This is my first attempt at a Carry On Fanfic. I really like to imagine what happened before 'Carry On' (Particularly Baz's thoughts and feelings). Depending on feedback, I may publish more.

Thank you for taking the time to read!

"Go to bed, Snow."

"I am."
"Go quicker."

Simon sighs, rolling his eyes.

Simon Snow is getting undressed for bed. And I can't stop staring. Why does he have to do it like that? I think as he sloooowly unbuttons his shirt. The worst part about it is that he doesn't even know he's doing it, and what it's doing to me. I huff loudly, loudly enough for him to get the message and roll over in bed. I don't think I can bear the sight of him topless tonight. It's getting painful and I have to force myself to look away. He shuffles around in the bathroom for a few more minutes. Hurry up! I think. The fact that he's stomping around with no regard for me isn't even what's irritating. It's the fact that he feels the need to stomp around with no regard for me with the entire top half of his body completely exposed. Does he know? Does he know how difficult it is for me not to stare? Does he know how difficult it is for me to stare? Does he know how difficult it is for me having to spend night after night with him just there? No, Simon Snow does not know, nor will he ever.

That's the most painful part; knowing that I'm going to have to deal with this for nearly two more years. I've thought about asking the mage if I could swap rooms but that wouldn't be allowed. And that would be painful. And I'd also have to talk to the mage.

It's all I can do not to groan out loud at the frustrating, painful thoughts inside my head. And it's all because of you Simon Snow. You and your bloody habits and your hair and your Lack. Of. Bloody. Pyjamas.

Sometimes I want to kill him.

He finally crawls into bed, fidgeting and shuffling and adjusting the quilts. He does that every night. He does it in his sleep too. And he snores.

He used to say goodnight to me, even if it was begrudgingly, but now it's just silence.

I think it's because he knows I'm a vampire. Stupid word… I think. Vampire.

That's all he sees me as now, I can tell. He's always staring at my mouth. As though my fangs are going to pop out at any second. He doesn't even know they're there. But they are. And sometimes I think about what it would be like to sink them into his neck… Well, not really. I think more about what it would be like to have my mouth on his neck.

No, don't start, I will myself not to start fantasising. Not now.

It's my fault he found out about me, anyway. I could have been more careful but I wanted him to find out. I'm not entirely sure what I was trying to achieve by that but it's out in the open now.

And it's made things so much more complicated.

Simon Snow thinks that I am a monster. I'm not exactly great at proving myself otherwise. Everything I say is the opposite to what I'm thinking. He does genuinely irritate me. He's an idiot. And he has stupid habits. And a stupid way of doing his hair. And a stupid girlfriend. And he's all I can think about.

I realised it as soon as he discovered what I was. He'd followed me around for months, hunting out my terrible secret, determined to show the world what a monster I was - and I let him. I played with him, toyed with him. I still savour every expression that flickered over his face that night. First of all it was triumph; he'd found me in a compramising situation and this was his ultimate chance to abolish his fatal enemy. Then it was confusion as it dawned on him that we'd spent five years together and I still hadn't attacked him. Then he got frustrated, because there was nothing he could do to stop me getting him right then and then in those dark and deserted catacombs. I read it all over his eyes and his mouth – he uses his mouth a lot to convey expression. He realised I'd been playing him for a fool this whole time. He was slightly wrong there though. He believed I had been waiting for this moment to bring about his downfall, when in fact I just wanted to witness the devastatingly beautiful moment that he discovered everything. Those ridiculously obvious looks on his face. Well, it was all worth it. I don't think the night ended as he expected. It didn't end as I expected either. He let me go. And as he walked out of those catacombs, sword held loosely in one hand, I had an overwhelming urge to run after him and kiss him. That was when I knew. I was in love with Simon Snow. I had been from the first moment I met him, and I would until my last breath on this earth. And who knows when that could be.