Simon Snow

I don't know what I'm hoping for. I just know that I want him to be here, where I can see him. So i know where he is and what he's doing.
Maybe he wanted to make me so paranoid over him that I went off and killed the mage or something. That had already nearly happened once.

I bit my thumb, yes that was probably it, i could just imagine him, laughing from his evil vampire lair, with his long silky hair and intense gray eyes. I could hear him whispering, And you fell right for it Snow.

But he wasn't here to even whisper it to me. He was gone, and i couldn't take it. But he wouldn't miss school just for that, I knew it, he would want to be here, to taunt me in person, You promised to make my life miserable, you evil plotting vampire.

Then it came to me, he was doing just that, by not being here, I was going insane with worry over him, over Basilton Fucking Grimm-Pitch, the evil plotting vampire who has wanted to kill me since we were eleven, of all people.

I don't know what I was thinking, but for some reason involving a fallen handkerchief, I needed to get up to the ramparts tonight more than ever. It was the only way I could think these days, no one really went up there, especially at night.I don't know how many times I had come up here out of despair and desperation when I couldn't go back to our room and face his empty bed, along with air that didn't smell of cedar and bergamot, and all the memories that came with it, and the silence that didn't.

The cool air cleared my head. The light of the moon illuminated Watford all the way to the Wavering Woods, over the football pitch. Where by now, I only watched the team practice in the vain hope that he might be there, and the one player who kinda looked like him.

Sometimes I let myself get by on remembering how good he played, his hair floating around his face when he moved, or tied back in a long ponytail, he was the best player on the team, now there was a huge difference in how the team worked, with a perfect part missing. I remembered how he looked after a game, never a hair out of place. How he always flashed me that smile of his when they won a match.

Bloody perfect.

While standing out there for a while, my eyes just searching across the Watford moonlight, I prayed that tonight it be me waiting to see when Baz would appear. Even though i knew he won't, my hope of this made me want to stay. To wait. to pray he would be okay.

Putting my hand in my pockets, i felt for a piece of fabric. Sighing, I pulled in out. It was a handkerchief. Flames, the moon, three falcons, along with the initials T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch. I remembered finding it on the ground just below the ramparts. At the time, my thoughts told me maybe it had been Baz trying to tell me something, that he was safe and okay. Or maybe to draw me into a trap.

But now maybe, I felt like I would do anything even if it did happen to be a trap. Just to know he wasn't dead, fully dead. I started to cry.

You're supposed to be here, you bloody vampire and I whispered Come back to me, Baz.

tears ran down my face and soaked into his handkerchief clutched in my hands. At the time I hadn't realized I was glowing with the power of those words. Those words that had connected with my emotions and that I had been pushing all my magic into those words.

I had hope and it hurt very second it wasn't enough to bring Baz back. Fucking Bloodsucker.

This is my first work writing a Snowbaz work so please feel free what you think.

I wanted this to stay as close to the original text of our beloved Carry On and possible but also change a scene I almost gave up on the book for.

Hope you like it, Firebird8000.