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Baz hadn't wanted to go, he knew it was a bad idea, to leave Simon behind. He also knew that he had to go, and that Snow couldn't come with. It was some sort of family emergency, something to do with Mordelia and Daphne. Snow had to stay behind to study for his midterms, and Baz knew this, but he still worried. Simon was still raw from what happened with the Mage and Ebb in the White Chapel. He sincerely hoped that he would be proven wrong, and that Simon would be perfectly okay.
Simon was alone. Really alone. For the first time since Christmas. He felt more than alone. He felt as if he was sitting in the center of a black hole, a void sucking out all the life from around him. No sound, no warmth, no feeling. He felt lost, like he had lost himself, but how had that happened? When had Baz left? Simon couldn't remember. When was the last time Simon spoke? Before Baz had left, yesterday? Maybe three days ago?
He wasn't sure where he was, he was mostly certain that he was in the flat; he couldn't open his eyes, he felt frozen in place. He was shivering, huddled on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest. Distantly, he could hear a shrill ringing, feel a faint buzzing. What time was it? Everything around him was dark. He managed to crack his eyes open.
He glanced down at his phone. It was lighting up with missed texts and calls from Baz.
22:17: Simon?
23:06: I haven't heard from you, Si. Are you alright?
23:31: Simon, I'm getting worried.
23:47: Missed call
00:01: Please pick up, love.
He squeezed his eyes shut, a tear escaping. Why couldn't he breathe? He couldn't get enough oxygen into his lungs. He startled when he heard his phone buzzing. Baz was calling him. He fumbled with the buttons, finally picking up.
"B-baz? H-hello?"
"Simon, thank God! You had me worried sick!" Simon felt awful. He hadn't meant to make Baz worry. "Snow?" He gasped for air, coughing and, before long, wheezing. "Simon?" Baz's voice was growing increasingly worried, "Love, please speak to me."
"Baz. Baz. Baz," Simon coughed. "Baz, I'm fine, perfectly okay. You really needn't worry," Simon lied through his teeth. Baz knew him. Baz knew when his boyfriend was lying. He sighed into the phone.
"Simon? Si, please tell me what's going on."
Simon cracked. "I-I don't kn-know. I just-it's been hard and I just-I don't want to be clingy or anything but I just, I don't know. I don't know, Baz," he cried, "all I know is that I can't fucking breathe. Basilton, I can't breathe and I need you and I can't move and I feel frozen and empty and, please, I just, I c-can't breathe." Spots were beginning to swim in Simon's vision. He couldn't do this.
"Hold on, love, just a bit longer."
"What-what do you mean?" Simon was confused, slumped forward, head between his knees. He was trying, really, he was. The phone clattered to the floor as he heard a key turn in a lock, followed by the sound of the door creaking open. He made himself as small as possible, scooting his cowered form back farther into the corner, if that was even possible. The footsteps neared, stockinged feet padding across the floor, closer and closer.
"Simon?" Relief flooded through him as a lamp flicked on and Baz gathered Simon up in his arms, sitting down on the floor as well. Then came the confusion.
"Why are you here?" Baz chuckled, "I-I mean, aren't you supposed to be in Oxford right now?"
"You're more important, of course you are, darling. I left as soon as I could." Simon fell silent, letting Baz hold him.
"Listen," Baz murmured, leaning Simon's head against his chest. Simon attempted to match his breathing to Baz's, like requested. He burrowed his face into Baz's neck, relishing in the familiar chill, strong with the scent of cedar and bergamot. "I was so worried," Baz whispered. Simon uttered apologies, and Baz reciprocated them. Simon was sorry for worrying Baz, and Baz was sorry that he had left Simon alone. Before long, all was forgiven. Slowly but surely, Simon's breaths slowed and evened out, his tense body relaxing and his wings folding back.
Baz waited a few more minutes before standing up, his boyfriend in his arms. He carried Simon to bed, tucking him in. He stripped down to his boxers, dressing himself in an old t-shirt of Simon's. It was a bit snug, but it was Simon, and Baz'd take all he could get of his golden boy. He climbed into bed with him, wrapping his arm around the other boy, carding his fingers through sun-kissed curls. Simon instinctually clung to Baz, their legs intertwining along with their fingers.
"Goodnight, love," Baz whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Simon's head before drifting off to sleep along with him.