If You Must

All That We Are Is Bored

Simon

We plot. And plot. And plot. For days on end, the only thing we do is lounge about Penny's flat, eating salt and vinegar crisps and drinking crap cider and planning out every minute detail of the wedding. Baz and Penny get really into it, but Micah and I mostly just sit around trying to launch wadded up paper napkins into empty take-away boxes.

We rule out holding the ceremony in a church (one of us happens to be a vampire), deciding instead to hold it on the green outside Baz's family's estate (well, the one estate I didn't accidentally steal all the magic from). We come up with a (rough) guest list, call a baker for a cake, a florist for flower arrangements (hydrangeas and these weird silvery plants I doubt actually exist in the wild).

One week of this turns into another. I sample fifty billion slices of cake (the one thing I can't complain about), smell a shit ton of cologne that all smells the same, and stare at exactly 27 different marquee fabrics before Baz and Penny decide on the first one we looked at. I accidentally whack Micah in the head with a spatula while 'sword fighting' with him (I'm armed with said spatula, Micah with a wooden spoon). Between plotting days, Baz and I go back out to the woods and test the limits of my magic until my arms shake and my brain feels like mush (I can sort of teleport, I can't time travel), my magic still refuses to go thin. Every night we fall exhausted into bed, sleeping as soon as our heads hit the pillows.

I'm bored out of my mind.

And Aleister Crolwey, I'm head over heels for Baz, but this is driving me insane.

Today, however, I find a way to entertain myself. I've decided to make Baz a wedding present, and it's gonna be pretty freaking awesome.