Herbs and Spices // snowbaz

gooey eyes and violins

7th year Watford

Playing the violin is a lot like flying (Or what Baz imagined flying is like, the closest he can get is Up, Up and Away, and he knew in his heart it just wasn't the same.) The violin, the rise and swell of the music, cresting against his chest, broken waves all through his body; it took him higher than anything else. Baz's eyes fluttered shut and his breath became long and tranquil as he continued to play, the music soaring around him.

He hadn't played much recently, with the exception of school holidays, but he was nearing the end of his high school career, and an escape from school, studying... and the constant thought of Snow, was what he needed. And what he obtained when he nestled the wooden frame of the violin where it pushed into his collarbone and became an extension of himself, he found that escape. Playing it was one of the only circumstances where he could feel satisfied in his and Snow's shared room, otherwise, he felt too constricted under the smell of good intentions and smoke, and under the ever-present gaze of Snow himself. 

Baz continued to play, his arm and fingers moving without him being aware of it, his awareness retreating inwards, intent on his own thoughts and blocking out everything that existed around him in the world; until the door to their dorm slammed shut. He continued to play, even though he could now really smell smoke, the scent that followed Simon Snow ever damn place he went.

"You're playing the violin?"

"Do you have to speak right now?" Baz's voice came out mumbled as his jaw rested against the body of the violin but his playing didn't falter, "Like, honestly?"

"Sorry," Snow spoke softly, and Baz almost didn't catch him above the sound of his own playing, "I just was surprised is all." 

"That's the default emotion for you, isn't it Snow?" Baz sneered, deciding to be done practising for the day, as he held the violin in his hand and then rested it back in its case.

"Sometimes," Simon spoke thoughtfully, taking Baz's words seriously, and Baz laughed, forgetting for a moment to pretend that he hated him. 

Baz turned to face his bed and slid off the jacket he had been wearing, looking up to meet Snow's already watching eyes. The two boys stared at each other until Baz raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Simon turned away, a blush rising up from his chest and coating his cheeks as he cleared his throat. He was off his game a bit, after pausing for a moment outside of the closed dorm room door, and had heard, no felt, the music through the door. Felt it in his body, in his soul. Felt it invading every sense and, oh God, it beat inside of him. Like a separate entity that longed to burst free of his skin, the music had a name, it had a feeling, but Simon couldn't put a name to it. 

He had pushed open the door, overcome with everything and his eyes had settled on Baz. Baz, playing the violin so beautifully, his eyes shut and his face still and free of any emotion (which was the first time Simon had ever witnessed that.)
'I have never seen anything so beautiful,' he thought immediately, and then shook his head, dismissing the thought as swiftly as it came. Baz wasn't beautiful, he was lethal, he was dangerous, he was his enemy. 

Well, not entirely. One of his enemies maybe, he was a pain in Simon's ass, that's what he was. He wasn't the Humdrum, though, he wasn't out to see the demise of Mages, just the demise of Simon. He was graceful in his anger, in his self-righteousness, in his arrogance. But Simon, he didn't find him beautiful... he couldn't.

"Snow, are you just going to stand there? Or, for once, are you going to do something beneficial to your life and others lives, like, I don't know, get out of the fucking doorway?"

Baz was sneering at Simon, inwardly laughing at the spaced out boy, who hadn't entirely looked away from him since he walked into the dorm. He had known his roommate didn't know he played the violin, but if he knew it would make him this dazed, he would've practised in the room much earlier.

Simon coughed, stammered out, "Y-yeah, I suppose I should do that," and then walked to his bed and sat down, sliding his blazer off and setting it behind him, his expression still obviously unnerved.

"Crowley, Snow, are you unnerved?" 

"Slightly."

"Aleister almighty, I never thought I'd see the day."

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just a short lil chapter about violin!baz and swooning!simon

also kind of inspired by fangirl (which I've read twice in the last week - as well as like a billion times before that - it's one of my FAV BOOKS)

anyway here it is, I like it, let me know what you think! thank you for reading!!!!!