Carry On SnowBaz

Snowday (4)

Penelope

I'm too nervous to sit down, so I wander around the kitchen and wash cups and plates which are already clean. I remove a few clothes from chairs and the floor and bring them to their right places.

I don't want to eavesdrop on them, but I stop several times in front of Simon's room and try to listen. I only hear Baz's voice. He sounds so desperate. I hope Simon's listening to him. He has to.

I don't know how much time has passed when the door finally opens. Baz shoves Simon over the doorway. He's still in his pyjamas and his face looks flushed. (In view of the fact that there is a wet spot on Baz's shoulder: He cried. A lot.)

"Do you want to eat breakfast or take a shower first?" Baz asks him with one hand on his shoulder, with the other one he carries the tray.

"Shower," Simon mutters. He glances at me for a second, then looks away like an ashamed kid. He clears his throat and disappears into the bathroom. Baz exhales.

"How did it go?" I ask him.

"Well, we talked," Baz answers and rubs his chin. "And I guess the worst is over. But...I don't know." He falls on a chair next to the kitchen table. He places the tray with the scones on it and takes one of them.

"You got him out of his room," I say and sit down on a chair next to him. "That's at least something."

"Yeah." He bites into the scone and I can see his fangs. It's always a bit disturbing - but I get used to it.

"And now?" I grip for a scone, too. "What are we gonna do now?"

Baz shrugs. "Shove a few scones into him and then get out of this sticky flat."

"And you think this will work?"

"It has to. I won't let him play grumpy all day."

"Maybe I have an idea," I say chewing.

Simon

The cold water makes me feel way better. It makes me feel like a human being again. When I finished the shower, I get back into my pyjama. (Because I forgot to take new clothes.) (And I don't feel like leaving bed today.)

I stare into the mirror at my reflection. I really look bad. Like I haven't slept for days and cried for hours. (What I can't really deny.)

After Penny's visit, everything just got worse. She interrupted my list which normally helps me out of this downward spiral. And after she was gone, I forgot about it. Instead, I started thinking again. And worked myself completely up into all my doubts. I don't want to do this. I hate it. I especially hate to doubt Baz. And I know how much he hates it. And it isn't fair what I do to him. Because he gives me no reason to doubt his feelings for me. Quite the contrary. But I do it anyway. I can't really stop it. Just like I can't stop thinking about myself as the supervillain. The fallen supervillain.

I take my toothbrush and start to clean my teeth. But I more chew on it than I brush.

Baz held me until no tear was left. He kept assuring me that it's okay. That I'll be okay. And I believed him. At least for the moment. Because I know I will be okay. It's every time like this. After a bit of time passed, I'm fine again. These strong feelings - the fear, the doubt and the guilt - are gone. Like they never existed.

I'm sitting on the edge of the bathtub, still brushing my teeth (even when there's no more toothpaste left) and count the tiles on the floor to distract me from my uprising thoughts. But I have to start all over again because they are so tiny. When I'm at 73 the third time, Baz tears the door open. I wince and nearly choke on the toothbrush.