The world goes up in flames anyway when Baz gives me a curt nod and turns away from me, going back to his homework.
I suppose I should be glad it took me so long to realise my true feelings, because this—whatever this is—isn’t something I can deal with: if I’m already burning, I guess it doesn’t matter too much if I tread to my death.
(Crowley, why the fuck do I sound like Baz?)
“I can’t be friends with you, Baz,” I say again.
“I heard you, Snow. It’s the first wise decision you’ve ever made in your life.”
At least I survived this long.
“I can’t be friends with you, because I want to be so much more than that.”
I have nothing to lose, now—except maybe my head, but I’ve already lost my mind, so I suppose that doesn’t matter too much—, so when his head snaps back to my face, I do it.
I kiss him.
(And he kisses me back, and I think I finally understand why Baz is obsessed with fire.)