If You Must

All That We Are Is Gifted

Baz

After eating too much cake, drinking too much champagne (Simon and I are both lucid but giggly), and dancing until our feet hurt, Si and I decide to make our escape. Penny booked us a limo to our hotel for the night (we'll stay there for tonight and fly to France day after tomorrow), and we call it in. It should have all our bags and things in it already, so we don't have to run back home and grab them. I say goodbye to my father and Daphne one last time, and then Simon and I say goodbye to Bunce and Micah. To my absolute astonishment, Bunce, after tackling Simon in a bear hug and kissing his cheek, kisses my cheek as well. I blink at her in surprise, a grin quirking up the corner of my lips.

"What on earth was that for?" I ask playfully, my voice so low that only she can hear. Penny flashes me a grateful smile.

"That's for being the best thing that's ever happened to Simon," She whispers in reply. Then, in a normal voice, she says to Simon and I, "We'll see you after the honeymoon, boys. Have fun!"

We thank her, then run up to the DJ to ask him to start our getaway song (which is Voulez-Vous by ABBA, obviously). People start to laugh and clap and wolf-whistle as SI and I dance our way out of the marquee.

And then, just like that, we're in the semi-dark quiet of the limo. Simon's cheeks and the tip of his nose are adorably rosy from the champagne, but other than giggling excessively, he's not acting drunk (believe me, I've seen drunk Simon. It takes a lot of alcohol to do it, but it happens occasionally; for a giant fluffball, Simon holds his liquor remarkably well). We hold hands, leaning every so often to kiss.

"Oh!" Exclaims Simon, breaking away from me unexpectedly. "I almost forgot. Your second gift for the night."

I watch him curiously as he reaches into a bag and pulls out a large, leather-bound sketchbook. He places it gently on my lap, watching my face intently to see my reaction. Not wanting to keep him waiting (or wanting to wait, period), I open the book.

I let loose a small gasp of surprise when I see the first page. It's a beautiful, intricately-detailed drawing of me, my eyes closed and my face resting on what must be Simon's shoulder. Written in gold ink are the words '365 reasons why I love you'. I turn the page to find another gorgeous drawing, this time of what can only be the back of my head, my face turned ever so slightly so you can see an ear and part of my cheek. 'Reason 1: your hair', states the gold writing. Completely in taken aback, I flip through every page, reading the reasons, studying the stunning charcoal drawings. Reason 2: you're an insanely good kisser... Reason 3: your voice (God, Baz, your voice)... Reason 4: your courage.... I read on and on, some of them making my eyes fill with tears, others making me laugh.

"Simon... did you draw these?" I ask, lightly running my fingers over one drawing of our entwined hands. They're so realistically drawn they could be a black and white photograph. Simon blushes, his already pink cheeks darkening.

"Yeah, I did," he says sheepishly, "Do you like it?" I continue to stare down at the pages, utterly awestruck. I hardly ever think about the fact that Simon can draw; He hardly ever sits still long enough to do it. But I've seen his doodles, on corners of napkins and on the backs of receipts. I'm always struck by how good they are, but even they pale in comparison to these. These belong in a museum, side by side with DaVinci's sketches.

"I do," I murmur, "I really, really do." I look up at him now, smiling from ear to ear. "Simon, this is amazing. Thank you."

Simon smiles, leaning in to kiss my jaw.

"You're welcome, Baz." I pull away this time, reaching into the bag beside me.

"I've got something for you, too," I say. Simon looks surprised, like he wasn't expecting a gift.

I pull out a much smaller book with a blue fabric cover the exact colour of Simon's eyes (I was in a fabric store for three hours searching for the right colour). It's a book of poems I wrote, each of them about a different moment with Simon. Big moments like the Crucible pulling us together, the first Elocution class we had together, the moment I first realised I had a crush on him, and the first time he kissed me, but smaller moments, too. Watching him sit on his kitchen counter while he watched a storm outside. The feeling of his head on my shoulder while we're curled up on our couch. The wild mess of curls that his hair becomes in the mornings. The way he breathes after he's had a nightmare.

Blue eyes flit back and forth, reading avidly. I watch him anxiously, hoping beyond hope that he likes the book. After a few moments, he sets it down, looking up at me. Before I can say anything, he wraps his arms around my neck, pulling me into a hug (Simon is the best hugger I've ever had the privilege of knowing).

"Thank you," he whispers into my shoulder. "Thank you." I wrap my arms around his waist, holding him.

"You're welcome, Simon."

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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH IT'S ALMOST DONEEEEEEEE HOLY SHITTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Two more chapters, guys! My game plan is to do a short (actually short this time, instead of planning to write a short fic and turning it into a 45 chapter beast) third fic that takes place sometime in the future (grown up Snowbaz, yay!). It'll probably end up being pure domestic fluff, but let's face it: that's what we all want with our lives. I'll post a chapter with the wedding playlist, as well as a chapter with news about the third fic once this one is finished.

If you're all nice enough to me I'll make the next chapter steamy :) (who am I kidding? I'll make it steamy anyway). Thank you all for sticking with this fic! I love all of you ;* .

-Lefty