The Three Times Baz Almost Said I Love You (And The One Time He Did)

I Let Him

BAZ
Simon Snow is going to be the death of me. If I wasn't already sort of dead. He's doing that thing again were I can feel his magic as well as his eyes on me. It's driving me insane.

We are in Greek, the Minotaur droning about something I've known for longer than he's been teaching. I don't pay much attention.

Honestly, what else am I suppose to focus on? The Git is practically breathing down my neck. Half the class is pretty much done for because of the potency of magic rolling of Snow in waves. Crowley, I'm even drowning in it.

If I were to pick a pretty good time to push Snow, now would be it. I don't really want to though.

It's strange, how after years of fighting it becomes a habit to say something terrible even if you would never mean it. What do those words mean anyway if there is no true sincerity in them? The insistence and the sharpness left the words like a spell forgotten. I couldn't never hurt Snow, I really can't, the Anathema, but that doesn't mean I can't push him away. (Like down a couple stairs.) I find myself wishing for something different.

I want to turn to him and tell him to knock it off. To pull him into the hall, right out of class while everyone watches. To pull him aside and tell him to breathe. To relax and let it go. Maybe if I smooth some curls from his head and whisper calming words into his ear. If I run my hands down his back and let him rest into me. To let his head lull into my shoulder and tell me what's wrong. To let him, but I don't.

Instead I turn my head and sneer. "Calm the fuck down Snow before you explode and kill someone, like usual." Snow glares at me.

"You're plotting something, whatever it is, I'll find out." He says. He always thinks that, and I let him. I want to reach out and touch him. His magic is overwhelming and the room smells like smoke. The Minotaur has even started to stutter. I'm still looking at Snow. He looks like he will burst. It won't take much this time to push him over the edge. I'm tempted to kiss him, just to see if that would do it. If it would shock him enough that his magic destroys me. Instead a sneer more, I've gotten good at that over the years.

"Maybe I am, Snow, what's it matter to you? Maybe I'm plotting to kill you, or just to hang all your ugly school pants to the Mummers House wall with magic." I smirk. His magic grows stronger and I can feel him. It hurts. I don't want this. He shifts in his seat. From afar I can feel Wellbelove's eyes on us.

I think she likes me. It really isn't fair. She is with Simon, and Simon wants her. However she likes me, and I like Simon. Funny world, isn't it?

However in this instance, I couldn't give less of damn about her. I'm losing myself in blue eyes and moles, so many of them. I want to kiss every one. (Especially the one just on the base of his neck.)

I want to cool him off. He's like a flame, unpredictable and irresistible. I open my mouth, but the class gets dismissed and Snow abruptly stands. He practically storms out of the room wrenching his magic with him. I shiver and look down at my hands. That was too close. If he had stayed any longer, I could have told him 'I love you.' Wouldn't that be an utter disaster? But isn't that what Snow is, a Magnificent Disaster.