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Simon Snow kissed me last week.
No, Simon Snow asked me to kiss him last week. And I did. There comes a point where the kissing just becomes mutual, because in the last week, I can no longer figure out who’s been kissing who.
We’ve simply been snogging the bloody hell out of each other, and it has been wonderful. I used to avoid our room in Mummer’s because I couldn’t stand the thought of being around him, because the more I was around him the more I wanted to snog him, and the more I wanted to snog him the more I wanted to throw myself into the moat because it became more and more apparent that I would never get to.
Except, then I did. And now it’s been a week, and our room has become this sanctuary I think it was always meant to be. We don’t have to worry when we’re there, together. We don’t have to be enemies, we don’t have to hate each other. We don’t have to sort anything out, because every time my brain would start to twist around every bad thing awaiting us on the other side of our door, Snow would kiss me and remind me that ‘we can sort that out later’.
I can’t help but feel that ‘later’ is coming closer and closer the more we ignore it. But it’s hard to worry with Snow’s lips and tongue and teeth exploring my skin.
It is very easy to worry any other time, such as now, sitting across the table from Dev and Niall and watching Snow across the dining hall talking animatedly with Bunce. He’s got butter smeared over his cheek because he got excited over something as he was taking a bite of his scone, Bunce doesn’t seem to tell him.
“Earth to Basil?” Dev’s snapping his fingers in front of my face and I set him with a glare. How dare he interrupt my fantasies of licking that butter from Snow’s cheek.
“What did Simon do this time?” Niall asks, and I’m pulled back to our table with a shot of adrenaline. They couldn’t know, could they?
“What makes you think Snow’s done something?” I ask coolly. I hope it’s coolly. Simon Snow can’t be the reason I lose my ease and nonchalance.
“Hasn’t he always done something?” Dev mutters.
“You’ve been staring at him all through breakfast. For the past week, actually.” Niall points out.
Snow’s standing now, depositing his plate in a bin and waving to Bunce before he turns to leave the hall. I stand, leaving my tea behind and muttering something about Snow just being an idiot as usual.
I follow him from the hall, staying several steps behind him until we’ve rounded the corner outside the building. It’s still early, no one else is out here and I jog a few steps to catch up to him, grab his elbow and pull him to a stop.
He turns back to me with this sly smile that makes my stomach drop, or maybe flip, it’s doing something that it shouldn’t be doing.
“Never thought I’d see you leave breakfast early.”
Snow glances around, there really is no one on the grounds, everyone’s still at breakfast. Still, he grabs my wrist and pulls me into a shadowy corner.
“I thought of something more appealing.” Snow murmurs, pressing my back against the cold stone wall and leaning up to brush his lips against mine. There’s a snarky comeback on the tip of my tongue, but it’s stolen away as soon as Snow’s lips touch mine. This is the first time we’ve kissed outside of our room, a thrill shoots up my spine. His hands cup my cheeks, then move into my hair, and I have to suppress a moan as he pulls, bringing my face even closer to his. He tastes like sour cherry scones and sugar and peppermint. I’ll never understand his affinity for peppermint tea, but right now it’s not as unpleasant as it could be.
He’s still got that smear of butter on his cheek, I realize as he pulls back to catch his breath and I can see the sheen of it across his skin. I don’t even think before I swipe my tongue across it. Butter, another weird obsession of Snow’s that I don’t understand, but I can’t complain about it in this moment. Snow gasps softly, his fingers tightening in my hair, and I lick into his mouth again.
This is dangerous, at least it feels that way. This is something we’d only done in our room, in private, in this bubble we’d formed for ourselves where we didn’t have to worry about the reality of our lives. Snow may be good at not thinking about things, but I am not. I was only mediocre at pushing things out of my mind, with a good distraction, and I had managed to find a sanctity in Mummer’s. I could enjoy this with no worries, no anxiety about the future, no concerns about the Old Families or the Mage or the Humdrum. But now it’s out in the open, in a way. It’s moved beyond that, this is no longer something we do behind locked doors.
Apparently this is something we leave breakfast to do in hidden corners on the grounds.
This is something that needs addressed.
But, I’m at least mediocre at pushing things out of my mind with a good distraction. And Simon Snow is the best distraction.