Chapter Text
Baz
The kids are finally in bed, which means I can relax.
But, since I hate myself, instead of taking a book in one of the numerous bookshelves, or turning on the TV to empty my mind with reruns of Friends, I decide to text my boyfriend. Which would probably be an even better activity than reading or watching the TV, if my relationship was a little less… Special -dysfunctional. But it’s not, and texting Snow most likely means being ignored, which will inevitably cause me to feel like shit for the rest of the night.
At least my mood will fit the general atmosphere of the house…
I wonder if Daphne returns my father’s texts. I doubt it. The man wouldn’t look this desperate if he had a way to talk with his wife while she’s gone… I don’t even know where she’s gone, he hasn’t said. My father never says anything.
We’re a sad pair, the both of us. Hoping to reach a partner who clearly doesn’t want to be in contact with us.
...
Simon
Baz called me, since he arrived at Oxford. Multiple times. Texted me too. I’ve seen all of his texts, but I haven’t opened them yet, let alone replied to them. Obviously, I haven’t answered his calls either.
I’m not sure what he wants from me. He’s saying that his parents had a fight, and that he’s staying there to help his dad, but… How is that any of my business? He can stay with his family if he wants, it’s not like I’m going to stop him. It’s probably better for him to be with them than with me.
No.
No, I have to stop thinking like that.
Baz could have stayed in Las Vegas. With Lamb. He could have been with a bloke who took him on dates and made him laugh. He could have. I told him he should have.
But he didn’t. He left Las Vegas with me, came back to England with me. He stayed with me.
For some obscure reason, he wants to be with me.
He wants to be with me, he wants to be with me, he wants to be with me.
I repeat the words to myself, again, and again, and again, hoping to carve them inside my brain, so that maybe, maybe, I’ll believe them.
It just seems so… unlikely. He’s Baz Pitch. He’s perfect. And I’m…
A motherfucking trainwreck.
Conveniently, as if to pour salt in the wound, my phone vibrates. The screen lights up, and here on the notification, I can see his name.
And what he sent as well.
[Daphne still isn’t home. She hasn’t returned my texts.
There’s a lot of that going around…]
Every letter displayed on my screen becomes a rock that falls in my stomach.
Is he hurt that I’m not answering his texts?
Of course he is! Why wouldn’t he be! No one sends texts for them to go unanswered…
But I don’t know what to tell him…
Every reply I can think of is so empty, so useless.
I’m useless, sitting here on the couch when he’s struggling all the way in Oxford.
I’m always so useless. I haven’t been of any use to Baz since…
I don’t think I’ve ever been of any use to Baz. Or maybe I was, when I wasn’t so fucked up yet that I could still touch him and let him touch me whenever. Baz liked snogging. Baz liked everything we did.
I did too.
My phone vibrates a second time. Another message, still Baz.
[I’m staying another day, maybe two, I’m not sure. I still haven’t cornered my father.
I don’t know how to corner my father.
Anyway…
I can’t leave yet.]
He can’t leave yet, and that means he can’t come back to me either. Do I want him to come back?
Yes. Yes, I suppose I do.
I like being with Baz. I love being with Baz. Even if sometimes it feels so difficult that I can’t breathe.
I wish I was with Baz.
I bite my lip, hesitantly. Baz is in Oxford. Baz can’t leave. But I wish I was with Baz.
I like being with Baz. It’s okay to want to be with Baz.
I grab my phone, and finally open his texts, after leaving them seemingly unread for a day. Is Baz going to see that little ‘read’ at the bottom of his screen? Is he going to be glad about it, or is he going to be scared a ‘read’ is all he’s getting?
I won’t leave him on ‘read’. He doesn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve me ignoring his texts.
He doesn’t deserve any of the shit I give him.
…
Baz
I rub my eyes when I see the three little dots moving in a grey bubble at the bottom of my screen. Just to make sure I’m not hallucinating.
(No, I’m not being dramatic, thank you very much. This is actually grand.)
Has Snow decided to stop ignoring me?
A text bubble appears.
He replied!
[do you need help with the kids?]
Do I?
It is a little overwhelming, having to take care of four children. Technically, my father is here and he can look after them with me, but in reality, I haven’t seen him much since I arrived. Mostly, he’s been locking himself in his office, and in his bedroom at night. So my siblings have been my responsibility for about a day and a half now.
I quickly type an answer. I can’t risk Snow getting annoyed because I didn’t answer right away and ignoring me again. I want to talk to him. Any way I can. If it’s small talk about babysitting my siblings over text messages, so be it. I’d gladly tell him everything down to the tiniest details if it means I have his attention.
…
Simon❤️
Today, 9:47 PM
Help would be welcome if I could get any, but I’m not desperate enough to try and contact my grandparents to beg them to take care of their son’s devil spawn.
devil spawn? wow what have the little ones done to deserve that
Existed as children?
No, more seriously, it has been fine. They’re good kids. Mostly. It gets difficult, at times, when they all seem to need me at the same time, but other than that, I’m managing.
do you think you could manage better if there was someone there to help you?
Obviously I would, I just told you that. What’s your point?
…
Simon
Circe, this is difficult. He is difficult.
Why can’t he just understand what I’m trying to tell him! He’s all clever, shouldn’t that intelligence be good for something?
Why do I have to spell it out for him!
It’s scary to do so.
Because if I ask whether he wants me to come or not, he can say no. He can’t say no if he’s the one suggesting it.
Why can’t he be the one suggesting it!
Maybe because he doesn’t want me to come. I mean, while he’s at his parents’ place, he’s getting a break from me. From having to deal with me. He has actual children to look after now, not just a grown adult who doesn’t fucking know how to be one.
I shouldn’t go.
I should let him have his break. He deserves that, too.
I text him back, before turning off my phone.
…
Baz
I can’t help the way my shoulders drop when I read his reply.
[nothing. good night]
That’s not what I was expecting.
I thought that maybe…
But that was a foolish thought anyway, I shouldn’t have let myself entertain it. He has better things to do than to come to Oxford with me…
Like feeling sorry for himself on the couch of his flat, drinking cider.
No, I’m being cruel. I shouldn’t think like that. The state he’s in… It’s not his fault. He’s gone through so much. I can’t blame him for not being well.
I answer his cold ‘ good night’ with an equally cold ‘ Good night, Snow ’, because I don’t know what else to say to him.
I never know what to say to him.
He doesn’t even read it.
…
Simon
I can’t sleep that night. I’m thinking about Baz. About seeing Baz.
I want to. Need to.
When he was at my flat every day, I was sick of him, of the worry in his eyes and the careful way he acted around me.
But now he isn’t here and I miss him like a limb. Like an organ. I miss him like a part of my lungs has been ripped out of my chest when he went away.
I miss him so much I can’t breathe.
Can’t breathe, can’t sleep, can’t move, can’t even cry, and Merlin knows I’ve been doing that a lot.
I can’t do anything except think of him.
Think of all the ways I’ve ruined our relationship. Of all the reasons I’ve given him to break up with me.
Of the fact that he stayed the whole time.
Think of how much I love him.
It hit me like a motherfucking train, when I first realized it, but I do. Love him. I’ve never loved anyone like that, not even Agatha. I don’t think I ever could love someone else like that.
I wish I could tell him. I love you. When I think about it, it doesn’t seem too hard.
But when I’m with him, it is.
It’s so incredibly hard, to let myself love him. It’s even harder to let him love me.
When I’m with him, I’m paralized. When I’m with him, I’m scared.
Useless. I’m useless when I’m with him.
And I’m useless when he’s not here too. But for different reasons. In different ways.
I want to see him.
I should go help him with the children. If he doesn’t want to be with me… I could always go to another room. He’d still have his peace, but I’d also take some weight off his shoulders.
And at least I’ll see him, even if it’s just for a few minutes.
Yes. That’s the best solution.
I roll over, blindly reaching for my phone on the nightstand. I knock an empty can of cider over, but that’s not a big deal. It’s just one. There used to be much more of those around me.
I’m trying not to let myself go as much as I have, in the past few months, since America. I’m trying to be better. To be the kind of man Baz deserves.
(Someone who takes him on dates and makes him laugh.)
When I still saw her, my therapist said maybe I should try healing for me and not for someone else. And like. I see her point, and she’s the one who’s a mental health professional, so I suppose she’s right but… Can’t this be enough? Would it be so bad, if I started getting better because I’m doing it for Baz, as long as I am getting better?
It’s hard to want to make an effort only for myself. But when I see the sad way he looks at me, when I’ve been lying on the couch with my thoughts and my cider for one more day, it’s not as hard.
I want Baz to be happy. I want his life to be as good as possible. That can’t happen as long as he has a mess like me for a boyfriend.
So yeah. I have to try.
The brightness of my phone screen burns my eyes. I wince as they feel with water, and adjust it until I can see my screen properly and without hurting. Then, I open an internet browser, and look for the first train to Oxford. There’s one leaving in fourty minutes, but I doubt I’ll be able to make it to the train station in time. Paddington is a little far away from here, and I’m not really good at navigating the Tube, since I don’t go out much.
The problem is that this train is the last one that leaves tonight. After that, there’s no train before… 5 a.m.
That’s in six hours. Six hours is a long time.
I go look for buses, then. Maybe there are more of those during the night than there are trains.
I find one that leaves London at 1:25. That gives me more time to get to the station. The problem is that it makes me get to Oxford at 3 in the morning, and I doubt either Baz or his dad will be very happy if someone knocks on their door that late -or that early?
Maybe I should wait for the 5 a.m. train, then. I’ll get to Oxford around 6. Then I'll have to find a cab to drive me to Baz’s parents’ house. That will make me arrive at a more decent hour.
Yes, that’s a better option.
I book my ticket before giving it more thought. If I start thinking about it, I’ll start overthinking it, and I won’t go. Now that I’ve paid for the ticket, I can’t go back. I don’t like wasting money.
Even if it’s the Mage’s money.
It’s a little funny, that the first thing I did with the fortune I inherited from him is to buy a train ticket to go see Baz Pitch, my boyfriend… The man must be rolling in his grave.
Good.
…
I take a screenshot of my ticket, and make sure to keep the page open for now -I’m probably going to print the ticket, I’ve got time, but I’ll do that later- before I close the app, to check my texts instead. I noticed when I turned on my phone that Baz had sent me something, but I didn’t read his message.
I wouldn’t have missed much even if I had waited for later to read it. He only told me good night back.
I’m not disappointed. I’m not. I’m the one who shut the conversation down. I can’t be sad that he didn’t try to continue talking.
Besides, it’s my fault too. If he didn’t push. Over the past few months, he’s learnt that if he didn’t want to be met with coldness or anger, he should simply agree with me. Leave me alone when I want to be left alone.
But I didn’t want to be left alone. I just didn’t want him to reject me. But he can’t know that. Because I don’t fucking know how to tell him things.
I swallow thickly, starting to feel a lump form in my throat. I won’t cry. I’ve cried enough. And I hate crying out of frustration. It makes me even more frustrated.
My thumbs hover over my keyboard, though I am careful not to touch any of the keys. I don’t see why he would be, but just in case Baz was looking at our messages too, I don’t want him to think I’m typing.
I don’t think I’ll type anything.
I want to send him a text. But. I also don’t. And it’s late. And he’s looking after his siblings. He should sleep. Not chat with me. God knows he needs the rest.
He’ll be able to rest a bit more when I’m helping him. Maybe the dark rings under his eyes won’t continue digging in his pale skin. Maybe they won’t keep getting darker and darker.
I don’t remember the last time I looked at Baz without seeing tiredness written on his face.
He’s always exhausted.
Because of uni.
Because of me.
The holidays should have been his chance to rest, but… well, destiny had other plans.
Fucking destiny.
I worry my bottom lip. My thumbs are so incredibly close to the screen.
I shake my head.
I won’t text him.
…
But he texts me.
I’m watching some show on Netflix, to do something instead of staying up with heavy eyelids that won’t quite close, listening to the sounds of the streets through the thin glass of my bedroom window, when a noise, much louder than the cars and the characters on my screen, rises in the room. It comes from my speakers, accompanied with a notification box at the top of my screen.
I click on it immediately, my conversation with Baz opening.
I notice that he’s still typing before I even read the content of the first message he sent me.
...
Baz
Today, 2:09 AM
I’m never having children.
Petra is sick, she threw up all over the bottom of her nightdress. And the floor. If I had to clean that by hand, I swear I would have taken the first train back to London and left my father to deal with his kids. Thank magic for… magic.
…
I stare at my screen for a moment, while the little bubble at the bottom of it tells me Baz is still typing.
I don’t know why, but his first text stung.
No, I know why.
He said I.
I’m never having children. Not we. We’ve been together for a while now, and he doesn’t seem to want to leave me yet… Shouldn’t that be a ‘we’ situation? Who else is he planning on having children with?
Probably a man he can hold in his arms without getting pushed away. A man he can talk to without risking being unfairly snapped at. A man he can bring home to his parents without starting a war. A man who can be intimate with him without freaking out. A man who can get out of bed every day.
A man who has his fucking life together. Someone it would actually be a good thing to have children with, and not a disaster waiting to happen.
Anyone but me, really.
I shake my head, trying to send that train of thought to the back of my brain.
It’s just a stupid comment Baz made because of an unfortunate situation he faced while looking after the kids. It doesn’t mean.
It. Doesn’t.
If he didn’t love me enough to think his future was going to be with me, he would have dumped me already. He wouldn’t bother carrying such a burden if it was only to leave me in a few years.
He’s not going to abandon me, he’s not going to abandon me, he’s not going to abandon me.
I force myself to bring my eyes back on my screen. I heard three more notifications while I was thinking.
...
Baz
Today, 2:11 AM
You can ignore these messages when you see them, I’m not expecting an answer.
I just need to complain and I feel less insane typing a text than mumbling to myself.
I know you don’t care about my sick little sister keeping me up at two in the morning to clean her vomit.
…
I do care, I want to say.
I care about everything you’re willing to tell me. I could listen to you all day, I promise. Except on my bad days. On my bad days I don’t want to hear anything from anyone.
But he knows that, of course.
He’s more accustomed to my bad days than to good days, now.
I hesitate, trying to find something right to answer. Something that isn’t as scary as what I actually want to type.
I can’t come up with anything. Any answer would lead him to ask me why I’m still up, and I can’t tell him why.
Again. Too vulnerable. Too scary.
So.
Again. I don’t send him anything.
He said I could ignore his messages anyway…
…
He continues texting me.
And I continue reading his messages.
Without answering.
I simply look at the notifications as I get them, careful not to click on them.
Until I fuck up and open the conversation trying to keep the notification box at the top of my screen down long enough to read it.
...
Baz
Today, 2:24 AM
It’s the middle of the night, and I’m currently watching the Little Mermaid while having a little girl with a bellyache cuddled up to me. Life is wonderful.
I don’t want to cast too many spells on her, since that’s not something Daphne does, but I’m really tempted to. I don’t like to see her hurting like that, and to be honest, I’d really like to go back to sleep.
Petra is throwing up again. I don’t know what to do.
I was trying to make her drink some water so that she wouldn’t dehydrate, but it only made her sick.
I think I’m going to have to take her to a doctor tomorrow, but I don’t know if my father can manage the three other kids alone. Especially Swithin, but I really don’t see myself driving up to the Wellbeloves’ with a sick child and a toddler.
I suppose I could go to a Normal doctor for something like this but I don’t know any, and I doubt I could get an appointment quickly anyway…
This is going to be complicated.
I’d be selfish and say I’ll let my father take care of Petra but… I’m here to help him, so help I must.
At least I’ve gotten Petra to go to bed now, but she asked me to stay with her with her eyes all pitying and wet, so I couldn’t resist.
Here I am, in a bed too small for my legs to fit in it, texting you with one hand and rubbing my sister’s stomach with the other. That part is nice. The belly rubs. I can tell that soothes her.
I like the texting you part too, by the way.
Snow I saw that.
You’ve opened my texts.
What are you doing up at this impossible hour?
…
Crap. His text was just so long, I wanted to read it all… But I didn’t mean to open the conversation and now I’m fucked.
I have no choice but to answer something. I’d hurt his feelings if I ignored him when he asked me a direct question, wouldn’t I?
What am I supposed to say…
...
Baz
Today, 3:12 AM
woke up, saw ur texts
Oh, alright. Are you going back to bed, then? You should.
Get the sleep I’m being deprived of.
i’m probably going back to bed yeah
but u should sleep too
I can’t. Not with Petra like that.
ur worried
Yes.
u always worry too much
Snow I am begging you to write the words you/you’re/your fully.
grammar freak
So what if I am?
nothing. it’s cute
…
You’re cute.
…
Baz
I’m enjoying this way too much. Snow being in a good mood. Or at least, in a seemingly good mood. Talking to me. Teasing me. Those moments have become rarer and rarer as time went by, and for that reason, I cherish them.
Though I already cherished them even when things were alright between us…
Light, cheerful moments with him have always been dear to me.
But, it’s three a.m., and there are better things he could be doing right now.
...
Simon❤️
Today, 3:14 AM
You really should go to bed, Snow
if u don’t want to talk to me just say that
No, that’s not it. Of course I want to talk to you. But it’s the middle of the night, and I’d rather you got some rest than you stayed up on the phone with me. We could chat at a more decent hour, if you’re still in the mood.
…
I hope he will be. I hope I haven’t ruined this whole thing for myself.
Next to me, I feel Petra shift. She turns on her side, her little body pressed to my chest.
It’s harder to rub her stomach that way, so I move my hand to her back, all while continuing to stroke her over her -new- nightdress. Even if my spell made her old one perfectly clean, it felt wrong leaving her in a piece of clothing she had thrown up on. I put it in the washing machine. Better to clean it twice than not at all.
She lets out a cute groan in her sleep, and my heart swells.
Children aren’t so bad.
...
Simon❤️
Today, 3:16 AM
what if i wanna talk to u now tho
You’re stubborn
so are u
Yes, but I want what’s good for you so I can’t be blamed
u sure can. i could sleep later. now i wanna talk
What about?
anything
the kids, your school, your snotty old books… America. whatever you want
Why would I want to talk about America? I don’t even want to HEAR about this country ever again.
really? don’t you want to go back
Merlin, no.
not even to las vegas?
ESPECIALLY not to Las Vegas, Snow. That’s literally the last place on earth where I want to be.
but lamb is there
Yes, exactly. Lamb is there. That’s the whole reason I don’t want to go anywhere near that city ever again.
but u liked being with him
I enjoyed the one evening I spent with him, that’s true. I also enjoy a lot of the time I spend with Bunce, but I wouldn’t cross an ocean to see her if she didn’t live with my boyfriend.
penny isn’t hot tho
That’s extremely rude to Bunce, and I am immediately going to screenshot this and send it to her.
not what i mean
I know what you mean. But I don’t care about Lamb. Especially not in that way
why not? he’s attractive and he was clearly into you
…
I was wondering how long it would take him to bring Lamb up again. I knew that it was bound to happen, my evening with Lamb has clearly been bothering him, and he’s always been jealous.
Back when things were still wonderfully perfect, he’d get so possessive, sometimes, when someone’s eyes lingered on me a little too long. I teased him for it, but I secretly loved it.
Right now, I’m not loving it, though. Not at all.
…
Simon❤️
Today, 3:21 AM
So what? I should fuck every person who thinks I’m attractive? What kind of person do you think I am?
i didn’t mean it like that…
How did you mean it, then? Because all I’m seeing is that you think I’m going to leave the man I’ve been dating for over a year and a half for a man I knew for a few days and who stabbed me in the back, and excuse me but that’s not pleasant.
i just think you might be better off with someone like him
I wouldn’t.
you can’t know that. you haven’t given him a chance
Because I don’t want to, Simon. You’re the only one I want to give a chance to.
but why. i’m nothing special
You’re extraordinary.
…
And I love you.
…
Simon❤️
Today, 3:25 AM
i’m a freak, for sure
That is absolutely not what I mean. And I’m the freak in this relationship.
i have fucking wings and a tail baz
And I’m a vampire! I don’t care about the wings and tail. They’re just one more part of you. They don’t change how I feel about you, in any way.
HOW do you feel about me
i’m just a burden to you
…
Simon
I didn’t want our chat to take this turn.
But I couldn’t help it. I can never help it. It’s always, always, always like this. Things are sort of okay between us, and then I think bad thoughts, and everything goes downhill because I’m incapable of not fucking up everything all the time.
I don’t want to fight with Baz. I never do.
But I’m always the one who starts our fights.
I hate it, but I can’t stop doing it.
I never want him to abandon me.
He’d be so much happier if he stayed away from me.
It breaks my heart when we argue.
I make him cross with me on purpose instead of shutting up.
…
Baz
Today, 3:26 AM
I don’t want to have this conversation right now. It’s too late, and you’re too far away. Let’s just sleep on it.
i can’t sleep
I don’t care.
see, i piss you off
i make you mad, even when i’m not with you
Stop that. Don’t use my irritation to fit your stupid fucking narrative. I’m not mad at YOU, I’m mad that you’re miles away and I can’t have a serious talk with you right now, face to face, to get those delirious ideas out of your thick head.
but it’s still my fault you’re mad
Snow. Simon. Seriously. Stop this.
i’m just stating facts. you’re mad because of me. you’re always feeling bad things because of me.
That’s absolutely not true.
you’re worried all the time
That’s just who I am as a person. If I didn’t worry about you, believe me I’d find a million other things to worry about.
you’d still have one less thing to worry about if you didn’t have to bother with me
I WANT to bother with you. You’re so sure you’re a problem, well I want you to be my fucking problem, Simon Snow.
I wish you would understand this.
I want to be with you. No matter what. I want the good things and the bad things.
there aren’t good things.
Having you in my life is a fucking blessing. It makes me so happy, that overshadows all the bad things.
you can’t possibly care about me that much
…
Baz
I love you so much I might choke on it.
…
Simon❤️
Today, 3:33 AM
Looks like I do, though.
I care about you. So I want to be with you. It’s that simple. You’re not a burden, and I don’t wish to break up with you to be with someone ‘better’. There’s not someone ‘better’. Not for me, anyway. And this is all I will say right now because again, this is not a conversation I want to be having over the phone. Now, if you want to keep talking with me, I’m okay with that, as long as you change the topic, but I would rather you went to bed and got some rest.
ok
good night then
Good night.
…
Simon
Great fucking job, Simon.
He’s going to hate seeing you when you get to Oxford.
You ruined everything.
Again.
…
No. Fuck that. I’m not letting myself mess things up, not this time.
I don’t want Baz to be angry with me when we see each other. I want him to open that damn door and be glad that I’m standing behind it, not apprehensive or annoyed.
I don’t want the first things we tell each other to be uncomfortable, tense words, I don’t want to have a serious talk. I want to go to Oxford to relieve him of a burden, not dump more weight on his shoulders.
Too much weight is going to break him, some day.
I can’t have that.
So this time…
I text him.
…
Baz
Today, 3:47 AM
baz
i don’t know if you’re still up, but if you are, and if you’re reading this, please don’t answer now
there are things i want to tell you and it’s hard and i don’t know how to say them but i want to try saying them anyways
well
writing them
it’s easier to write
so please let me write
i’ll tell you when you can answer
i see you’re reading. is that okay? (you can answer)
Yes. Take your time. I won’t interrupt you.
thanks
…
Thank God, because I wouldn’t be able to go on if he did.
My fingers fly over the keys hesitantly, as my gaze stays on my screen.
I don’t write anything. It’s almost 4, I need to leave or I’ll miss my train.
I haven’t printed my ticket. It’s okay. I have it on my phone.
Still, I can’t text Baz right this second. I have to pack a few clothes. Then find directions to the train stations. And then travel there. I could write to Baz on the way, but not while I’m getting better.
I tell him that. That I’m going to need a moment.
I pretend it’s to collect my thoughts.
He understands -he always does. He says he’ll wait all night if that’s what I need.
I just need a few minutes, though.
I jump out of bed, heading straight to my wardrobe. There, I take my old school back, in which I throw a handful of pants, the first shirts I lay my hands on and two pairs of jeans -it’s a small bag, I can’t do much better. I’ll borrow Baz’s socks if I need to.
I sling my bag over my shoulder, and leave the room. I’m careful as I cross the flat, so as not to wake Penny -I don’t have time to answer questions-, grab my keys, which I immediately put in the pocket of my trackies, put on my trainers, and, finally, walk out.
I’m opening Google Maps be shown where the train station is, and then I check which underground lines I must take to get there as easily and quickly as possible…
And I realize that there are none.
Apparently, the Tube starts running at 5.
Crap.
I hope I can get a cab… I hate those -that one time a Goblin was my taxi driver kind of made me dislike the whole idea of using that specific mean of transportation, you see... - but I don’t have another choice. I would never get my train in time if I walked to the station.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Why do I never think things through?
…
My taxi driver is not a Goblin. Only a man who makes me pay an insane amount of money to take me where I want to be.
(That’s also why I hate cabs. They’re so expensive.)
But, at least, I’ve got my ride to the train station, and I can now text Baz…
For better or for worse.
Let’s try to get some of those feelings out.
…
Baz
Today, 4:20 AM
(sorry for the delay)
No problem.
stop answering now please
okay so
i’m sorry baz
i really am
i don’t really understand why you want to be with me, but i know that you do. i know you’re not gonna go back to lamb. or leave me for any other guy. i know it
i’m happy about it
i’m thankful for you, really, i’m sorry i don’t show it enough, i’m sorry i’m such an arsehole all the time
i want to be good to you, baz, i really do
i just
i don’t fucking know how to be anymore
i don’t know anything anymore
i’m so fucking lost
nothing ever makes sense
except you. us. having you in my life
that makes sense
i don’t think i’m the right person for you, i don’t think i deserve you, but i know that you’re that person for me
you’re so important to me, baz
the thought of losing you… it drives me crazy
but at the same time, i can’t help but think that i shouldn’t be selfish and that i should let you be with someone else, who would actually be worthy of you, but you don’t want that, and even if it’s the last thing i want, sometimes i feel like i need to make you want that, for your own good
but maybe instead of pushing you away i should try to become that someone who is worthy of you, but i genuinely don’t know if i can do that
i want to, god, i want to so much
but i don’t know how to become that person, and i don’t know if i will be able to pull myself back together enough to even be A person
i don’t feel like a person most of the time
i don’t feel like anything
like i have no purpose, no reason to be here
i don’t know who i’m supposed to be if i’m not the Chosen One
it’s the only thing i was ever good for and i lost that
and you know sometimes i wonder if it it’s already too late to pull myself back together
if i’ve let myself go for too long
if there’s no more fixing me
i want to get better, baz, but i don’t know if it’s bloody possible
and… yeah, i guess that’s all i wanted to say. you can answer now.
…
He practically starts typing before I give him permission to.
Wow. I thought he’d actually take a moment to take everything I sent him in.
I thought he’d give me a moment to bury my head in the sand.
But my eyes have spotted the three little moving dots at the bottom of my screen, so my brain won’t let me lock my phone until I have read Baz’s answer.
I continue staring at the dots, second after second, feeling my anxiety rising as much as the bile in my throat.
This was a mistake. He didn’t need to know any of this. It doesn’t even make sense, the way I feel, he can’t possibly care about it…
My breathing hitches when I see a message bubble pop up.
…
Baz
Today, 4:27 AM
First of all, I’d like to say this: you are worthy, Simon Snow. You are so worthy. Of me, and of every good thing in the world. You’re going through tough times, but that doesn’t take any of your worth away from you. And that worth was never defined by your status as Chosen One, by the way. You’re worthy because you’re you. Because you’re kind, and selfless, and absolutely wonderful.
I understand that you may feel like you’ve lost your purpose, now that you’re not the Chosen One anymore, but you can find another purpose. It doesn’t have to be something as big as saving the world. It can be anything as long as it makes you want to get out of bed every day and go on with your life.
But it’s also okay that right now, it’s difficult to get out of bed every day. You might not believe me, you seem to think I’m so perfect, but I understand that. How that feels. I’m going to be honest with you… I don’t know whether you noticed or not, but last year, there were times when I wouldn’t come to your flat for a few days. That’s because I couldn’t even leave Fiona’s. I skipped uni, and spent whole days curled up under my blankets, trying to convince myself not to do something stupid. Bunce worried about it. I blamed it on burn out. Anyway. My point is. You’re not alone in this. I get it, Simon. I know it’s hard. But you’ll get through this, alright? I know you will. Enough to get your head out of the water, at least.
I don’t think you’ll be able to do it all on your, own though. Not with my and Bunce’s help either.
Maybe you should email your therapist. I know you didn’t want to see her anymore, but I believe she could help you, if you gave her another chance.
Or if you gave another therapist a chance, it doesn’t really matter as long as you see someone.
Now, as for what you said about me. About us…
You are that person, for me too, Simon. You’re my person. I don’t imagine my future with anyone else but you, and I don’t want to. I’m sorry if this sounds presumptuous, but it’s the truth. I want to grow old with you. I have wanted you since I’ve been able to want anyone, and I don’t think I could ever want someone else. You might not see the reasons why, but I do. I have so many reasons why I care about you, if I listed them all, we’d still be there tomorrow. But I can give you some.
I care about you because even when I was constantly mean and cold to you, when we were little kids, you still tried to befriend me. You were patient and nice to me. You were good. You’re nothing but goodness. I care about you because you care about others. I care about you get that glint in your eyes when you’re excited about something, even the most mundane things, that’s worth more than all the riches in the world. I care about you because I feel safe with you. I always have. Even when I believed you were someday going to run me through with your sword, you were my safe harbour. You were what I could always go back to.
You were my home. You are.
…
Baz
And I love you.
It’s as simple as that, really. And it’s all I want to say.
But I’ll be damned if the first time I tell him I love him after cautiously holding the words back for years is at four a.m. and through a fucking text message.
…
Simon
I really thought that I had done it all. That I could never humiliate myself in public any more than that one time my tail -blessedly spelled invisible- got frisky under my trousers and made them fall to my ankles in the middle of Tesco.
But apparently I can, because each word that Baz wrote is one more tear springing to my eyes, rolling down my cheek, and now I’m sat at the back of a taxi, in the middle of the night, crying like a little kid.
I’m such a bloody mess.
My only relief in this situation is that at least, it’s not in the train station that I started crying. That would have been way too embarrassing. Here, my only witness is the driver, and he isn’t paying attention to me…
He does when I nearly jump out of my skin though, glancing at me in the mirror. He stares at me for a moment, looking so bored you’d believe he was paid for it, before looking away when he understands that there’s nothing wrong, and that he just has a very strange passenger.
A very strange passenger with a tail.
Thinking about the damn thing must have awakened it. I can feel the spade brushing along my ankle, like a dog’s tail wagging excitedly.
I try to control it. Considering I had the brilliant idea of leaving at four in the morning, I obviously could not go and ask Penny to spell it invisible. She would probably have thrown her ring in my face if I woke her up for a spell at such an hour -Penny’s not a morning person at all.
So it’s not invisible. It’s just hidden under my clothes, like my wings.
That’s the really uncomfortable part. The wings. They’re feeling too cramped, already, and I haven’t even gotten to the train station yet. They’ll be hurting like hell by the time I reach the Grimms’ house. Fucking brilliant.
And not only are they sore, they hurt too, because to be able to sit somewhat properly, I have to crush them, and the bones or whatever it is that is inside them dig in my back painfully.
It’s not easy to travel when you have fucking dragon parts.
I really wish my magic had left me with another kind of memento… One that wouldn’t be such an inconvenience all the time…
No, I’m being unfair. Having my magic brought me a lot of nice things. Like Penny’s friendship.
Or…
Baz.
Thinking of him makes me cry even harder, one of my hands shaking around the phone while I press the other to my mouth, to muffle any traitorous sound that might try to escape my lips.
All the things he wrote…
God, what have I done to deserve him? He’s so… So kind, so understanding.
So fucking sweet. A few years back, I’d have never thought I could think this of him, but he really is. He’s such an incredible boy, it makes me angry, sometimes, to think of all the time we wasted playing at hating each other. Especially when I remember the good moments Baz and I had, too, even at Watford, even when we were ‘enemies’.
That one time he came back to school after Christmas, in second year, with a bag full of chocolate and split with me, letting me taste even the posh kind of sweets his family had gotten him. Or that day, during the dragon pox outbreak in fourth year, when we were both bored out of our minds after being locked in Mummers for three days, and we played cards. I taught him poker, and he taught me how to bluff. Or all the nights when we were both too tired to fight, and we chatted lightly, just to hear something other than silence. Or the times when he would give me his extra blanket because I was feverish and shivering, even though I’m sure he needed it for himself more than I did. Or when he laughed at something I was saying, in spite of himself, and then blushed when he realized.
All those moments that could have been part of our routine, if we hadn’t listened to what the people we loved told us about the other.
All those moments that could be part of our routine now if I wasn’t so… If I tried a little harder.
(If I tried at all.)
It’s all Baz ever does. Trying. He tries, and he tries, and he tries. He tries to talk to me when I haven’t said a word the whole day. He tries to get me to move my sorry arse from the couch and get some fresh air and sunlight. He tries to hold my hand, or sit close to me, or kiss me hello and goodbye, even when he’s only met with rejection.
I know I should try too. I know we won’t get anywhere if I don’t.
I know it. And now… Now I think I want to do it.
Because Baz cares for me. Because Baz understands. Because Baz thinks I’m worthy of him. (I’m not.)
Because Baz deserves all the effort it’s going to take to fight my desire to run and hide, to push him away before it becomes too intense, too scary, before I’m too attached to him to bear it if he leaves.
(It already is. I already am.)
I sniff a little too loudly, and wipe my cheeks enough that they don’t feel drenched anymore, then I dry my hands on my trackies, and finally return my attention back to my phone. To Baz, who’s probably waiting for some kind of answer.
Or maybe not. Maybe he’s finally fallen asleep.
I doubt he has.
I sniff again. Christ, my nose is way too runny. I’m going to have to grab some paper towels to blow it with in the restroom of the train station.
If I have enough time to even go to the restroom… It’s getting close to five, and I’ve not arrived yet.
I hope I won’t miss my train.
My leg is bouncing as I type a reply to Baz’s beautiful texts.
…
Baz
Today, 4:38 AM
i’m not really sure what to tell you honestly
that was… a lot
thanks. i guess that’s what i should say
i’m really emotional right now, it’s hard to think, but it really means a lot. everything you said
and about therapy… i’ll think about it, okay? i can’t tell you i’ll start again, because i really hated how my sessions made me feel but… i’ll at least consider it. i know you’re right and i need it, but i’m a little scared
oh and i care for you too, by the way
like, a lot
thanks again, for everything
you’re great baz
i’m so glad i have you
❤️❤️
…
Baz
I’m so glad I have you. And two red hearts. That’s more affection than Simon had shown me in a while… Maybe this is easier like this, for him. Through text. Merlin knows feelings are hard for me too, especially expressing them, though I have been trying to be more vocal about how I feel about him. To show it to him, too.
I wonder if communicating through a phone is something I should have thought of before. He has told me so much tonight, good and bad. Simon Snow never tells me things, not anymore.
I’m very happy that he just did, though, even though some of the thoughts he shared with me have angered me. I’d rather be mad that he believes I’m going to leave him, than be frustrated that I don’t know what’s going on in his beautiful head at all. At least, I can reassure him if I know.
I’d reassure him every day, if that’s what he needed. I could never get tired of telling him that he’s the only man I want.
Running away to go to Lamb, honestly… What a delirious idea. Sure he had a nice face, and his company was enjoyable before he risked my friends’ lives, but what more could he offer me than a -potentially- good fuck? He’s a vampire. Proud about it too. That’s not the kind of person I’d be comfortable being around. It’s the same thing for any other men… I might have some fun with them, but I know in my heart I’ll never be as fulfilled with anyone else as I am with Simon. Even when he’s like that, when he stays alone with his thoughts, his couch, and his cider, I still feel blessed to have him in my life.
Besides, what kind of terrible boyfriend would I be if I didn’t support him through a difficult time? If I left because of that.
I could never.
Maybe, one day, he’ll understand it.
…
Simon❤️
Today, 4:44 AM
I’m glad I have you too, Simon❤️
omg i got u to send me an emoji
i didnt know u used emojis
…
A smile grows on my face. He can be so precious sometimes, getting excited about the little things… and it’s good to see that he is in a better mood now. His texts would be much drier, if he was still.
Maybe it’s because he’s too tired to have yet another argument.
Maybe it’s because he doesn’t feel want to argue.
I know I never do… if all my conversations with Snow were light and easy, I would undoubtedly be the happiest man on earth.
I adjust my position, for the millionth time tonight, my arm that is under Petra’s body is getting seriously sore, and I am going to need that arm in the morning. Swithin’s not a baby anymore, he can walk, but it’s just so much easier to carry him around in my arms, sometimes. At least I’m sure he’s not wandering the house putting his hands in sockets, or falling down the stairs, or eating things that really shouldn’t be put in his mouth.
Once I find a comfortable enough position, without even waking my sister, I start typing enthusiastically.
May Snow’s good mood last, this time.
…
Simon❤️
Today, 4:46 AM
I do? Sometimes. And it’s just a heart, not those silly looking ones.
Is that the most shocking thing about what I sent you? I thought if you were to comment on anything, it would be my using your first name.
that too
i like it when you call me simon
I know you do. That’s why I keep it for special occasions.
ur an annoying prick
You like it.
yeah, i guess i do :)
ur still annoying though 😒
That’s so incredibly mean of you. I’m deeply wounded.
crybaby
😢
ah! you used another one!!! i cannot believe tyrannus basilton grimm-pitch is using EMOJIS
You do realize I’m living in the same century as you do, and am the same age as you are, right? If you’re familiar with emojis, so am I.
um that’s what u say
ur a vampire for all i know ur centuries old
You’ve seen baby pictures of me.
maybe they were edited🤨
You’re an idiot.
Anyway, not to be a killjoy, but I think you should go to bed now, Snow. It’s really late.
you ARE being a killjoy😐
but okay, i’ll go to bed now mum lol
Not your mum.
mum :))))
You are the most irritating person I know.
mean😔
Snow. Go to bed.
yes mummy
I’ll kill you.
pls don’t😔
good night baz :) don’t come to murder me in my sleep please and thank you :)
It’s the third time you’ve told me good night tonight.
but it’s for good this time!
Okay. Good night then, Snow. For good, this time.
Text me when you wake up, maybe?
yeah, i will :)
…
Simon
I’m obviously not going to bed, but I’d rather make him believe that. It’ll be a surprise for him when I show up, then. A good one, I hope.
…
Baz
I wish things were always this easy.
…
Simon
I nearly miss my train.
But that’s okay, because it’s just nearly. I don’t have time to go to the bathroom, unfortunately, but at least, I’ll get to Oxford soon.
I’ll get to Baz soon.
I’m really excited to see him. It has become rarer and rarer for me, because often lately, when he visited me, it was only to fuss over me. To worry. To treat me like I’m made of glass.
And I hate all of it.
I want a boyfriend, not a nurse.
It’s my boyfriend I’m going to see, this morning. Not a nurse. I’m going to be the one who’s here for him, this time.
Or at least, I’ll try my damn hardest to be. I don’t know how long I’m going to be at Oxford, but I don’t want to spend that whole time with Baz trying to pick up the broken pieces of me.
I want to give us a semblance of normality. That’s my goal with this trip. My mission.
I’ve only ever been able to be anything other than useless when I had a mission.