Work Text:
Simon…
he’s still perfect,
even without the magic.
Unruly curls,
clear blue eyes,
smattering of freckles.
Great leathery wings now,
as if he needed to be more
intimidating.
I may be taller,
but he always
seems to tower
over me.
And he can still
stop me in my tracks
with just a smile,
though the smiles
come less
and less
these days.
He keeps saying
he’s not the Chosen One,
that it was all a mistake,
that he’s a Normal,
that the Mage just used him…
and so on,
all in endless
circles.
But Simon Snow
will always be
the Chosen One.
My Chosen One.
Because,
regardless of any prophecy,
I chose him.
Or maybe I’m
chosen
after all.
Because–
even better–
he
chose
me.