SIMON

Suddenly, for the second time this morning, I'm on my back with someone's face pressed to mine. Someone's entire body, actually. This feels different from before, though. For one thing, I'm in pain, as I think whoever this is landed on me from the sky. For another, there is no warmth or lightness here whatsoever. Everything is heavy and cold.

I reached out instinctively to stop myself being flattened and now my hands are squashed between our two bodies, gripping a pair of muscular shoulders. My head is twisted uncomfortably to the side and I can't see who this is, but I can feel each shallow exhale on my cheek. I hope whoever it is is alright. Falling from the sky can't be good for you. I try for a bit of leverage with my arms—to give myself enough space to turn my head and see.

I should have left well enough alone. There wasn't room to maneuver and now I'm stuck here nose to nose with some bloke—it's clear by now it's not a girl. It doesn't smell like a girl—and we're breathing uncomfortably into each other's space. On my next inhale I catch the faint sent of bergamot. My stomach begins to turn a slow somersault.

"Get off." I grunt. Why won't he move? I need to see who this is.

"I can't, you oaf," comes the reply. "You're on my legs."

My stomach finishes its somersault and begins to compress itself into a heavy lump of lead. And it's not because I've suddenly realized how embarrassingly intertwined my legs are with those of the boy who fell from the sky. It's because the voice—and the legs—belongs to Baz.

I shove his shoulders again—now I know who it is, I'm not bothered about accidentally hurting him—and turn to find myself staring into his eyes. We're so close I think my mouth brushed along his cheek when I turned my head. Our lips are only millimeters apart now and, Crowley, shades of the dream I woke from less than ten minutes ago are still haunting me. I almost kiss him. But I don't want to die and I'm pretty sure kissing my sworn enemy like this, away from the safety of the anathema, would lead to a swift and painful death. Why can't that stupid dream stay in my subconscious where it belongs? I growl in frustration and when I jut my chin forward out of habit, our lips touch.

My heart and my brain both explode in a firework of stars.

Maybe the timing is coincidence, but after one frozen second, lips on lips, staring into each others' eyes, Baz begins thrashing his lower half back and forth until he disentangles his legs from mine, then he tears his arms out of my grasp, and pushes himself to his feet. He's breathing heavily still. I'm surprised at how long it's taking him to recover from his fall.

I jump to my feet as well and in a flood of horror I remember why I was running away from our room in the first place. Almost kissing Baz when he was incapacitated—by my legs—has made a bad situation ten times worse.

I start easing backwards towards the Woods. A few more metres and I'll be out of his casting range. Then I can turn and run. It might be a good idea to spend a few days away after this. Maybe Ebb will let me stay with her and I can help look after the goats.

BAZ

Simon, who said my name in his sleep while his girlfriend kissed him, is running into the Wavering Wood. Simon, who said my name in his sleep and almost kissed me on the lips just now, is running, nearly naked, into the Wavering Wood.

I'll hate myself for this in a moment, but I can't bear the idea of him going like this. I yell, "Stop!" at his retreating back.

I'm not expecting him to respond. I'm definitely not expecting him to comply but, miraculously, he does.

"Where the hell do you think you're going, Snow?" I snarl.

He's not coming back, but at least he's no longer running. He looks down at the ground.

"Away. For a bit… I think. I… Uh. I've got to go." He starts to turn back towards the Wood.

"Don't be daft, Snow." I take a slow step towards him, like I'm approaching a rabbit. A half-naked, extremely attractive rabbit. "You haven't even had breakfast. And I know you have that Magic Words project to finish today." I let my voice soften, just a bit. He's probably too far gone to notice, but I'm terrified driving him away. I'm trying to be gentle here, for maybe the first time ever."

He just stares at me, like he doesn't understand plain English. Then he comes to and shakes his head like a dog just in from the rain.

"Erm… yeah. Yes. Well, I think I'll at least head to the Wood for a bit, then. I can't walk back through the school like this." He gestures to his body, tawny and scattered with moles, on full display—ratty old boxers notwithstanding—in the light of the morning sun. As if I wasn't already painfully aware of every detail.

"No one saw you dash out here in the nude. Why so modest all of a sudden?" The half-sneer with which I accompany those words nearly kills me.

He runs a hand through his tangled morning hair and looks back down at the ground. "It's nearly breakfast time. People will be about. Penny's bringing me clothes. I'll wait for her there."

I shouldn't get involved. I know I shouldn't The events of the morning have been messy enough already. But the thought of a near-naked Simon in the woods at the mercy of whatever horrifying thing pops up to attack him is depressing. Potentially hot, but depressing.

I point my want at him and call up my magic quickly, before he as time to register it. "Karma chameleon."

"What was that!?" Snow shouts.

"Just a concealment spell. Don't get your pants in a twist." We both inadvertently glance down at his too tight, too thin boxers, and flush with embarrassment—though it's infinitely more visible on Snow.

"There are no true invisibility spells, so you'll find this doesn't completely conceal you from everyone, however it should be sufficient to get you back to our room with your shining reputation intact."

I turn and start to walk back towards Mummer's House.

"Like you?" Simon says, following me.

I turn my head just enough to snarl at him. "You are making absolutely no sense, Snow. As usual."

"I mean, you can see me, yeah?"

He's got me there. "Of course I can." I cast about for a quick lie. "As the person who cast the spell on you, naturally I can see you."

"Oh. That makes sense." He says. Then, after a pause, "Thanks."

I walk faster.