Work Text:
Baz
I’m standing wearily in front of the door to Snow and Bunce’s flat. I’ve knocked five times already, and no one has answered. I must have sent Snow ten texts already. I’ve searched through every pocket in my pants and jacket, and I can’t find the key. Snow has lost his so many times, he must have stolen mine.
I glance quickly around the hallway, then slide my wand out of my boot. Simon has told me multiple times not to use magick outside the flat, but with the awful day I’ve had, I can’t be troubled to wait around for someone to answer. I point my wand at the door.
“So many locks, not enough keys.” Yes, I’ve read a Sarah Dessen novel. For spell research only.
When the lock clicks, I slide my wand back into my boot and step inside. Neither Snow nor Bunce is in the living room, and the flat is silent.
“Snow?” I call out. No response. I walk towards the kitchen.
“Simon?” When I step into the kitchen, I stop. Sitting on the table is the most stunning display of wildflowers I’ve ever seen, placed neatly into a rounded vase. I walk over to it and examine each flower intently, wondering which shop Bunce had gotten these from.
My step-mother once spent an entire summer holiday planning a large magician’s gala and proceeded to drag me to every flower shop across London to find the perfect arrangements. Needless to say, she decided to cut the flowers entirely when she wasn’t impressed, but I learned a great deal. But nothing I saw could compare to this beautiful arrangement. It’s simple and delicate, like each flower placed had its own purpose.
There was a soft click of a door opening, and I turn around to see Snow stepping out of his bedroom. I glance him over. He’s just wearing trackies, and his hair his damp, and he has a towel hanging around his neck. He looks amazing, especially after the long day I’ve had. I then glance him over again. Because seeing him like this makes me weak.
He looks around the living room then walks forwards a few steps before he notices me. He’s briefly surprised to see me, but relaxes and smiles.
“Sorry, Baz,” he says, walking towards me. “I just saw your texts. I was in the shower.” His eyes then shift over to my hand that’s touching one of the flowers. “Ah, um… I got those for you.”
I raise an eyebrow at him, look at the flowers, then look back at him.
“You got these,” I say, then look back at the bouquet and back at him again. “For me?”
Snow smiles nervously. “Ah. Um, yeah. You texted me earlier, saying that you were having a bad day, and I saw those. I, uh. I actually don’t know if you like flowers, but um…” He trails off and starts raking his hand through his hair.
“Where did you buy them?” I ask. I’m quite curious, and I think about sending a picture of them to my step-mother.
“Oh.” He’s still raking his fingers through his hair, and it’s now a damp mess. “I picked them.”
I raise both of my eyebrows at him this time. “You… You picked these?”
“Uh, yeah? I got them from that small meadow a few blocks from here. Look, is there something wrong with them? I can get rid of them—”
“No, Snow,” I say, too quickly, touching his shoulder. “No. They’re- they’re perfect. But…”
“But?” He raises his eyebrow nervously.
I look at him, and I know my face is giving away my shock. But this is the most amazing arrangement of flowers I’ve ever seen, and Snow just casually picked them. My boyfriend just casually picked them , my mind adds.
“You… You just picked these?” I repeat. Because I still can’t believe it. “They’re just...”
He grins at me, and I grin back. Then I reach my fingers up and flatten out some of his messy curls.
“They’re lovely,” I say. “Thank you.”
He smiles this time, then leans up and kisses me.
“You’re welcome.”