Simon
I froze. He wasn't supposed to hear that. I wasn't supposed to think that. And yet, here we are. And what a fucked up place that is. As soon as the words tumbled out of his mouth, I knew I was completely and utterly fucked. I hadn't meant to say those words, they kinda just slipped out. I'd like to think it was a general observation rather than an actual opinion but now I'm not so sure. I mean, I was worried when he was crying.Like legitimately worried about him. And I've NEVER worried about him before. Well, maybe I worry a little…. but only when I don't know where he is or what he's doing, but it's like, not even that much….. I had no idea. Who knows why I said it. I certainly don't. So I did what I always do when I can't think, I stopped thinking.
Baz
I cringed, my eyes squeezing shut as I waited for the fiery smell of burning pine trees. I waited for the angry growls and the crackling magick. I waited for him to go off and maybe this time, he would take me with him. But nothing happened. For awhile. I didn't hear anything for a long time, except the frantic beating of his heart, and eventually it slowed, in time with his steady breaths. If I fucking open my eyes and I see that he is bloody asleep, I will kill him. I cautiously opened my eyes... Unbelieveable. He's asleep. Of course he's asleep. Of course. Bloody fan-fucking-tastic. I sighed loudly, exhaling through my mouth like he does. (Stupid mouth breather.) I ran my fingers through my hair as I stared up at the ceiling. Tomorrow would be sodding terrible but what else is new. Maybe he would answer me. Maybe he would forget it ever happened. I closed my eyes, my aching muscles settling into my lumpy mattress, and I wished for empty dreams.
Simon
Normally, the mornings give me the chance to be loud and obnoxious and purposefully knock into things in order wake Baz up, because he's usually just grumpy rather than dangerous. His grey eyes are filled with sleepy sadness and his hair is always a little wavy, with tiny curls he thinks I can't see, that he tucks behind his ears. But once he's spent about 5 fucking hours in the bathroom, he always walks out looking bloody perfect. With his purposeful stride, raven black hair that lines up flawlessly with his sharp jawline, and a merciless smirk that plays upon his lips. This morning is different. I don't want to wake him up, I don't want to see his sleepy eyes or secret curls. I just want to not think about the things demanding to be thought about. It's easier.
I quietly slip out of bed, the floor chilly under my bare feet. I rustle through my wardrobe, grabbing clothes with silent speed. As I tug a shirt over my unruly mess of curls, I hear rustling over on Baz's side of the room. I sneak a glance his way, and relief floods through me. He's still sleeping, with an arm thrown over his eyes, as if he's shielding himself from seeing something he didn't want to see. The side of Baz's shirt has slipped down his shoulder, exposing pale, ivory skin and a sharp collarbone. There's a lot of Baz that looks sharp enough cut glass, his cheekbones, his shoulder blades, his hips, his mouth… sometimes he looks so deadly and so edged that I'm afraid I'd cut myself if I touched him. Sometimes I want to see if I'm right.
I step carefully across the room, opening the door and closing it, just as noiselessly. I turn, and bound happily down the steps, taking two at a time, excited to have made it past the sleepy vampire with sharp edges, and to be so early to the dining hall for my glorious sour cherry scones. Not thinking had never been better.
Baz
I wake to an eerie silence, as if a loud sound had suddenly gone quiet. As I sit up, swinging my long legs out of bed, I realize what's missing. Or rather who is missing. "Simon," I growl, with irritation and anger. That sneaky bastard made sure he didn't wake me up so I wouldn't have a chance to ask about last night. And now I was going to be late for Elocution, thanks to the bloody tosser. He wasn't getting rid of me this easily. No fucking way. This was Tyrannus Basilton Pitch he was dealing with, and I wanted a fucking answer. And I was going to get one.
Simon
Classes today were fairly easy, and I had a couple ideas for my end of eighth year spell project. I had been looking at this particular song that had been around for awhile and the Normals never seemed to tire of it. (You had to be careful with song lyrics. If the song is suddenly popular and is said/sung a lot, the magick can be very powerful. But if the song gets old and isn't liked anymore, the spell can turn on you faster than you can say 'Uptown Funk'.) This song was different. I think it was called Behemoth Rapsong or something. I really wanted to try this one line, "Spare him his life from this monstrosity". It sounded really wicked.
I was in a good mood, especially since Baz was at football practice, and wouldn't be back until dinner time, and I'd be long gone by then, most likely stuffing my face with roast beef. (My stomach rumbled just thinking about it.) So when I opened the door to our room, my positive mood turned sour. He was lying on his bed, with a book in his lap and his legs crossed at the ankles. Jesus Christ he's such a stuck up prick! I groaned, and muttered, "Ah, fuck me," under my breath. Obviously I must not of been as quiet as I had hoped, because his grey eyes flashed with amusement and the corner of his mouth turned up slightly.
"It's nice to see you too, Snow." I flipped him off as I set my books down on my bed. "Oh my, obscene finger gestures from such a pristine boy," he replied mockingly.
"Sod off, ya tosser."
"And why would I want to do that when we have so much to talk about?" he replied evilly, a mischievous smirk sending shivers down my spine. He slipped off the bed, and practically sauntered over to me. I started to back away, my feet shuffling back reflexively until I felt a wall pressed behind me. He crept forward, his stormy grey eyes locked onto mine, as fear and slight curiosity spiked it's way into my stomach.
"W-w-what are y-you doing," I sputtered out as his hand rested on the wall beside me, next to my head, trapping me.
"You thought you could get away," he whispered, his breath cool on my very red and very flushed face, "but you can't escape me, Simon." I shuddered at the sound of my name coming from his ghostly pale lips. It was so strange. He's never called me Simon, never. And I think I liked it.
Baz
I have no fucking idea what the fuck I'm doing. I am so losing it. But it's working. So I keep going.
"Answer my question," I lean in even closer, my lips just barely brushing his ear, "Simon." He yelps, turning an even darker shade of red, if that's even possible, and he won't meet my gaze. I take his chin with my free hand, and turn him so his wide, blue eyes stare into mine. He shivers at my touch, and I pretend not to notice the way his breath hitches when I slowly run my thumb across his jawline.
"B-but… y-you and A-a-gatha-a and…."
"Oh Simon," I whisper, "you still haven't figured it out yet. The only thing straight about me is my gorgeous hair, and even then," I shrugged letting my body language finish my sentence. His eyes clouded with confusion as he processed my words, and then flashed with clarity. I had no idea where all this was coming from, but me and my perverse fantasies were probably at fault. I had just wanted a confession. Anything I might of said in the process could be brushed off as a way to get him to talk. I had nothing to lose. Except absolutely everything, because as soon as he realized what I was saying, the determined look in his eyes and the set of his jaw made me question everything. And then he did the unexpected. He smiled a smile that was evil and smug and sneaky and it made my knees go weak to the point I was glad I was leaning against a wall. He didn't stop there. He wrapped an arm around my neck, pulling me down, pulling me towards him so close our noses were touching. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, I couldn't move. He opened his mouth and whispered, "Baz, you wanted an answer, so here it is. I think you're hot as fuck." And without missing a beat, Simon put his hand on my cheek, and kissed me with no hesitation.
Penny
My knuckles rapped smartly on the door as I pushed it open. (Simon never cared if I knocked or not, it was Baz we had to watch out for. I wasn't worried though, Baz was at football practice.) My eyes quickly scanned the room, and I was a bit shocked to see Baz here, well the back of him anyways. Wait, where was Simon? I stepped farther into the room, trying to see where my best friend was... And that's when I saw him, or rather the parts of him that weren't totally wrapped around his roommate. I cleared my throat, trying to disrupt the frantic snogging going on right in front of me, but they were both much too busy. Aleister Crowley, this is getting annoying.
"HEY SIMON," I yelled, raising my annoyed voice, "WHATCHA DOING THERE?"