*BAZ*

I can't concentrate. Snow is sitting on his bed, scratching at his homework with an old pencil that needs

to be replaced. Each time he sharpens it, it sounds a little better, and just just when I think it has

stopped scratching, it starts all over again.

As Snow keeps on writing, unaware of a what a distraction and annoyance he is, my fingers aching. I

want to reach over and jab that stupid, old pencil into his rib cage.

And then kiss him.

I shake my head, turning back to my paper and try to concentrate. I'm particularly annoyed with Snow

this afternoon and in a particularly bad mood, thanks to the events of such a shitty day.

This morning, he got up like usual and clambered around, banging into things with no regard for me. I

got up and changed quickly, planning to hurry down to the tombs before breakfast. I hasn't eaten in two

days and I was growing twitchy. Snow wasn't helping. I thought I was going to get up and suck the life

from him in the middle of the night. I know exactly where I would've placed my fangs too. They would've

sunken into his neck right above that little mole, and I would have enjoyed it.

But, instead I spent the night struggling to refrain from smelling his cinnamon scent.

Just as I was rushing towards the door the next morning, Snow stepped out of the bathroom, and I

collided full on with him. My face collided right with his bouncy, blonde curls.

"Fuck!" I yelled as my hunger kicked in fully.

"I know you can't cast a fucking spell, but I thought you could at least stay out of the way of others you

dimwit!", I shouted with what I knew was a look of disgust on my face.

The truth was, I was disgusted with myself. I could barely contain myself, and my hands shook as I tried

to keep from sinking my sharp teeth into him.

"Why are you up so early?", Snow asks, ignoring my insults.

I'm about to sneer another remark, but I feel my fangs come down in my mouth, and in a moment of

panic, I push past him, hitting him hard with my shoulder, and leave the room, letting the door slam

behind me.

After twisting the necks of a few rats in the tombs before draining their blood, I sit in Elocution, feeling

like death.

I guess that fits since I am actually dead.

I'm sitting behind Snow for once, instead of up front like usual. I was late to class by a few minutes

because of my unusual early morning feeding, and therefore had to sit diagonally behind Snow.

I'm concentrating hard in class, just not on what I'm supposed to be. I'm looking at Snow, who's

watching Agatha. She's a few rows in front of me, so I can clearly see every time Snow glances at her,

and each time it makes me more and more annoyed at the fucking mess I'm in.

The rest of the day isn't much better. Snow sits with Agatha and Bunce while he eats, and seems to

laugh more then any other day. His smile and laugh mock me, while I secretly steal glances from afar.

As I think back to all the events of the day, I continue to feel a jitter of anger and annoyance as Snow

scratches and scratches away next to me.

I try to refrain, but I can't hold it in anymore.

"Goddamnit, do you have to be such an annoying bloke?!" I spit at him.

Snow looks up, distaste in his eyes. His gorgeous, irresistible, blue eyes fill my head every night as I fall

asleep.

"Do you have to be such a prick?" he fires back, venom in his voice.

"I don't know, Agatha seems to like it," I tell him with a knowing sneer.

I can see his jaw clench and unclench, and can smell the faint scent of smoke. Good. He should feel as

angry as I do at him sometimes. He should feel the blood coursing through his veins as he tries to hold

himself back.

The only difference is I know he's trying to stop himself from killing me, while I'm trying to fight myself

from kissing a boy who will one day be the death of me.

"What?" I spit at him, trying to daunt him.

He's breathing hard like he always does when he's trying to concentrate on not going off. My eyes make

linger at his neck again, and even with a full stomach of blood from that morning, I imagine myself kissing

up it slowly, listening his heart beat wildly and smelling his scent.

*SIMON*

He's making his scheming face again. God, I want to pin him against the wall and hit him. But even

without the spell on the room stopping me from doing so, I know I would never go through with it. I'm so

lame I can't even get the guts to hit the guy that is leading my girlfriend on.

I realize I'm standing there, not doing anything. He's still looking at me in his evil ways like he always

does.

"I'm going to bed," I mutter under my breath. I grab the boxers and shirt I sleep in and go into the

bathroom.

When I come out Baz is already lying under his blankets, asleep. I open the window, but hear grunt

from behind me. So, not asleep then. I ignore Baz's feeble protest and climb under my covers.

*BAZ*

I lay still for what seems like hours, listening to Snow's breathing, imagining the impossible situation

where I get up and lay with him in his bed, letting the rise and fall of his chest soothe me to sleep. I

get up and quietly close the window. As I climb back under the layers of blankets on my bed, I realize

that I might have gotten a little too excited at the idea of sharing a bed with Snow.

Of-fucking-course. I'm in such deep, colossal shit.