of her nose, letting the story speak for itself as she tells it.
“ Once upon a time there was a gorgeous princess. She had long curly hair that she braided back elegantly, adorning it with flowers. She had rosy cheeks and a smile that could make any prince swoon. She was the loveliest maiden of all, and had a line of suitors that followed her every move.
“The princess, however, did not have an interest in any of these suitors. She found herself more concerned with the palace guard, who slaved away day and night at her door, protecting her from harm.
“The princess was wholeheartedly enamored by the knight, her beautiful knight in shining armor who’s lips tilted up the faintest bit when the princess told her a joke, a wicked grin on her face.
“Then, one night, the princess convinced the guard to forget her duties for just a single night. She invited her to sit next to her and talk to her and laugh with her. The knight begrudgingly obliged, telling the princess over and over that she ought to get back into her position, but her smile told the princess everything she needed to know. The knight wouldn’t leave her side. At least not now.
“The night grew darker and colder. The princess leaned back on the knight, humming softly to herself as the knight braided her curls. Both were in their own bubbles of serenity, but they were soon shattered as the oak door to the princesses bedroom flew open.
“Immediately, the knight jumped in front of the princess, raising a sword to the beast in front of her. It was a woman, with green skin and moss for hair. She was completely out of place in the castle, but both girls immediately recognized the nymph.
“The nymphs eyes searched the room, settling on the princess, a wicked grin spreading across her face.
“‘My lady, you sure seemed to have wormed your way into a problem, haven’t you?’ In an instant, the nymph was in front of the princess, pulling her away from the knight, who shouted out.
“‘Let me go,’ the princess demanded, a low growl starting in her throat. The nymph tsked.
“‘You should know better than to play around with feelings you don’t understand, princess.’
“‘Let go of her,’ the knight shouts, finding her voice. And the nymph listens. She steps away from the princess, making her way towards the door with her head held high. Just before she reaches the exit, however, she bends down and plucks something that’s growing in between the floorboards. She turns, holding a flower in between her fingers.
“‘Love is a dangerous game, princess. Let’s hope it doesn’t kill you by the end of the week.’ The nymph blew on the flower and the petals floated through the room, heading directly towards the princess. The princess sucks in a breath, and the petals enter her mouth, retreating into her lungs, where they begin to blossom.
“The knight goes to chase down the nymph, shouting out angrily, but the nymph is already gone. She throws her sword against the wall in anguish, upset with everything and everyone, including herself. How could she let her guard down?
“The nights terrors we’re far from over. The princess began to double over, coughing and coughing with no end in sight. Immediately, the knight ran to her side, her hands hovering over the princess's back. She didn’t know what to do, nor what was going on. Then, the princess started hacking up flower petals.”
It was at this point that I stopped taking this bloody class seriously. Sleep spells I could understand. Cursed apples and true love’s kiss seemed like a stretch, but coughing up flower petals? That was downright stupid and childish. If it wasn’t Ms. Posibeif teaching the class, I might’ve begun to question the teacher having any real authority at all. I huff, leaning back in my chair and watching as Ms. Posibeif continued the rest of the story, occasionally letting my eyes wander to Snow, who was chewing his pencil thoughtfully, completely raveled in the story.
“ The princess spent three days in the infirmary, but she still didn’t get any better. The knight slaved away day and night, watching over the princess’s bed, a grimm expression on her face. Some people began to wonder if she was nothing more than a ghost. She hardly ate and was always the quietest person in the room. Every once in a while, she would stand by the princess’s bed, clutching her hand tightly as tears streaked down her cheeks. This was her fault, and she needed a way to fix it.
“By the third day, the knight was sick of waiting. She packed her things, holding her sword in a tight grip as she snuck out of the castle. She headed into the wood. She hacked at trees and trees and screamed over an over to the nymph. She screamed until her voice was hoarse and only then did she crumple on the ground and sob for her best friend, for the one person that felt like everything to her.
“‘You’ve caused lots of destruction in these woods, knight,’ a voice said. The knight recognized it immediately and she whirled around, holding her sword out in front of her. The nymph squints, studying the knights face.
“‘You are suffering,’ she observes. The knight barks out a harsh laugh.
“‘What did you do to my friend?’ The knight says through gritted teeth. The nymph walks around her slowly in an exaggerated fashion.
“‘Nothing she wasn’t doing to herself.’
“‘She’s dying.’
“‘I’m well aware.’
“‘Then tell me how to to fix it! You must have a remedy or-or something!’ The nymph shakes her head.
“‘Silly girl. You have the remedy.’ The knight is taken aback, her sword dipping the slightest bit.
“‘No I don’t.’ The nymph rolls her eyes.
“‘The princess is suffering. She has been for quite a bit.’
“‘Then fix her.’
“‘You really are thick, aren’t you?’ The knight growls. ‘The princess suffers from the painful heartbreak of unrequited love. The spell simply makes this love a tangible thing.’
“‘Who could she possibly love that doesn’t love her back? She’s the princess! Everyone’s mooning over her.’ The nymph purses her lips.
“‘Well…’
“‘Well what?’
“‘There is someone. Someone who’s never chased after her, but has always been the person closest to her heart.’ The knight furrowed her brow, trying to understand. She looks up at the nymph.
“‘You are the answer to the princess’s problems, knight.’ The knight furrows her brow.
“‘How can I help her?’ Her voice is full of sadness and underlying helplessness that makes the knight feel almost ashamed.
“‘You must show her that you love her.’”
The story goes on and on, talking about the knights internal conflict as she sorts through her feelings for the princess and how she ultimately confesses her undying love right as the princess is about to fade off into nothing. They kiss and get happily married and it’s cheesy and romantic and takes up the entire block. When the bell rings, I’m grateful as I bolt out of the class, forgetting about the story almost completely. Some people seem completely engrossed in the beautiful fairytale, but not me. There was no such thing as people returning unrequited love, so why should I even bother to let some story give me hope?
SIMON- Present
“Baz,” I say, reaching for him, then pulling my hand back. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what’s going on or how to fix it, but what the nymph said keeps thrumming in my ears. He’ll be dead before you reach the White Chapel.
“I’m fine Snow, keep walking.”
“Baz you’re not fine! You look like death.”
“Thanks Snow but that’s how I always look.” I growl.
“C’mon. I just want to get out of here.” Baz pushes himself up, trying to stand upright, but he immediately starts to sway, looking like he’s about to puke or go into another coughing fit. I jump forward, putting an arm around him and pulling him up. He groans, leaning against me and throwing an arm over my shoulder.
“You’re not fine, Baz. Can you just admit that?” Baz grits his teeth.
“Fine, Snow. I’m dying and it’s all your fault can we just get moving?” I huff, but start walking. It’s slow progress. I’m clumsy when I’m not carrying half of Baz’s weight and Baz can’t seem to go longer than ten minutes without having coughing up more flower petals. Each time he looks paler and I start to worry about how much blood he’s losing. That can’t be good for a vampire, right?
Then, Baz begins to shiver in my arms. I turn to him. His teeth are chattering and he looks visibly upset. I bite my lip before pulling away from him.
“Hey!” Baz says as he loses his balance for a second. I begin shrugging off my coat.
“What are you doing?” Baz says suspiciously. I huff, holding my coat out to him. Baz just raises an eyebrow.
“Just take it, you bloody git. You’re freezing.”
“Am not.”
“Baz,” I say, touching his arm. “You feel like a bloody ice cube.” Baz huffs, but takes my jacket anyways. It fits him pretty well and I try not to think about how good he would look in some of my other hoodies. I put my arm around his shoulders again, and we trudge on.
BAZ
I don’t know what game Snow is playing at, but just wearing his jacket makes the flowers in my lungs press painfully as they claw their way up my throat. It almost makes me want to take it off and burn it, but the jacket is warm and smells like Snow and I’ll be damned if I don’t take advantage of this opportunity.
I don’t know how long we’ve been walking. It could be hours or minutes or days. Time always seems to work differently in the Wavering Wood. I never really understood why, but right now it just seems to want to torture me.
Eventually Snow’s streak of not kicking and smashing stuff lets up and he kicks a tree.
“We’re never going to get out of here,” he says with a sour expression on his face
“I hate to agree with you, Snow, but I believe you’re right.” He looks up at me, blinking with an odd expression on his face. Before I can come up with something snarky to say about it, I start hacking again, this time coughing up a flower. Snow’s at my side in an instant.
“Jesus Christ Baz, maybe you should sit down,” he says, pushing me to the ground. I push him back.
“I’m fine, Snow.”
“We’re taking a break,” he says, sitting across from me warily. I huff, rolling my eyes. Snow furrows his brows.
“What are you doing?”
“What?”
“You have that look you get when you want to kill something.” Snow huffs, picking at the grass.
“I just… I don’t understand. What did the nymph do to you?” I stare at him for a moment. Surely he can’t be that dense. We learned about this a week ago.
“You don’t remember the fairytale Ms. Posibef told us? The one with the princesses?” Snow’s nostrils flare.
“They all have princesses, Baz.”
“The one with the princess who was in love with the knight,” I say, exasperated. Simon’s brows scrunch further and I can practically see the gears turning in his head. I can feel it too. His magic always puts off an anxious energy when he’s thinking.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Simon says. It’s a struggle not to roll my eyes again.
“What do you think? It’s the same spell obviously.” Snow’s eyes move up to meet mine for a minute and I feel my heart stutter in my chest. Curse his beautiful boring blue eyes. I want to kiss him.
“No it’s not,” he says.
“Of course it is!” I say, getting to my feet only to immediately get pulled back down as I start coughing.
“The coughing, the flower petals, the ominous nymph. It’s actually sad how on point this is.” Snow looks like I’ve just given him an impossible math problem and something doesn’t add up. I stare at him impatiently, waiting for his mouth to catch up to his thoughts.
“But that would mean you love someone. And it’s unrequited.” I scoff. I can’t help it.
“Brilliant observation, Snow.” Then the bloody cough comes back. Honestly, just let the bloody disease take me now it’s better than suffering through a conversation with Snow about feelings when I’m so obviously attracted to him and he has no idea. Crowley he’s thick but I would give him the entire universe because he is the universe. I want to hold his hand under the moonlight when flowers aren’t growing in my lungs and talk to him about mundane things and count his moles. I want to run my fingers through his coarse hair and kiss his nose softly and forget about the Families and the Mage and the Humdrum. I want soft nights with Simon Snow, where it’s just the two of us with a light breeze, our laughter mixing with the calming sounds of the forest.
Snow is looking at me odd and I can’t help but roll my eyes.
“What, I’m not human enough to have an adolescent crush?” I say, thankfully maintaining every bit of my usual bite and snark. Snow’s nostrils flare in frustration and my stomach flutters as his blue eyes meet mine, full of intense and unreadable emotions.
“I just don’t understand how it’s unrequited,” Snow mumbles softly. I fix him with a stare.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Crowley Baz I don’t know! You’re— you! You’re smart and posh and every girl in Watford is practically mooning over you because you’re— well— fit! Who could you possibly have a crush on that wouldn’t… like you?” You, Snow. Always you.
“Maybe it’s not a girl , Snow.” It slips out before I even realize it. I stiffen, looking anywhere but him as my eyes focus on the ground. I don’t know what look he’s giving me, but his silence puts me on edge. Then…
“Oh. Then who’s the guy?”
SIMON
Baz is gay. I mean, obviously it makes sense in a way and it’s not really a big deal, but for some reason I feel like it is. I don’t know. Maybe it’s because Baz is finally starting to open up to me and trust me. I mean, this is the most I’ve ever heard him say about himself and his personal life. It feels noteworthy. It feels significant in a way that makes my heart pound and my stomach do somersaults, but I don’t think about that. Because I asked him who he likes, and he surprises me by sighing and surrendering.
“It’s a boy in our year. He’s absolutely the most idiotic person I have ever met but he does it in a way that’s somehow charming and adorable. He’s painfully clumsy and the most beautiful boy I have ever seen.” Baz has this soft look on his face that makes my heart do more weird things. Maybe I have a health condition. I should ask Penny about it if we ever get out of here.
“Hmm…”
“What?” Baz snaps, his walls going back up almost immediately. I want to tear them down brick by brick.
“I dunno. I just always assumed your type would be someone posh and rich like you.” And then… Baz laughs. At first I wonder if he’s having another coughing fit because I’ve never heard him make that sound before, but then I realize that this is Baz’s laugh. It’s so unlike him. It’s kind of messy and his nose scrunches up and when his mouth opens I can see a glint of his fangs. His grey eyes shine and it’s a whole scene. Everything about it is imperfect in a way that Baz isn’t, but that somehow just makes it even more perfect. I want him to laugh more.
“Crowley, Snow, you just think I’m shallow.” I snort.
“Well yeah, you kind of are. I couldn’t imagine you ever falling for someone who isn’t put together and bloody handsome.” Baz rolls his eyes, but his smile doesn’t leave his face. I sigh, a grin spreading across mine as I stare at his smile, specifically his lips. Baz is… I don’t know. But I want him to keep talking like this. I want him to keep talking with that soft smile on his face about clumsy boys that I wish were me.
Wait…..
BAZ
Simon stands up suddenly as if he’s just been shocked. His magic is almost immediately floating around us and I wonder if somethings come to attack us as I get to my feet as well. Simon coughs, not meeting my eyes.
“We should um… keep moving. We uh… we should try to get out of here.” Crowley I haven’t seen him stutter this much since first year. Maybe I broke him by acting like an actual human being. Or maybe he became aware about how weird it is to sit in the forest with your enemy and talk about crushes.
“Yeah. Sounds good.” Something about this trek through the woods seems ten times more awkward than the first time. Snow cuts away bushes and branches with his sword, a small frown on his face. I can practically see his brain short circuiting and I just want to know what he’s thinking.
SIMON
I don’t know what I’m thinking.
BAZ
I don’t know how long we’ve been walking, but I do know I’m getting worse. I can feel the pain in my chest as my lungs ache, and it only gets worse every time I flash Simon a concerned look. I need to sit down. My legs feel heavy and I feel light headed from all the blood loss. I can also smell the blood of every goddamn creature in the Wavering Wood and it’s driving me completely mad. I’m starving and if Snow ends up cutting himself on his bloody sword I don’t know if I can stop my fangs from making an entrance.
The night gets colder. I pull Simon’s jacket closer around myself, shivering. I could fix this with a heat spell, but I don’t have the energy. It begins to dawn on me that I might actually die because of the stupid curse the nymph put on me. I definitely won’t make it out of this forest.
“Hey Baz. You ok?” Simon says, grabbing both of my shoulders. His hair shines in the pale moonlight and his eyes are blue, blue, blue. I feel like I’m drowning in them.
He touches my cheek and hisses.
“Christ Baz, you’re ice cold.” I grunt. He studies my face, his eyes searching for something.
“Baz! The blood!” he says, letting go of my shoulders. I’ve only realized how much I’ve begun to rely on his firm grip when I start to fall forward towards him. His arms loop around me, holding me up and I’m too weak to swoon.
“Baz you’ve lost too much blood. You need to feed.”
“I’m fine, Snow.” I’m so tired. I cough and more flower petals come out and I feel completely and utterly hopeless. I’m in the arms of the boy I love, but it isn’t enough. Of course it isn’t.
“No Baz. You’re not.” His voice is firm. “I know you’re a vampire, alright? And I know you need blood. You’re losing more than you have in your body.” I grunt, but don’t confirm or deny any of it. “You need to feed Baz.”
“No I don’t, Snow. C’mon let’s keep going.” I push away from him, starting to trudge through the forest again. He doesn’t follow. Instead, he grabs my hand and pulls me to a stop in front of him. Flower petals escape my lips.
“Baz I will hunt down a bloody deer for you and force it’s blood down your throat if you don’t fucking take care of yourself.” I flash him a hopeless look that was far from intentional.
“What’s the use of taking another life if I’ll be dead in the next hour, Snow?” Simon’s jaw sets in the way it does when he’s gearing up for a fight. His eyes flash and I want to kiss him so much it hurts. Literally. I can barely breath. This conversation is already too much.
“You’re not going to die!”
“Bloody well seems like it, Snow,” I say between coughs. His hand tightens on mine. It’s almost painful, but it’s also the one thing keeping me grounded.
“You’re not going to die,” he says through gritted teeth. “You… can’t.”
“And why not, Snow? It was going to happen eventually better sooner rather than later, right Snow?” He drops my hand to run his through his hair and I feel myself sway on my feet. I think I’m going to fall, but suddenly he’s there in an instant, holding me against him tightly and keeping me upright. I can feel his heart pound a million beats per minute and I can barely think of what that means.
“No. You’re not supposed to die, Baz.”
“Yes I am!” I’m laughing hysterically now. Our whole lives the only constant has been that one of us, if not both, will die, and now he’s trying to change it because he thinks he’s a god and nothing can touch him. Crowley I love him. “I was always supposed to die. You’re the fucking hero of this story, Snow. You were going to have to kill me because it was your fucking hero’s destiny or some shit.” Simon’s eyes are wide and piercing into my own and I can’t find it in me to look away. His cheeks are flushed and he’s breathing heavily and I’m lucid from the blood loss. He’s so close and all I want to do is kiss him and his stupid moles until I forget my name.
“Or not,” Simon says, with the fierceness of a raging fire. I can feel his magic in the air around us. It’s thick and anxious and he looks full of worry.
“You can’t change destiny, Snow. That’s not how it works.”
“My destiny doesn’t end with you dying.”
“It bloody well does, Snow.” His hands are fisted in my shirt and he has that look in his eyes that makes me think he’s going to punch me.
He jerks me towards him so fast that I don’t realize what’s going on until his lips start moving against mine and I stop breathing.
Simon.
SIMON
Baz isn’t allowed to die. I decided that a while ago. Down the line, the Humdrum or some other monster might get to me, but Baz doesn’t get to die. He has to be the one that makes it through all this, I just know it.
I don’t want him to die. He might be a vampire and a snob, but he’s absolutely perfect and beautiful and so much more. I can’t even describe this warm feeling in my chest as I push his back against the tree, snogging him like my life depended on it, because I don’t hate him. The way I feel about him is like a fire that has been burning for eons, and it’s not going out anytime soon.
He doesn’t react at all and, for a moment I think I’ve done something wrong. He told me that he liked someone else. He definitely doesn’t want to be snogging his enemy in the forest on a Wednesday night where he could die at any moment.
But then, Baz fists his hands in my hair and pulls me up towards him, gasping like he’s just found out how to breathe again.
BAZ
I couldn’t breath. The flowers were blocking my throat and I knew then and there that I would die.
But maybe the universe didn’t want that today. Maybe there is such thing as miracles. After all, Simon’s hands are on my cheeks and he’s kissing me softly and slowly, desperation leaving him as he sighs, his fingers winding through my hair.
The itching feeling in the back of my throat receded entirely and as I pull back for a moment, gasping for air, I remember how good it feels to breathe. I close my eyes, savoring this moment to keep for forever.
Simon’s standing in front of me, breathing heavily, his blue eyes wide with curiosity and fear. My heart flutters at the blush that spreads across his face and I make it my life goal to spend every breathing hour kissing Simon Snow as I bring him back up to me.
SIMON
I don’t know how long we’ve been kissing, but it doesn’t feel like enough when Baz finally stops. We’ve somehow made it to the ground, Baz’s back still to the tree. I’m sure I look like a disaster.
“Sorry,” I say, breathlessly. Baz gives me a look.
“Why?”
“I kissed you,” I mumble sheepishly. I wish I could stop the blush that comes to my cheeks. Crowley, I kissed Baz. And I want to do it again.
Baz is still looking at me like I’m a puzzle he can’t figure out.
“Yes. Yes you did,” he says curtly, shifting away from me slightly. My chest pangs slightly.
We’re silent for a few minutes. Then….
“Why did you kiss me?” His expression is unreadable. I look at the ground, tracing my fingers through the dirt and shrugging.
“I wanted to.” The silence between us stretches on for an eternity.
“I’m sorry I know you like someone else and I shouldn’t have kissed you—“ it all comes out in a rush, my feelings, my regrets, everything. “—you’re just so… ugh. You drive me crazy Baz and I know you would never feel the same, Crowley I don’t know what I’d do if you did, but I like you and I’m sorry I know you hate me—“ but then he’s kissing me again and I can’t really complain. He’s so cold, but I can’t find it in myself to care. I just want to keep him here, under my thumb where he isn’t hurting and isn’t off plotting something.
“It’s you,” Baz whispers, our foreheads pressed together. I wrinkle my brow, trying to figure out what he means. He kisses my forehead.
“Crowley Snow, I’ve only ever loved you.” I don’t think I’ve ever smiled this much in my life.
BAZ
Simon Snow is going to be the death of me. I always knew he would, but somehow I pictured something bloody with tears and pain and maybe, maybe a sorrowful kiss. If I was lucky.
Never would I have ever even dreamed that Simon might kill me like this, with soft kisses, his hands weaving their way through my hair and making it a complete disaster.
This is more than I could’ve ever hoped for, but it’s all I’ve ever wanted.
——
The sun is beginning to rise when we finally make it out of the forest. I fed, which was one of the most awkward things I have ever done and I hope I never have to suffer through that again, and Snow took my hand in his a while ago and it makes me feel like I’m walking on sunshine.
The nymph awaits us outside the forest and I almost lunge at her, but Simon’s hand tightens in mine. Although he isn’t doing much better himself. His jaw is clenched so tight it’s a miracle he hasn’t broken any teeth.
The curse lifted as soon as Simon kissed me. The bloody idiot didn’t even realized that was all it took. I almost felt bad when he snapped out of his euphoria after kissing me (I can’t believe it) and started panicking about me dying. It was quite sweet, but also very amusing to watch. He’s never going to live it down.
“I see you two worked it out.”
“Next time you decide to put some death curse on one of my friends, don’t,” Simon growls. The nymph just smiles and retreats back into the forest, humming a happy little tune to herself as if she didn’t almost kill me a few hours ago.
“Friend hmm?” Simon bites his lip, taking my other hand.
“I mean, I don’t know what this all means..” I frown at him. He frowns back.
“I mean.. ugh.” He runs his hands through his hair, looking exasperated. “I’m really bad at this. You know… the whole boyfriend thing. Agatha thought I was rubbish at it which is probably why she dumped me I just…” He takes a deep breath, his cheeks tinged pink.
“I don’t know what you want Baz. You’re so infiltrating and I can never understand what the hell you want. I want to be your friend, and I definitely want to be something more, if you’ll have me.” He says the last part in a voice so timid it makes me want to pull him to me and kiss every single one of his moles. I hardly have any self control around him, but I’m not losing all of my dignity.
“But the families, and the Mage… they won’t like this.” I internally curse myself that that’s the first thing I say. Maybe I’m more self destructive than I thought.
Simon huffs, jutting his chin out defiantly. “Screw them. I never wanted to be part of their stupid war.” I don’t know why, but that makes me laugh. It’s gross and I hate the way it sounds, but the smile on Snow’s face makes me melt. I take a deep breath, putting a hand on his cheek.
“If you’ll have me, I’ll be yours, Snow.” And Crowley the way his eyes light up, I can already feel myself burning from the inside out. But I like this burn. I like it a lot.
“No.” I raise an eyebrow.
“No?”
“If we‘ re doing this boyfriend thing, you have to call me by my name.”
“Snow is your name, Snow.” He shakes his head, a cocky grin spreading across his face.
“Call me Simon.” I scoff, pulling away and crossing my arms.
“I will not.” I pause for a moment. “...Simon.” Then, we’re both giggling like little school-girls and I feel like everything in my body became lighter. I like this feeling. I like it a lot.
“We should uh… head back.” Simon purses his lips and nods.
We walk back up to our room, hands linked, the entire world turned upside down, and all because of that stupid nymph.