Carry On SnowBaz

Christmas (4)

Baz

Maybe I'm even a bigger disappointment in being a good boyfriend, than in being a dignified son. Because instead of rebuilding Simon after this awful dinner, I only cared about my own anger. I didn't saw him. How hurt he was. I made it even worse by screaming at him. Crowley, I nearly made him fall as I pushed him.

Maybe it's because I'm a vampire, but there was this moment when I just wanted to hurt everything and everyone around me. And this shouldn't happen. That must not happen. But I couldn't control it. It's rare that I'm in such a rage but these words from my father – or maybe even the words he didn't dare to say, made me furious. I knew he doesn't accept Simon and especially not as my boyfriend, but hearing him say that being with Simon is only to get under his skin...Well, that hits. It felt like all this rage which I had swallowed and hid over all the years he had hushed me, had risen to the surface and burst out. I couldn't hold it back.

Now all I feel is weariness. I have to lean against Simon, who barely can't stand either. His face is still flushed but at least he stopped crying. I'm not sure if I did. My face feels so numb, I'm afraid I can't speak anymore.

"We should go back in," Simon whispers. His lips are already blue. How long do we stand here like this?

"I presume," I mumble back, not able to say more. Simon wraps his left arm around my waist and shoves me into the right direction. I guess we look like two snowmen stomping through the storm because I can hardly see any of my black coat.

I know Simon is right. In this damn blizzard, it would be too dangerous to drive back to London. But it costs all my pride to go back into my father's house.

Vera looks very surprised and at the same time very relieved about our return.

"You're back?" she asks and wants to reach for our dripping coats, but I just ignore her and pull Simon – who stops at the middle of the rug – with me. I tramp over the wooden floor so it gets all covered with snow. I hear Vera complaining but I'm too tired to argue. She follows us upstairs, probably cleaning the floor behind us.

"I can show you your rooms," she says and guides us into a corridor to our left. I turn around – still holding Simon's hand – and look at her with one raised eyebrow. "Rooms?"

"Yes," she answers. "The one for Mr Snow's right here," she points at the door next to her, "and the one for you, Mr Pitch, is at the end of the corridor."

Simon's fingers cramps around mine and I take a deep breath. I'm too tired for all this shit. So, I just smile at Vera and pull Simon with me into my room. I shove him through the door and shut it behind us.

The room looks very similar to my old one in Hampshire. There is this huge bed with stupid gargoyles on it, a couch and a fireplace. And then there's also a small bathroom behind a second door. I hope there're no ghosts inside here.

Simon slips out of his muddy shoes and his wet coat and suit jacket, but I just shuffle to the bed and sit down on it. The leftover snow falls from my shoulders onto the blanket. I don't care.

"Merlin, it's so cold in here," Simon complains while he runs into the bathroom to take a towel. He rubs it over his head and tries to dry his hair. Now his curls look totally tousled. I like it better this way. He throws it to me, but I just let it rest in my hands and stare at it. The melting snow drops from my hair into my palms.

"Are you okay?" Simon asks softly and sits down next to me. I don't answer. I don't know why. I guess I just don't know what to say.

"Should we make a fire?" He glances to the fireplace, probably thinking about how to make a fire the Normal way. I could set it in a second but I can't get up right now. I can't even reach for my wand. I keep staring at my hands, watching the drops run down my fingers.