Chapter 1

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Huge thanks to Simon_Snow for editing this, give her some love, and go follow her.

Simon's clumsy feet stumble up the long stretch of driveway, following the path that leads to the heavy doors of the Pitch manor. While the start of winter break brought excitement to his peers, it was only a reminder of how he had burned bridges with Agatha, how his best friends parents consider him a burden, and how his current boyfriend's biggest fear is people finding out they're a couple.

This isn't new though, every break he can remember, has been spent alone. This year was different however, not because the person that he was dating genuinely cared about him. No, this year he was 18, which meant he could go out, and leave his loneliness at the bottom of a very large bottle.

The plan was to go straight back to Watford after he left the pub, but his lonely intoxicated brain steered his legs and heart to the foot of the Pitch's driveway. His hands involuntary quiver, as the cold air seeps into his skin. The knocker falls heavily from his grasp, hitting the door with a loud clang. He feels a slight wave of nausea wash over him as the sound echoes loudly in his ears.

He can't remember making the decision to come here, but he's sure Baz will be happy to see him. He has a small feeling however that Baz's dad probably won't be as happy. Simon isn't very fond of Baz's dad and he's pretty sure the feeling is mutual. He's sharp edges and a hard personally much like his son, but Baz is different, he's special. Along with his sharp lines and harsh stares are gentle looks and loving smiles, the type that were meant for Simon and Simon alone. The type that told Simon that he loved him, even without words.

A startled looking old lady opens the door, obviously confused as to who could be knocking at this time of night. Simon figures she's the maid Baz tells him about sometimes. Her silver grey hair is pulled into a tight bun framing her soft features. She gives Simon a suspicious glare. Not letting him past the threshold until she hears an explanation. All that Simon provides is a lazy and slurred "Is Bazzy home?" his words coming out choppy.

The woman raises an eyebrow in response, which is met with a sloppy smile from Simon. The old women's eyes widen in surprise as she realizes who Simon is, she looks around nervously then motions for Simon to follow her. He stumbles inside clumsily, and follows her up the stairs. "This is Mr. Basilton's room" she says quietly over a thick accent, (German Simon thinks, but he's never been very good at telling accents apart).

"Thanks." He mumbles a little bit to loud, the old lady shoots him an alarmed stare, but leaves him there anyway.

Baz
I'm laying on my bed trying (and failing) to fall asleep. I'm cursing myself for not having any self control, Simon had somehow wandered into my thoughts. And if I'm to be truly honest, Simon is the only thing I've thought about since I've gotten home. He's the only person that can truly keep my attention. Everything else is so dull with Simon in the forefront. The world seems like nothing more than just a background, its soul purpose to amplify the vibrancy of Simon Snow.

These are the type of thoughts that are only uncovered when I'm alone. I think about Simon and nothing else, I'm thinking about everything that I want to do to him. Kissing him last night was so incredibly new! It was different and beautiful and scary. It wasn't just a quick peck on the lips or a whisper over my cheek. I'm trying to remember how this even worked out and I laugh bitterly at how much sooner we could have been doing this all along, rather than fighting like children.

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