Chapter 2
Sweet Dreams
Baz
I don't go back to sleep that night. I leave our dorm room, it feels too stifling right now, I need space. I need room to think, or to not think.
I don't want to think about Simon Snow anymore. I don't want to think about my dreams. I don't want to think about his hands, or his lips… Dreams don't mean anything though, right?
A dream is just that, a dream.
Or, at least I can try and tell myself that.
I'm in the catacombs again, I'm not thirsty, I had enough rats earlier. Normally I might read or even sleep, but I feel too jittery to sit still, I just walk up and down the dark, cold stone halls and reason with myself. Am I gay? I don't know. I've never thought about it before. I don't think I'm gay, but… I don't know.
It's not something you can look up in a book, or on the internet (well, you probably could). I can't just ask my dad about being gay, I have no idea how he'd react. He's always talked about grandchildren one day.
"Fuck!" I lean against a stone wall, closing my eyes. I can't be gay, not really. I've never liked boys… I've never really liked girls either come to think of it. Even if I am gay, I wouldn't be gay for Simon fucking Snow, that would make me a disgrace to the name of Pitch. More of a disgrace. The heir to the throne of Pitch, the one who's supposed to kill the Mage's heir, not kiss him.
I open my eyes, the dim candle light makes shadows flicker and dance across the grey stone. It's deathly quiet (Crowley, you know what I mean), if I tilt my head and concentrate I can make out the quiet, skittering of rats and even more faintly- Fuck. It almost sounds like… breathing?
"Who's there?" I sneer with as much feeling as possible, standing quickly and pulling my wand out of my sleeve. I walk towards the sound quickly, it's not like I have anything to be afraid of. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"
"Fuck!" I hear someone stumbling towards me, the spell forcing each step. Snow falls over his feet, landing hard on the stone floor.
"What are you doing? Resorting to stalking now, Snow?" My hands curl into fists, I'm so angry I'm almost blushing. Why can't have one moment away from him?
"What are you doing? Plotting? You don't exactly come off as innocent sneaking off to the catacombs at three in the morning!" Snow stands now, brushing off dust and cobwebs from his school issued pyjamas. His hair is fussed and falling across his eyes, I have the sudden urge to brush it across his forehead, sweeping those golden curls back from his blue eyes. Crowley, stop it, I can't let myself think like that.
"Maybe I just came down to pay respects to my bloody dead mother! Even though she's dead, at least I know I had a mother. That's more than I can say for you." I snap at him, a verbal punch and I can see him recoil. It's a low blow, not one I usually would resort to, but I'm angry and confused and too busy hating myself to care. I leave him there in the semi darkness, turning on my heel and walking away. Ten minutes ago I felt as if I'd had 12 espressos, now I all feel is tired. I'm not paying attention until I find myself at the top of Mummer's House, opening the door and falling into bed without turning on the light. I hear Snow come inside a few minutes later, as he lays down I hear him crying.
Good, I think to myself and then regret it. I may hate him, but right now I think I hate myself more.
I don't sleep for the rest of the night. I toss and turn, eventually grabbing my headphones and turning up my music until I can't hear myself think anymore.
As soon as the weak light of morning begins to trickle in through the window, I'm up and out of bed, locking myself in the bathroom. I twist the knobs in the shower, turning up the heat until it almost burns, but not quite. I'm sluggish and exhausted, so getting ready takes longer than normal, at least classes don't start until tomorrow. If I had to sit through Greek today I might light myself on fire. I'm already passed all of the year 5 curriculum, but the Mage refuses to put in classes with the older students, something or another about "special treatment" and class sizes. It's utter shit, but there's nothing the Families can do about it, just one drop in the bucket of reasons why we hate the Mage.
As I'm drying my hair, Snow starts to knock on the door.
"Baz! Hurry up, I need to shower before breakfast and you've probably used all of the hot water!"
"Give me a minute, Snow. You're precious scones won't disappear in ten minutes." He sighs dramatically from the other side of the door, and I can hear him muttering to himself as he throws himself on his bed. He's such a child sometimes.
As soon as I open the door he's up and rushing for the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. I quickly finish getting ready now that Snow is showering. We never dress in front of each other. We never have and probably never will, it's an unspoken agreement between us. I just want to get out and get down to breakfast, circles under my eyes be damned. I'm lacing up my shoes when I hear the water shut off, I'm grabbing my bag and racing down the stairs before he even opens the bathroom door.
Dev and Niall are at our usual table, I sit down, grabbing a cup of tea from the pot on the table and adding cream and sugar.
"Morning, Baz." Niall yawns, taking a scone from the basket on table. Dev grunts sleepily, propping his head up on one hand.
"You two look like death, when did you get in?" I take a sip of tea, ugh, it's room temperature. "Some like it hot!" I wave my wand over my mug and it starts steaming. Much better.
"About 15 minutes ago, too bloody early. We were up half the night at a Normal party, but Mum and Dad don't know about that part." Niall smirks, tearing off a piece of scone and popping into his mouth. "But you're one to talk, what happened to you?"
"Didn't sleep well, The Chosen One has chosen to annoy the living hell out of me nearly all night. Never mind that, how was summer?" We go on making small talk, I'm only listening as Niall describes the Normal girl he hooked up with at the party when Snow walks into the dining room, making a beeline for the scones and butter. As he's walking towards Wellbelove and Bunce, he catches my eyes and glowers. I glare back, tempted to hex him, because why not, but I straighten the cuffs of my shirt instead. Still only half listening to Niall. He and Dev are laughing now. I force a laugh, glancing up at the clock on the wall and stand, running my fingers through my long black hair.
"Where are you off to now?" Dev yawns at me, scratching his cheek.
"Violin practice, then to football." I shrug, slinging my bag over one shoulder. "I'll see you both later then?" The two nod and continue talking about the Normal girl (Miranda, I think). I always practice the violin in a small classroom on the third floor of the main building, I don't have lessons until winter, but I love to practice. There's a sort of calm when I play, as if everything melts away and it's just me and music, nothing except the wooden bow in one hand and the press of the violin against my collarbone and chin, the notes floating off of the strings delicately and always slightly mournful, like a dove.
The door to the classroom is locked when I reach it. "Open Sesame!" I gently tap the door with my wand and it swings open. My violin waits for me on a shelf near the window. I don't trust Snow to keep it in our room, it belonged to my grandfather and it means the world to me. The hinges creak slightly as I unclasp the case and as I lift it into position everything feels right.
I begin to play, and the world disappears.
Simon
"Penny, I'm telling you, he's being odder than usual. I told you about the catacombs, and he hardly even snapped at me this morning." I'm spreading a thick slab of butter on my fifth cherry scone, Penny looks bored as she sips her tea.
"Simon if I had a pound for every time you complained about Baz plotting, I think I'd have about..." she trails off and I can see the gears turning in her head, working out the equation. "Well, I'd be quite rich I can assure you. At least you don't have a mildly disturbed pixie as a roommate. I'm already trying to spell the dust out of everything, it's everywhere!" She sighs, setting down her cup and brushing a stray lock of dark red hair out of her eyes.
"Penelope… He really is up to something this time, I can feel it! Look, see, he's leaving to go somewhere, probably off plotting..." I'm standing up, shoving the last bit of scone into my mouth and grabbing another for my pocket. "Come on, we'll lose him." Penny sighs and stands reluctantly and follows me me out of the room.
I peer around the corner as Baz opens the door to a classroom I've never seen used before, it's tucked away in a corner of the school that overlooks the White Chapel. As the door closes I take Penny by the hand and we creep towards it, silently pressing our heads against the door and listening closely.
"I can't hear anything." I whisper and Penny shakes her head, putting a finger to her lips. She raises her ring against the door and whispers under her breath.
"DJ turn it up!" And then the sound from the other side is magnified so intensely we might as well be standing right next to him. There's a slight creak and shuffling, and then the complete opposite of what I expect happens. Instead of listening to a phone call or hearing Baz plotting some way to try and kill me this year, I hear the most beautiful music in the world.
I'm not sure what song it is, but it's the perfect blend of bittersweet and hopeful. It's haunting and it seems to echo all of the feelings I've ever had about anything. It reminds me of summers without Watford, it reminds me of the day I realized I didn't have parents, it's the day that I first saw Agatha and she was so beautiful I had to remind myself to breathe.
It takes me a moment to register when the music stops, and Penny has to grab my shoulder and haul me out of the way just as Baz opens the door.
"Snow?"
Baz
Snow looks shocked, his mouth is hanging open. He fell down on the floor with Bunce standing over him, glaring. But Snow doesn't look… I don't know. It almost looks like he doesn't hate me, and for just a moment. I let myself think that about a world where Snow didn't hate me. I imagine our hands pressed together… And then the real world comes crashing back like a fucking wave, knocking me over. Snow does hate me, enough to kill me one day. Oddly, I can't help but think it might not be such a terrible way to die.
"Snow?" He's still staring at me, and Bunce is pulling him to his feet, trying urge him along. He seems to snap out of his trance and bolts, dragging Bunce behind him. I should be furious that they followed me, that they heard me playing. But I can't get that look on Snow's face out of head…
I'll snap at him later, I have an appearance to maintain. But right now, I need to change for football.