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Baz
Some idiot has cast "And there was only one bed" today.
And managed to change any beds within a clear 10 feet of space into one, single, bed.
And it's irreversible.
And nobody can replace the beds...
because they have been magickally glued to the floor.
This is one of the rare times I hate Word Studies and Simon Snow at the same. Exact. Time. This is what we get for studying popular phrases from fanfiction.
This is what we get for allowing the Chosen One to hold a wand.
If I wasn't in love with him, I'd never admit that it was my fault. But I was goading him. Teasing him. Again. So yes. My fault. But also his. How was I supposed to know that with one line he'd manage to screw my life over even more than it was already?
From what my vampire hearing picks up, Bunce is absolutely furious. She has some sort of hate for her roommate, Trixie. I don't think the boys mind. In fact, they look a little too comfortable with it. I'll have to ask them about that later.
Actually, if I'm being honest, no one really seems to mind. Couples have started popping out of nowhere.
It's been three days since that idiot cast the spell.
And every night I have hidden from him in the catacombs.
It's not like we actually need our. Singular. Bed. He chases me all night, I cover myself in hiding spells and cushioning spells, and I sleep. Or I try to. Snow is terrible at sneaking around. Absolutely tosh at it. So I just listen to him. His heartbeat and breathing ricochets off the walls and I don't feel so alone. I have my mother next to me, and Snow, somewhere just around the corner. It's all I've ever really wanted, really.
Well. the Snow thing is relatively new. I realized when my eyes trailed past his hipbones. So now I don't even think I can stay in the same room with him without wanting to drain him dry, spit in his face, or shag him senseless. Or all three. Maybe not in that order. I'm disturbed, ask anyone.
He's driving me insane. He follows me everywhere. I can't even breathe in peace. He follows me and I can't slip up. I'm still so new at the feeding thing. But I think I'm getting the hang of it. That and the hunting spells I have to use. It's so hard sometimes, to make sure I don't randomly lose myself to the thrist and attack someone.
I'd never forgive myself if I did that. These dumb blood sacks walking around may be so enticing, but my mother would have lit me on fire if she knew what I was. If I bit anyone, I don't even think my Father could forgive me. Daphne could. She's very soft. But I don't think she would stop my Father from lighting me like a match to flash paper.
I think I might even have to end myself. Snow is killing me. He's wandering around. Night and day. Haunting my steps. And now, if I ever want to sleep, I have to share a bed. With him.
Which doesn't sound to bad now that I think about it.
Because I'm very, very gay.
Specifically for Simon bloody Snow.
But he is as straight as can be. He is going after Agatha Wellbelove, who objectively, is a pretty thing. But not really. I mean. She doesn't have a prick, and those weird fat sacks on her chest have no appeal. But she's got a nice face, and a great seat. So I guess I understand.
Which makes it so much easier to rile Snow up by flirting with her.
Because I know he wants her.
So that means.
No sleeping with Snow.
Obviously not shagging, but I can't even let myself in that room at the same time as him. I don't know if I could stop myself from pinning him on that wide mattress and kissing him.
Carefully.
I don't want to Turn him.
I'm monster enough for both of us.
And the world would fall into chaos if the savior of the Magickal world became a dark creature.
Like me.
I'm an abomination.
So yes. In general.
No sleeping with Simon fucking Snow.
I love my life.
It doesn't help that he brings Bunce into that room constantly. She smells like chocolate, sage, and blood. She's got tangy, sharp blood. I nearly fainted when I realized she had spilled some blood on the carpet (she scraped her knee. I saw it happen. Simon tripped her by accident. Dumbarse). And the smell of fire and smoke everywhere.
And something like butter.
It's torture. The boy I love most smells like my doom.
It's basically the summation of our relationship.
I love Simon. I fight him. He goes off. In three years, we fight, and I let myself burn. Goodbye Baz. He'll be free from his tormentor. I can die in peace. I can join my Mother and ask her to forgive me.
It's a plan.
But it won't stay that way if someone doesn't fix the bed situation.
Because I can't stay in the catacombs any longer.
I actually fell asleep.
In Political Science!
The teacher pulled me aside and talked to me. I told her I was feeling a bit under the weather. It got me a pass. This time. I fear for when I actually die in a class from exhaustion.
That'd be right well dramatic. Might actually help my family some.
I wonder. if I died, and had a note that said The Mage did it in my pocket...
"Baz!" Snow is standing in front of me. Sword out. Wand in in his other hand. I sigh.
"Hello, Snow." I take a swig from the bottle I brought down with me this time. I thought it would help me sleep. It's not. It's making me think too much. I take a longer pull. Probably a third of the bottle slides down my throat. It burns.
"What are you plotting!" I groan and let my head drop back. Against my will, tears start to fall.
I imagine our fight in three years. Throwing myself onto his sword, using my dying breath to tell him my secrets. I'm a vampire. I've been in love with you for so long. I've wanted to kiss that mole since I was twelve.
"Baz?" He lowers his sword and he looks confused. He shakes his head and raises his sword again.
"Tell me what you're plotting!" I shut my eyes tightly. The liquor makes my tongue loose. Fucking low tolerance.
"I'm plotting my own death, Snow! That's what I am doing! I haven't a proper bloody night's sleep in a month! My Mother would hate me! You," I pause to point at him in an accusatory manner, "are constantly- constantly following me around! I'm so fucking sick of it! I am plotting my death, Snow. Now go leave me alone so I can rid you of your worst anxiety!" I take the bottle and throw it at him. Hard. He barely sidesteps it. I stare at my empty hand. Fuck. There was still liquor in that. I notice the shattered glass. I sigh and pull out my wand. Snow tenses but I don't pay him any mind.
"As you were," the bottle flies back together, but the liquor that recollects in it is dusty and has questionable things floating in it. Fuck. What a waste.
"Baz. Tell me the truth. You- you can't be suicidal. You are evil..." I turn to him quickly, and I sway. I right myself and sneer at him.
"How dare you assume that just because I don't like you means it's my one purpose in life to torment you! Oh, I can't be suicidal because I'm your enemy, and you have to kill me, huh? Well, how about this, Snow?!" I advance on him. His sword is still at his side. His eyes are wide. I'm pretty sure my fangs are out.
"My mother was murdered by vampires, Snow. And you know what? She hated them. And her own son is one! That's right Snow! I'm a monster! I hate myself more than you could ever, ever hate me. And is it my fault that I can't take you following me all the time? That I can't stand being reminded constantly of how awful I am? Leave! LEAVE!" I scream at him but he doesn't move. He looks sad. He stands there and my anger drains out of me. I start to sob and I collapse on the floor. His sword disappears and he tucks his wand into his jeans. he bends down and helps me up. He practically carries me to our room.
Why is he doing this?
He puts my on the bed. It's so soft. I practically melt into it.
"You haven't bitten anyone," he asks quietly.
"No. I'm a monster, not a murderer," I reply. My words are become slurred. He nods and climbs in beside me. We are both still dressed.
"That's fine. Then we should probably get some actual sleep tonight," he says it factually. He's out like a light. There is a weird buzz coming from the dressed. I lean over unstably and I look at the desk. It's his cross. I take the chain carefully and put it on him. I don't want to risk it. I look at him for I don't know how long. I sigh and close my eyes and I sleep. I feel warm. It's Snow.
He's a bloody space heater.
-
Simon
I wake up before Baz. I don't mean to. But he's probably hungover as hell. But he needs to sleep. If I looked bad, he looked a lot worse. He looked really, really dead. He usually looks ghostly, but it's been really bad.
That's my fault. I mean. I spelled out beds together (by accident. Penny says it was by subconscious. Agatha... agrees?) and I have been following him.
I mean. I hate him. He's my nemesis. I will have to fight him.
So why do I not want to after last night?
Why do I want to stay where I am, and marvel at his face when it isn't twisted in a sneer, or pinched with pain?
Because I don't think I hate him anymore.
I saw Baz last night.
Not the fake one. The one he shows in public. This is Baz. Really Baz. And I want to keep that Baz. I want to take that Baz and make him stay out all the time. I want him like he is now. Soft. Peaceful. Still so fucking beautiful.
Bastard always looks gorgeous, half dead and hungover regardless.
We are tangled together. I'm holding him in my arms, hugging him close, wrapped around him like a blanket.
It's kind of uncomfortable considering we slept in our uniforms, but it doesn't matter because today is Saturday. I close my eyes and pretend I am still asleep. My fingers press against his pulse point in his arm. I can feel his heart beat.
Well. He's alive.
And although he admitted to being a vampire, I don't particularly think I care. I sigh and move closer but he winces and wakes up abruptly. I pretend to just wake up. I study him and realize there's a weight on my neck. I have my cross on.
But I took it off last night.
I know I did.
I know crosses hurt vampires and well, we were sharing a bed. I didn't want to accidentally burn him or something...
"Did you put my cross back on last night?"
"Yes. I'm a bloody vampire, Snow. What don't you understand about the term 'blood sucker?'" He frowns at me.
"Well, you said you'd never bite anyone, and I didn't want to hurt you. Didn't see the point of wearing it," I shrug and he looks at me scandalized.
"Are you insane?"
"Possibly," I shrug and he scoffs. Oh god. What have I gotten myself into?
-
Baz
We've been sharing a bed for... a month now? It's kind of crazy. Snow puts up zero objection... and he's acting like we are best mates.
The boys got pissed about me wasting their childhood or something, but they just quietly accepted it. Good men. I don't understand.
How the fuck. Did a drunk confession. Get me here?
I walk dazedly up the steps and start to get dressed for bed. This is insane. I'm stripping off my trousers when Snow barges in, his cheeks red, his breath uneven, his heart beat erratic. He looks like he raced over here.
What in the name of-?
Simon
I figured it out. Fucking finally. I looked at Agatha, and I thought, 'not nearly as gorgeous as Baz. God I would shag him.' I actually thought that.
My brain.
Would like.
To shag.
Baz.
And it makes sense. My obsession. My sort of interest in Agatha.
All of it.
Baz is my missing piece!
And...
Considering I've never done this before I am guessing I should not have kissed him right off the bat before speaking to him about my feelings.
I quite literally grabbed the back of his neck and shoved my face on his.
And he didn't kiss back.
So I'm pulling away now.
Baz
He's pulling those gorgeous lips away from me. Oh fuck no you don't.
I grab him back and I kiss him just as fiercely. We are fighting. But it's a good sort of fight.
Oh god. It's everything and more I thought it would be.
A lot messier but it's Simon Snow so I am not complaining.
We fall back on our bed, snogging each other senseless.
And then suddenly we're falling on the ground. Since I'm on my back, snow has to cushion the blow to my head with his hands. We knock heads roughly and I thank Crowley my fangs weren't out so he didn't cut himself on them.
"What the hell?" He's staring at our bed.
Correction: beds.
They are back to normal. From the sounds around the school, it seems the spell has been reversed.
Well.
If magick says so...
I go right back to snogging Snow. He pulls away gently. I chase his mouth.
"Wait. Be my boyfriend, Baz," I pause, just a breath from those red, kiss-swollen lips. I breathe deep.
"Okay," I say after a pause, "Okay. Yes, Simon. Alright. Just shut up and kiss me already," I whinge at the end because now that I've had a taste I don't want to stop. He grins at me, almost a smirk, and he dives right back in for a kiss.
Okay then. I can work with this. It's almost like those fantasies where I burned. Because Snow is magick. He's burning. And it feels so good.
God I love him.