We'll Be Fireproof

Epilogue

He's asleep beside me. Soft red-brown skin illuminated by pale moonlight. Black hair spread over his pillow. He's wonderful.

It's been a tumultuous couple of months. But good. Amazing. Too good to be true.

I moved away from my dad. I got a job, started uni. Baz and I moved in. He proposed. I cried.

Now, when I cry, it's happy. I'm never sad with Baz. He makes sure of it.

It's been 11 months since we moved in together. 3 since we got engaged. I'm not sure how my dad feels about him, but I don't care. I only see him when he needs to see me.

I think he finally feels guilty. We never make eye contact when we see each other. It's always a series of short sentences and quick glances.

I'm happier without him.

Baz plays the violin for me when I can't sleep. If I have bad dreams, which have been a strong occurrence since I moved away, he makes me a cup of tea and plays my favourite song.

I move in closer to Baz and he instantly wakes up. He always has a response to me, just in case I get bad during the night. He's too nice to me. I don't know how to deal with it.

"Are you okay?" He asks, sleep-clouded eyes searching my face. I nod.

"Yes. I'm sorry I woke you."

"No worries, sweet boy. Do you want me to play for you?" He thumbs my jaw, stroking it back and forth. I close my eyes and shake my head.

He presses a soft kiss to my forehead. "Okay."

We don't speak much. I worry that I'm not good for him, that I'm too broken and that it's making him broken too. But when I say that he runs his fingers through my hair and presses a kiss to my forehead and whispers that I'm not broken and that I'm just right for him. That we match.

It's my favourite thing, when he kisses my forehead. It makes me want to cry, every time. Happy tears. It's only happy with Baz.

"Baz,"

His eyes open again he looks right at me, smiling. I will never get sick of his smile. Or his laugh. Or his beautiful grey eyes. I will never get over this beautiful boy, who is always only an arms length away. I will never get over how lucky I am.

"I love you. More than anything. I'm sorry for being bad sometimes, but just know that without you I wouldn't be alive, probably. Okay? So I just- I love you I- I probably would have-" I start to cry and he shushes me, my name falling from his lips in a whisper.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he whispers.

"I'm sorry," I cry again.

"Simon it's okay. I promise. Just close your eyes. I can get my violin."

I shake my head. "Stay here," I whisper, my voice breaking. He nods and holds me tighter. "Can you sing?" That's the other thing he does. When my dreams are really bad or if I can't stop thinking, he brushes my hair with his gentle fingers and sings to me.

"Of course, baby boy."

I close my eyes and press my face into his neck. He starts singing.

"Wise men say, only fools rush in. But I can't help, falling in love with you." His voice is tender and soft and hits all of the right notes. I can already feel myself calming down.

I have never been so happy. I have never been so in love. I have never felt this safe.

It's all because of him.

My sweet boy.