My Better Half (Sequel to My Cup of Tea)

Chapter Four

Penny's going to think that I'm having a fit because of everything Baz said to me. Like seeing him brought it all back.

The reason I'm having a fit is because I wasn't expecting to see him. I wasn't expecting to see him and then have all of those feelings come rushing back

Simon felt like a proper idiot as he struggled to get his breathing under control. This sort of thing had happened pretty frequently over the past year. Theoretically, he knew that he just had to try and clear his mind and take labored breaths. That was all easier said than done because every time he tried to clear his mind, he remembered that Baz was probably in the hallway or the next room over trying to see what was going on with his pathetic ex-boyfriend. He was probably plotting some scheme on how to embarrass Simon even further. 

As if he hadn't done a well enough job on his own. 

"Why are they here?"

Penny shrugged, sighed, and put her hand on his shoulder like she was trying to push her love into him. Like it would even help if she could. 

"Did you know? That--that they'd be here?" 

She shook her head. "I wouldn't have brought you if I had."

"Have they been at others? Parties? With you?"

She stood and offered him her hand. He took it. Phillipa rushed in with a fistful of paper towels. Simon opened his mouth to apologize but she waved him away like he didn't owe her an explanation or apology. It was nice, if he was being honest. Not feeling like there was just another person he had to apologize to. 

"I guess. I don't really interact with them, though. I think Basilton knows well enough to steer clear of me. I wasn't lying when I said I could run him through."

Simon couldn't help but let out a chuckle. 

What had he been expecting? 

Seeing Baz was certainly not something he'd expected, but his reaction seemed about right. Yeah, the panic attack was less than ideal, but what else could he have done? Just said a pleasant hello and pretend like the sight of him wasn't still breaking his heart after all this time? 

"We can go," Penny suggested from beside him. "We don't have to stay here."

He shook his head, feeling his body fill up with determination. "No," he said, probably too eagerly. He cleared his throat. "I just mean...well, I had to see him at some point, didn't I?" 

Part of him (a large part of him that took quite a lot of energy to tell to bugger off) wanted to go find Baz. He didn't want to yell at him or fight (which were usually his first reactions). He didn't want to snog him, either. Well, he did, but he knew that he shouldn't. That he couldn't. He just wanted to go find him for the sake of being around him. 

He'd had a lot of time to think about that night. He'd overanalyzed every moment, every word that Baz said, a thousand times over by now. He knew that he'd made the best choice––that breaking up with Baz was the decent thing to do for both their sakes––but it didn't make it the right choice. Any choice that ended with him losing Baz forever surely wasn't a good choice or even a decent choice. He'd fallen so helplessly in love with him. It was quick, too. When it was all over, Simon spent two weeks thoroughly convinced that it had been some strange dream turned nightmare that he'd just woken up from. 

The point was: he knew Baz. Knew his facial expressions (for the most part, when he wasn't being too guarded). Knew his heart. He knew that Baz didn't mean a single word that he'd said. If he told Penny that, she would've thrown a fit and called Simon thick. Maybe he was being rather thick, but he just couldn't bring himself to believe that Baz had meant any of those nasty things that he'd said that night. Simon certainly hadn't meant what he'd said about Baz's family. 

"Fine," Penny conceded with a sigh. "We'll stay. But, if that bastard sticks one toe out of line again––"

"It'll be fine," Simon assured her, leading the two of them into the living room where the party was in full-throttle. "I'll be fine. I'm not mad about it. Really." 

She raised an eyebrow at him like she didn't quite believe that he wouldn't go find Baz and deliver a good punch right in his (perfect) nose, so he just smiled at her. She dropped it, at least for the time being, and went off to fetch him another drink. 

He didn't mind being alone. It might've been good, in other circumstances, to catch up with old school mates. Instead, everyone was looking at him (probably whispering about him, too). He felt the tips of his ears get red but he kept his cool. He plopped down onto the old ruddy sofa and watched as people danced in front of him. If Penny were still nailed to his side, he might've offered her a dance. They probably would've made total fools of themselves, but it would've been fun because they'd be dancing. 

Simon hadn't danced in so long. 

"I'm sorry," a voice said from his side. He turned and saw Baz standing there, hands in his jeans pockets. He really did look sorry, so Simon smiled half-heartedly and gestured for him to sit. Baz looked at him, furrowing his brow in confusion, then sat down on the sofa. He sat as far as he could from Simon, but Simon didn't mind. He probably wouldn't have been able to stand being so close to him, anyway. 

"It's not your fault. Just my stupid body. I have trouble..." he waved his hands in the air, dismissing the thought. "Never mind."

Baz was quiet for a moment. "I can leave, if you want. I'm sure that Agatha will stay for a bit, but the least I can do––"

"You should stay," Simon said. "I mean, if you want."

Baz nodded. "Right."

Fucking hell, will it always be this awkward? Are all exes this uncomfortable sitting on the same bloody sofa after a whole year? 

"You look..."

Simon looked at him, his nose scrunched. "I look what?" 

"Good." 

Simon scoffed. "Really? I thought I looked a bit shit." 

Baz laughed in the way that Simon liked––a real laugh that made the edges of his eyes crinkle. "Fine, Snow. You do look a bit shit. Are you...are you okay?"

Simon shrugged. "Dunno. I'm alive, aren't I? Just been a hard year is all. I'm sure I'll manage. I've been through worse."

"If it makes you feel any better," Baz offered, scooting in a bit closer to Simon, "I've had a hard year, too."

Simon knit his brows together. "Why would that make me feel better?" 

"I don't know. I suppose I thought you might like to know that I'm hurting or something. That the fact that I'm in pain might ease your own. Help you sleep at night or something."

"What am I? A sadist? Christ, Baz. And you say I'm thick."

"So you're not happy? That I've been fucking miserable in this––" he leans in a bit closer, lowering his voice––"fake relationship with Wellbelove?"

He shrugged again. "No? I think I just feel sorry for you. Agatha, too."

Baz looked at him like he had just sprouted a second head. He was tempted to check to make sure he hadn't.

"I'll never understand you, Snow. You're just so damn good, aren't you?"

"What 'bout you? Are you happy that I'm miserable?"

"Fuck no. When I saw you earlier...it nearly broke my damn heart, if I'm being honest." He took a deep breath. "I could see your ribcage through your shirt and those bags under your eyes and something just broke inside of me. I still––"

"Simon," Penny said, suddenly back and with two full cups in her hands. She looked disappointed, but Simon didn't really mind. It was his decision, anyway. 

"I should probably go find Wellbelove," Baz said, standing. 

Simon looked up at him, silently begging him to stay, but Penny's daggers were obviously stronger. Baz looked back at Simon once, a sad smile on his face, and walked away.