Rosebud Boys (Snowbaz fanfic)

Monster

The dance is perfect! The hall is decorated with purple and blue curtains and streamers. Everything about it is well....magical. When you walk in you can feel it. The thick, pulsating magic. The air is heavy with it. It give you this feeling in your chest like hundreds of tiny bubbles being popped.I never want to leave.

There are thousands of tiny sparkles in the air. They float and twinkle like tiny stars. This was probably Agatha's idea. She helps to organize the dance.

Agatha wraps her arm around mine, and our hands intertwine. She smiles at me. Her red dress is shimmering under the magic lights. It's strapless and shimmery, and fits her perfectly. She is wearing heels that make her almost the same height as me. She is wearing makeup, although truthfully she doesn't need any.
"Come on!" she yells over the music. She grabs my hand and drags me out to the middle of the dance floor.
Looking around, most people have their arms around each other's shoulders and are awkwardly swaying. Agatha, however, is different. She places my hands at her waist and puts hers on my shoulders.
I feel immediately flustered. My face flushes bright red. What does she want me to do?
She looks into my eyes. She starts to move in time to the music, taking me with her.
The way she moves is so natural, her hair swishing, her hips swaying, her shoulders moving. She is beautiful. She is wonderful. I'm so damn lucky. She presses her forehead against mine and I start to join her hypnotic sway and her mesmerizing movements.

All eyes in the room are on us. On our hips, our dance our chemistry. It feels like we've been dancing forever when the song ends. I take her hand and we walk over to where her friends are. They're all attractive, but none of them compare to her. She is undoubtedly the prettiest. She starts talking to them and I decide to give her some time. I don't know her friends all that well. The way she talks to them it's clear she is in control, she knows how to make anyone follow her.

"Hey, Agatha, I'm going to get us some drinks." She turns to me for a moment and nods. The whole way to the snack bar I feel like I'm floating on air. It seems like a small gust of wind could blow me upwards towards the sky.

I head back to Agatha, 2 drinks in my hand. I'm walking very slowly so as not to spill them. I'm quite a klutz. Tonight, though, I'm dressed in an expensive suit so I'm determined not to spill. But I'm still extremely nervous and my hands so shaky that tiny bits of punch are splashing onto the floor.

I look around for Agatha. She's not standing by her friends. She's not even in the room. I finally spot her standing in the doorway to the dance.

She looks at me but her smile is different this time. It look sad, it looks like a pity smile. How long was I gone? What happened when I got the drinks?

I head over to her. When I arrive she is looking up towards the sky, it's a beautiful royal purple, the fluffy clouds roll lazily by and are tainted a rosy light pink. Watford is bathed in golden light. It looks, well, magic.

"Is everything all right?" I ask. She doesn't turn around. Instead she sighs.
"Have you ever had an idea that felt so right, but once it became real, seemed like a mistake?" Agatha still hasn't looked at me yet. What does she mean? What does she want? If she would only tell me I would give it to her, I would give her the stars, every tiny twinkling bulb I would give to her. I would reach up to the skies and fall and fall and fall until her wish was fulfilled. She would only have to ask.

"Simon..." she says turning around to look at me. "This won't work."
"What do you mean?" I respond. I'm so confused. Why is she so sullen all of a sudden?
"I mean us." She sighs. "I-I...." she sighs again. "There's another-"
"Another what!?" I yell a little too loud, some people turn. I don't care.
"It's him that I want, not you." She says sadly, her gaze fixed on her shoes.
"Him who!?" I yell through watery eyes. The drinks in my hand are shaking.
Then she whispers a name. That name. His name. His horrible awful terrible name.
"Baz." she murmurs, her lips quivering.
"No..." I whisper.
The drinks fall from my hand. Everything is moving so slow. The drinks, her hands, my hands, shaking, trembling.
Agatha goes to put her hand on my shoulder but I pull away. I don't need her pity.
The drinks hit the floor, spilling everywhere, her shoes, my shoes, the stone walkway splattered with red. For a moment, it could have been mistaken for blood.
"I-I-," I run, I don't look back, and I certainly won't miss that dance. I don't know where I'll go. I run and I cry. Thick, wet, heavy tears.

It feels like I've been running for hours when I feel a person brush against my shoulder. I turn to see who is is. And I see that it's not a person at all. It's a monster. It's him.
"Snow?" he says, confused.
"Get away." I growl through gritted teeth. It's all his fault. Every inconvenience. Every last thing.
"What's happened to you? Where's Wellbelove?"
"As if you don't know," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
"I can't understand when you mumble, Snow."
"It's all your fault!" I yell. He looks surprised. "It's all you!"
"Snow?" he whispers, he sounds even more confused, he sounds scared.
"Just because your life is pathetic and miserable doesn't mean that you have to ruin everyone else's, you-" I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. My hands have subconsciously formed fists.
"There's no need for that." He narrows his eyes.
"No need for what?!" I'm practically screaming. I want him to shut up. I want him to care about somebody other than himself.
"You ruin everything that is good. You have tried to end my life more than once! And now you have ruined everything that I love. I loved Agatha and you took her from me." I am screaming now. I can feel the heat under my feet, in my hands, on my face.
Baz looks cracked, on more hit and he will shatter.
"You. Are. A. Monster." I say. I speak these words with every fiber of my being.
He starts to cry, tears form in his grey eyes.
"You don't mean it." He whispers to himself. He is like glass. Fragile, so easy to break.
"Yes I do." I mean it with every muscle, every bone, every memory of him.
He sinks to the ground, his knees bucking beneath him. His hands, his knees, his feet, they are all scorched. Fuck. I'm trying so hard to feel something- anything as he sit in the grass and cries. I'm hurting him, and the worst part is I don't even care.

Is this what it feels like to be him? To torture everyone around you. It feels powerful. I feel powerful. But not in a good way. It's nothing like the power I've gotten used to. This power feels heavy and dangerous, like a sword tipped with poison. It also feels incredibly lonely.
Is this what it's like to be him? Is this how he feels all the time? How is he able to continue through every day and keep up his vicious attitude?
I look down at him. His face is buried into his hands. His hair is a tangled mess and he's all dirty. His burnt knees are covered in dirt. It must sting, I want-

I don't know what I want.

I want to push him into the dirt with my fiery hands. I want him to burn. I want to feel his shoulders scorch as I push him deeper and deeper, just like he pushed me.

I also want to help him up. Brush off his pants tend to his burns- I......I.....

I can't.

I can't be thinking this! Not about him. I should be with Agatha, I should be dancing. I should be talking about second dates. But instead I'm with Baz, I'm thinking thoughts that I shouldn't be. I'm becoming a monster.

I can't bring my self to help him up, to apologize like any other person would. Like I should.

I back away slowly. My steps staggering backward towards the fields, away from Baz. From this monster, from this boy.
That's what he is. He's a boy, a child. A broken child.
A child abandoned by the world.
"I-I" I'm stuttering, I falling, sinking deeper into the mess I made for myself, the mess that he made for me. The mess we made together.
"I have to go." I take one step back and look at him. He's in a jumbled heap on the ground and he's looking up at me. I feel like I'm seeing him for the first time. Not the popular smart-arse, not the bully. I see him. I see Baz. I shoot one last glance at him and then I run. I run towards the fields.
I run towards help.

I run away from my thoughts. My shuddering haunting thoughts. The thoughts that could destroy me, my image, my ability to be Simon Snow, the Chosen One.