A/N: Just a one-shot for Snowbaz because, realistically, I don't think Baz would've fully gotten over his insecurities after a few kisses from Simon- even if they were amazing.

Based on the writing prompt "I'm getting really tired of pretending I'm not evil."

Rated T for language

SIMON

"I'm getting really tired of pretending I'm not evil."

I scoff and lock eyes with him. Even his eyes are tired. Usually they're so alive- which he'd completely argue against because he says he's technically dead, which isn't true, as I always tell him. Nobody dead could have as much sarcasm as he has. I don't know how that works, but every time I say it he laughs and forgets about him technically being dead.

"Pretending?" I ask. "What about when you pushed me down the stairs? That was pretty evil."

"Snow," he grumbles, pushing his eyelids further down, so I can only see a sliver of dead grey.

He's gotten pretty good at calling me Simon recently, but if he's in a bad mood- usually from speaking with his father- or if he's just being plain stubborn, like now, he'll revert back to Snow. He knows- like, really knows- it annoys me and he gets this smirk on his face that I know only too well. It reminds me of Baz before we decided to be each other's terrible boyfriends.

"Simon," I correct him.

His legs shuffle and unfold from mine and Penny's sofa. His feet almost meet mine. I want to nudge my legs forward a bit. But I don't. Not right now.

"I'm a monster, Snow." He rakes his falling hair from his eyes. "I'm a vampire and you're-"

"The worst Chosen One to ever be chosen," I tell him, rolling my eyes. "I know."

"You're not a monster, Baz." I put my hand on his knee warily, and, although seeming reluctant at first, he doesn't push me away. "You may be a right tosser at times but you'll never be a monster."

He doesn't say anything but his eyes are more open now and brighter. Brighter and alive. I start to rub circles on his thigh- something I've seen countless times on the soaps that Penny watches on TV. It's meant to soothe the person, but he puts his hand on top of mine, stilling my movements. At first, I think he's going to argue. But he doesn't. And that's what makes it worse. He just looks at me like he did in the forest that night and I swear- just for a moment- I see the orange flames dancing in his eyes again.

"Don't," he whispers, voice cracking. "I'm evil, Simon. I'm evil, and you're… you're Simon Snow. You stopped the Humdrum. You're the fucking Chosen One- best or worst, it doesn't matter. You're still... him."

"Not really," I say, keeping my voice light. At least one of us has to stay whole. If I crack, then Baz will... "I have no magic."

The orange flames die in his eyes and they're suddenly tattooed with pity. At least I've distracted him for now. I'm not sure Penny would be impressed to find half the flat burned down when she comes home from visiting Micah in America. I can just imagine her face, thinking of some spell to fix it.

"Simon."

I can barely hear him. It's hardly a whisper. But I smile. I know how Baz feels about me losing my magic and he knows how I feel about him thinking he's a monster. It's a mutual understanding that apparently Baz thinks he can break. Tosser.

"You're not evil," I say again lamely. "And I may not have my magic anymore, but I remember how it felt. I remember how yours felt too. And it wasn't evil, Baz."

He laughs a watery laugh. "Only you- Simon Oliver Snow, the Chosen One- would say something like that."

"Only the worst Chosen One," I add with a grin.

"Shut up, Snow."

"Simon."

Baz smiles and I look for his fangs- or where they should be, at least. He's not evil. He's just a boy. A boy that I love (his father's still skirting around that, but we'll get through to him someday), even when he's a vampire and I'm an ex-mage. It's weird and backwards but it's all right.

"Shut up, Simon."

And done!

Thanks for reading!x