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BAZ
It doesn’t happen every day that Snow and I arrive at the Dining Hall at the same time. He’s usually ready to go by the time I’m still in the shower, but today he got distracted with some homework he hadn’t finished the day before, so here we are. Snow and I, descending the stairs of our tower side by side, deep in an uncomfortable silence. At least I find it uncomfortable. He looks happy. He’s looking around at the Christmas decorations on display. And I’m trying very hard not to stare at his wide smile of pure happiness. It’s a hard task, but I’ve been training for the last three years.
There are lights decorating every column, Christmas trees in almost every room, full of hand-made decorations by the younger kids. I used to enjoy making those. I would spell them lit as young as eleven. It was amazing. There’s also mistletoe hanging over every door. I ignore those. Snow glances at me whenever we pass under them, but ultimately ignores them too.
I finally get to the door of the Dining Hall. There are very few students, and I can sense the smell of almond sweets with the usual breakfast. I step in, and get stuck.
I can’t pass under this door. Snow seems to be in the same situation.
I stare at him as he tries to get into the hall, and by the third attempt I think I know the sort of spell. It’s some barrier, but with the effect of a paralysis spell. Which words has the person used for this? I need to ask whoever did this as soon as I get rid of it.
“What’s with this?” Snow says. He’s getting frustrated.
We’ve caught the attention of some of the students with our struggle. Some are giggling, and pointing at us and at something above our heads.
“You must be kidding me,” I say.
“What?”
“Someone has spelled the mistletoe over our heads and we can’t go in.”
“Until you kiss,” says a student I don’t know as she leaves.
I shrug.
“I guess there won’t be breakfast today.”
I turn around and walk away, but Snow grabs my arm.
“Hey. No.”
I sneer.
“Don’t pull that face. You can eat whatever little you want, but you can’t leave me without my breakfast.”
“What?”
At this point we have caught the attention of the whole dining hall.
“Snow…”
“Don’t Snow at me now. Let’s kiss.”
My mind goes blank. My ears are buzzing.
“Let’s what?”
“Let’s kiss.”
“Snow, I don’t think you’re fully aware of the absurdity of your words.”
“I’m not leaving without my breakfast. It’s the last day before Christmas holiday, and they probably have nougat and hot choco…”
I kiss him. Just for him to shut up. Just so he stops complaining and my head stays still. Just so I can get over this and have him realize what a terrible idea it is. I kiss him hard and rough and unnecessarily long as my braincells become fireworks and I hear some people’s applause and cheer, but I don’t really register that. I’m too busy boiling with regret already.
Then I go into the Dining Hall, fill a plate with enough food to feed Snow for a week and find an empty table as far away from everyone as possible, facing the wall. Since I just dug my own tomb, I might as well enjoy some food.
SIMON
Baz has gone the whole day without talking to me. Which is the usual, I guess. But we normally have some sort of interaction, even if it’s just a short nod as we cross paths between classes. I didn’t see him the whole day, not even at the Dining Hall. And usually he’s there at lunch, at the very least. I think he’s avoiding me and I’m starting to feel bad for making him kiss me. He was making it so clear that he was uncomfortable with that. Maybe I could have sneaked in through the kitchen or something, and the curse wouldn’t have applied. I would have saved Baz the embarrassment of going through that kiss in front of everyone.
When dinner is over and I head upstairs, I find Baz laying on his bed, reading through a textbook. He doesn’t even look at me.
After I have finished my homework and showered, I sit on my bed. Baz is still reading that book; he hasn’t acknowledged my presence. He has not moved except for flipping the page from time to time.
“Baz, I’m sorry,” I try.
“Well, you should be.”
He still doesn’t look at me. His voice lacks emotion.
“I shouldn’t have made you go through that in front of everyone.”
He scoffs.
“So, would it have been okay if we had been alone?”
“That’s not…”
“Kiss your roommate in exchange for breakfast, but only when you’re alone with no one to be seen. No homo bro.”
“I…” But he’s not over.
“If it were Agatha, would it have been better? You used to kiss a lot in public spaces. Even at the stands, right in front of everyone as I…”
I get up.
“Will you stop twisting every word I say!?”
He turns his head and looks at me. Finally.
“I’m sorry that I made you kiss someone you hate so much in front of everyone just on a whim because of some stupid spell. I sincerely hope it doesn’t bring problems with your family. I should have checked if there was any other way to surround the spell. That’s what I had to say.”
He stares at me, his face blank. I wait for the rude remark.
“It’s okay,” he says, and returns to his book.
“It’s not. Please look at me.”
He hisses and drops the book on his chest, still open.
“Make it quick.”
“I would never not kiss you because you’re a boy. I don’t care about that. It didn’t even pass through my head that you wouldn’t want to or… I don’t know. That was just not the thing. And Agatha and I are over, so it’s not like that has anything to do with this. I just… It just didn’t feel like such a big deal.”
“And did it feel like a big deal right after?”
His expression has changed, but I don’t know which emotion it conveys.
“No. Yes. No. Well, it did when I kind of liked the kiss. And when you disappeared for the whole day. And… It does feel like a big deal right now. I feel like you’re helping me make it a big deal.”
“Snow, you don’t make sense.”
“Let’s kiss again” I say.
“What?”
“Let’s do it again, that’s what I said.”
“Why would you…?”
“If you don’t want to, forget that I said anything. Good night.”
BAZ
Simon crawls into his bed, his back is facing me.
I take the book and leave it at the nightstand. I surround his bed and kneel in front of his face.
“Do you mean it?”
He nods and looks at me. His eyes are blue, wide, soft, beautiful. Honest.
Why not. He will regret it tomorrow and I will find a way to justify myself. Probably by blaming Snow of everything. I lean in and press my lips against his.
“Why did you do that?” He asks.
“I might tell you tomorrow.”
I sit down on his bed.
“Baz. Your skin is so cold.”
“My skin is always cold.”
“Come here.”
He opens the quilt.
I don’t answer. I don’t ask. I don’t allow myself a single thought. I lay down next to Simon and let him hug me, rubbing my arms in an attempt to make me warmer.
“Thank you,” I say.
“It’s okay. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”
“Why?”
“It seems that if I don’t do it, no one else will.”
How does he know?
“Good night, Simon.”
“Good night, Baz.”