The Key to My Heart (Or to Baz's Diary)

Heaven on Earth

Baz

You know that feeling, when your brain shuts off for a quick second? I'm pretty sure I failed to act as a functioning human being when I agreed to dance with Simon.

The fact that it's Simon makes it slightly less dignity-tarnishing than if I were to be dancing with anyone else in this world.

"Do you have any  sort of experience with dancing, Baz?" Simon questions.

"Crowley, I told you I couldn't dance to save my life, Snow." I make a move to turn back towards the kitchen counter and finish cooking our breakfast. Simon grabs my wrist before I can get far, then immediately loosens his grip.

"Sorry," He says. I stare at him blankly. I guess we've gone from death attempts to apologies.

"For what?" Now Simon gives me a blank stare, like he himself wasn't exactly sure what to be sorry for.

"No, I just- shouldn't have grabbed at you. If you don't-"

"I'm just going to pull our breakfast off of the stove, Snow, you'll get to see me humiliate myself soon enough, but I for one think we should keep the food out of it."

I catch Simon's smile in the corner of my vision. "Alrighty then."

I grab four plates out of the cupboards and divide the omelette into as equal portions as I'm able, before setting them onto the kitchen table and returning to where Simon waits. Fiona and father won't complain about cold eggs- they're not in the house anyways, and I'm going to guess that Simon couldn't care less.

"So," Simon raps his knuckles against the counter. "With your family rolling in all this cash," He waves his hand around, gesturing at the mansion in general. "You're telling me that you've never had to go to any weddings, baby showers, reunions or even fucking business events where you're supposed  to dance?"

"I find good company with the food tables near the back," I say.

Simon gives me a pitying look, which immediately turns itself into a smile. "I can't exactly knock you for that, I'll admit. I'd expect the food at those events to be nothing if not spectacular. Especially it's coming from someone with enough money to swim in."

Simon walks over and puts a hand on my shoulder. The gesture came as a surprise, and my first instinct was to tense, Simon registers the feel of my shoulder going stiff under his grip and meets my eyes. We stare at each other for a moment in silence, until Simon squeezes my shoulder reassuringly.

"It's okay," He mutters, and my heart swells at how lucky I am to have gotten even this much from the boy I love.

Simon visibly hesitates for a moment, clearly mustering up the words to say to me. It's beyond me why Simon would hesitate, or even care if anything he says would hurt me.

"Um-" Simon's gaze flicks to the cupboards behind me. "Hasn't your father ever asked you to dance with-" His voice trails off near the end.

"You can say it, Simon. Don't be afraid to hurt me." Simon flinches slightly at that. My heart races slightly at the fact that he would  flinch at that.

"Well, since your family didn't know about your preferences before yesterday, didn't they ever expect you to ask a girl to dance with you some time or another?"

Surprisingly, the question doesn't affect me all that much. "My father could probably tell that I never liked dancing around people, so he's never voiced any of those concerns out loud, though he was no doubt thinking I should ask a girl out."

Simon goes quiet for a moment, the music still playing softly in the background. "Let's start."

Simon