Burn Bright

Geghhh

I've decided my new routine is hunting right after classes. Although there wasn't much in the Catacombs because of yesterday. So I took a bit longer than usual to get back to our room.
I open the door to our room and am surprised to see a really cute boy with his head stuck in my blankets, sleeping. I sighed and allowed myself to smile, knowing no one could see me.
I contemplated whether or not to slam the door and wake him. Oh, Simon. He was getting himself in really tough situations. Maybe he didn't realise someone had come and fixed his own bed so he went to mine.
He shifted, pulling a bundle of blanket closer to him. I decided to close the door quietly. I pulled off my shirt and replaced it with Snow's sweatshirt. If he was sleeping in my bed, I was wearing his clothes. I sit on the floor and watch him, my head between my knees.
Snow.
Simon Snow.
I never really imagined him being Simon Pitch. Now that I think about it, Simon Snow-Pitch kind of doesn't sound bad. I don't know why I'm allowing myself to think like this. But I rather like this kind of thinking.
I smile for about the third time that day. I really like Simon. I'm finally starting to like liking him too.
A/n does that make sense? He likes to like him? Yes. Yes it does.

There's a sudden knock on the door. Simon is startled awake.
"Fuck!" He exclaims and rolls off the bed, thudding to the floor. I giggle silently.
"Come in, Bunce!" But it's not Penelope who comes through the door.
"What are you doing here?" Snow asks. He stands and so do I.
"Simon I... I thought you might not have gotten my note."
"You're not welcome here, Wellbelove," I glare at her.
"I'm welcome if Simon says I am. Simon?" She looks expectantly at him. But he's frozen. "Well I just wanted to tell you I still believe in what I wrote. But I do miss you. I just think this is for the best-"
"Please leave before I throw you out, Agatha. I can't see you right now," Simon glares at my feet. I wiggle my toes under my socks. He blushes and starts to smile. That makes me happy. But then Simon looks up at Agatha and his little smile fades. Wellbelove looks pissed. She crushes one of the scones in her hand and throws the other one hard at Simons chest.
"Goodbye, Simon." Wellbelove slams the door and we're left in silence.
"Good riddance," I say. But my smirk quickly fades when I see Simon sitting on his bed. (Now he notices his bed?) He seems to be hyperventilating.
"Snow, calm-" but I stop myself. I know how much he hates when people say that. He gets up and punches the wall.
"Snow..." I say in a warning tone. He looks at me expectantly. "Crowley, I don't have a motivational speech for you. I just don't want a hole in the wall." He closes his eyes and sits back on his bed. Snow's tapping his foot. I go and lay on my bed.
"Snow, why were you sleeping in my bed?" I ask. I'm a curious person, stop judging. He looks up, his face flushed.
"I-well, I, uh... Why are you wearing my sweatshirt?" He narrows his eyes.
"I asked you first," I smirk.
"My bed was toasted." He's lying?
"Well my sweatshirt is somewhere in the Wavering Wood." I realise my mistake. Snow glares suspiciously at me.
"Why were you in the Wavering Wood?" He says slowly. I want to say 'none of your fucking business' but that's not very original. Instead I see his scone on the floor. I pick it up and throw it at him.
"Agh! What the hell, Baz?" I grin at him.
"Fuck off, Snow." Nothing like a good old scone-throwing at Simon Snow to brighten my spirits.

That night, I watch Snow in his bed. He's been staring at the ceiling for hours now. He sighs and turns towards me. Shit. I quickly shut my eyes and wait for him to look the other way. Then he whispers my name. I think I might be dreaming now.
"Baz," he whispers again. I roll away from Snow, my back facing him.
"Baz!" He says.
"Snow," I hiss back.
"Are you awake?" Snow is quiet again.
"No."
"Good, because I want to talk to you."
"I said no."
"It's about our being enemies." He ignores me.
"What about it, Snow?"
"I don't want to be anymore."
I open my eyes and look over my shoulder. I am so dreaming.
"What?" I ask meekly.
"Baz, I don't want to be enemies anymore. I'm really sick of fighting and being paranoid all the time. Why are we even like this? What's made us hate each other?"
"My family hates the Mage. The Mage is basically your foster father, so they hate you too. Snow, I have to hate you because I'm supposed to."
"But... What ever happened to people saying, 'make your own destiny?' Because I don't want you to hate me anymore. Am I insane to think we could be friends?"
"Yes! Snow, what you're saying is ridiculous. I'm sorry, but we can't decide to be friends and suddenly love each other. Life doesn't work like that. Not our lives, at least."
"It can. We can." He says this only loud enough that a vampire can hear it.
"What do you mean?" I say just as quiet. His eyes widen.
"Nothing. I mean nothing, Baz. I'm sorry I thought we were being nice to each other now. Sorry about thinking we have been becoming friends. I'll just... stop thinking."
There was silence after that. Being Simon's friend was an impossible feat. I imagine it being accomplished in some other dimension. Even if we could be friends, it would only make me want to kiss him more. Or kill him. Maybe I would improvise.