AN: I think this is going to be a couple more chapters long, from the tenuous plan I have in my head. Please do review.
BAZ
I lay staring at Simon, his body all contorted, his curls sticking out in haphazard tufts. It brings back voyeuristic memories of Watford, torturing myself as I'd stare at him unabashedly, the only time I could. It's better now I'm allowed to watch him, but I feel like I'll never get used to it. We're lying in the same bed, our skin touching. At first, it was strange for Simon, my skin seeping coldness against his warmth, but now it's summer, the air humid, and it has the benefit of meaning we don't need to keep the window open at night. It's early morning, but it's already light out, and I don't think I'd manage to get back to sleep now. I don't technically live here, but I end up being here a lot, apart from when I'm at uni. It felt weird at first not having Simon in my classes, alternating between furtive glances and mocking him, but I think it's better that we do spend some time apart. It's not that I want him to be away from me, but I do want him to have something of his own.
He stirs, groaning slightly, and I bite my lip and feel myself stirring at the sound. And then feel guilty, as it's entirely possible that it's not a groan from a good dream. I suppress those feelings away for later on and wrap my arms around him tightly, burying my face in the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He smells so good, and it makes me so hungry that I'm grateful I fed as much as I did last night. He settles down, the only sounds he makes being soft breaths again.
Simon hasn't exactly been the same since it all happened. The Mage dying, the loss of his magic, those wings and tail… Though I'm trying to maintain normalcy with my usual ribbing about those. Myself and Bunce magick them away, but I know they still piss him off. He can't get used to the change in his balance, and keeps tripping over his tail. Secretly I find it rather endearing, but I'd never let him know. I'm limited with what I can do about the Mage and his magic, but I think the psychologist he sees over Skype is helping with that.
Though I can't help but feel guilty because I'm so happy. I never thought I'd have this, him in my bed, me being able to hold him. I always thought I'd have to make a choice, between killing him and keeping my powers, but actually, it was him that lost his magick. And his magick was everything, so much bigger than us, than anything. It was brought him to Watford, away from the dingy children's homes and foster parents that he hated, that I mocked him mercilessly about when I was a stupid, careless kid, and now feel so bad about. His magick was what brought us together, but it nearly broke everything apart and now it's gone.
He says he doesn't mind, but I see that look on his face sometimes, like when I and Bunce get into a snit and debate the semantics of which spell is best. I stopped myself at first, but that seemed to piss him off more, and he insisted that he wants things to just stay normal. But I don't understand how I'm supposed to do that when things are so different?
Before he was the one in charge, the one to reach out and kiss me, the one to hold his body above me and make me reach out and take what I wanted. Which was good, as I hadn't a clue what I was doing. Still don't really. Now he's not nearly as free with his kisses and touches, apart from my hand, which is always clasped in his. I think it helps situate him. We sit in silence sometimes, him staring into space, and then he jolts back, searching the room for me. For all my endless watching of Simon Snow, he matches it right back.
I can't help but focus on how soft his skin is, and the moles scattered on his body, like a constellation of stars. I want to kiss every one of them. I want him so badly, all of the time, but I'm frightened to ask for something that he's not able to give right now. I thought nothing could have been worse than sharing a room with him, but it turned out I really knew nothing about want. How I feel now is pure burning. Which I should really be more concerned about, considering I'm a vampire.
My phone vibrates loudly on the desk, the noise stirring Simon from his slumber. He looks up, groggy and annoyed, his face scrunched up. He's still stupidly handsome like this, and it's always a shock to me that he's here with me, like this. He throws his hand over his eyes, the sunlight hurting them (like he can talk, try being a vampire).
'You're bloody freezing!' I go to move away from him, but he pulls me back. 'No, just give me more of the duvet, you thieving git.' He looks at the clock, sees the time, and puts his head back on the pillow, kissing my hand encircled his chest and settling down to go back to sleep.