❄️You Feel A Little Warm Love | Snowbaz

SIMON

I open my eyes and see Baz's face. This is closer than we've ever been before and for the first time I can properly see his eyes. The colours in them, (yes colours plural) not one, but many swirling together is mesmerising.

I should move, I should get myself as far away from him as possible but I can't stop watching his eyes. They're filled with something I can't define because I've never seen it on his face before. It doesn't look like hatred . . . is it sadness? Fear?

I try to look closer and feel his grey irises pulling me in, I wonder what I'll find there in the depths of Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch's eyes. They're beautiful, he's beautiful. Well, now he's blurry, everything is. I feel heavy and sleep tugs at my aching body while the kaleidoscope of colours continues to swirl around me. It's pretty at first but it soon becomes dizzying.

It hurts. I scream. I call out for the one person here. I hope he can hear me, I hope listens. Maybe he doesn't hear me, maybe he doesn't care. Maybe he'll let me die in the colourful world all alone.

The thought brings despair down like a heavy weight on me and soon it's eating everything, the colours are disappearing. Being sucked away and I feel the sucking itching feeling too. The Humdrum, I feel him but he's nowhere else to be seen, nothing is anywhere to be seen actually. It's all just black, black, black, black and more black. No colour or texture I can't even feel my hands anymore but I feel heavy, so heavy.

I feel like I'm getting heavier by the second and I just know that if I get too heavy I'll fall, deep, deep, deep, down, down, down into the darkness. I think I liked the colours better. I don't want to fall. I want to see him again, Baz, I mean, just one more time. I want to see him to remind me that all of this is real, that magic is real, that I'm real. 

I suppose any mage could do that but I want it to be Baz, I need it to be Baz actually. Because even when everything was shifting and changing and nothing was certain Baz was, Baz was certain. He's been the one constant in my life since I was eleven. Even if The Mage was away, even if he went away and never came back and even if Penny gave up on putting up with me and stopped being my friend, even if Agatha broke up with me even if no one else was there by my side Baz would still be my roommate.

I want to hear his voice again, his footsteps around the room reminding me that someone is still here, his clean comforting scent like cedar and bergamot and magic. I want to hear him play the violin again. I love his music. I think that if I could hear it now I could bring some of the colour back. I don't really care if I die, I've never been welcomed in the Normal world and I've only ever caused The World of Mages trouble but I don't want to go without seeing Baz at least one more time. I try to reach out, but the crushing weight holds me back.

I stay there, in the blackness for what feels like hours—days and whenever I catch myself slipping away, deep down into the darkness I hold onto the one thing I'm always sure of:

Knowing that he's still alive, so, so alive. Like Fire.

Grey eyes.

Black hair.

The fact that Basilton Pitch is a vampire.

And I don't know what I'd do without him.

It's okay now through the black, as long as I keep Baz in my mind I can manage the crushing weight and the piercing all consuming darkness. I imagine I hear him saying my name, my real name, not Snow but Simon. I'd do anything to hear him call me Simon again. I can hear him but it's vague and muffled and just too faint to make out but it makes me happy anyway. If I have to be trapped here at least I have that memory.

Then I feel something cold, I look around but there's still nothing. And then the blackness begins to crack. The colours come roaring back and I'm yanked up through the kaleidoscope back into our room. I'm face to face with Baz— literally.

(A/N I've never written a fever dream/hallucination before I hope this was alright. Does it need a trigger warning?)