Chosen~ Snowbaz

Always Come Home: Part 2

Simon

Baz is stroking my hair absentmindedly, curling it in his fingers and I sigh contentedly. 

"G'morning."

He tenses, tearing his hand away with alarming speed. Clearly, he didn't realize I was awake. 

"Sorry, I—"

"No, it's fine. I... I like it, actually."

I feel him sigh heavily. "Snow, we need to talk about this."

"Talk about what?" I lift my head off his chest and look at him. He gestures between us. 

"This, Simon. The sleeping thing."

"I don't see why. I like it. I sleep better when it's with you." 

His breath catches in his throat, even though he makes an effort to hide it. "Well, it needs to stop."

"No, it doesn't." 

"Why? You hate me."

"No, you hate me." This is really just another of our petty arguments, but it feels different, somehow. 

"Trust me, I don't." He barely says it, and I'm sure I've misheard. 

"What?"

"Nothing." 

"S'not nothing. You said you don't hate me. That's the opposite of nothing, Baz." 

"Why do you even care?" Is he... crying?

"Because this changes everything!"

He takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself, and wipes his eyes on his sleeve. "I don't see how, Snow."

"You called me Simon before." 

"I didn't."

He did. 

Baz

I did. 

 "You called me Simon. You said you don't hate me. Do you know how hard it is to pretend I don't want this?"

Want what?

"You don't know what you want! You don't know anything!" 

"I know more than you do!"

"Oh, really, Snow? Because I think I know too damn much. I know that you just hurt everyone you care about and everyone you don't. I know you think you're entitled to every fucking thing you think you want. I know you only care about the people who benefit you. I know that you don't deserve anything  from me, but I gave you everything anyway! I know that I have been so stupidly in love with you for the past four years that it hurts, and I know that nothing I ever  do will be enough for you. And I know that when I leave this room, you'll simply stand there, pretending nothing I just told you is true. But it is, Snow! Every fucking word I said was true! Are you happy? Are you proud of breaking my heart? Do you hate me now?" 

I run out of the room before I start crying again—or worse, tell him anything more. I don't know where I'm going, just that I have to get out of there. 

I find myself in the Wavering Wood, right where Snow and I fought that chimera. I try to avoid him, so I go to the place of one of our most momentous encounters. I appreciate the irony, subconsciousness. 

I sit there against a tree for Crowley knows how long, crying my eyes out, not moving until I hear a voice behind me. 

Snow's voice. 

"Baz?" He calls out. "Baz, are you here?" 

"No." 

His head pokes out from behind a bush, relief apparent on his expression. "There you are! I've been looking for you for ages." 

"Fuck off," I say. Eloquent, I know. But that's my specialty. 

"I'm not going to until I get some answers."

"You'll be here for a while." 

After a pause, he answers, and I swear I can hear the smirk in his voice. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" 

"You don't know what I want." My hands curl into fists. "You don't know anything about me." 

Simon

"I know more than you'd expect," I say. "And I was going to tell you earlier, but you didn't give me much of a chance, did you?"

He doesn't respond. 

"Let me tell you what I know. I know that you're the smartest in the school, Baz, and I know that you aren't afraid to show it. I know that you're strong—both inside and out—and that you hardly ever let anyone in. You're brave, and you're witty, and you like salt and vinegar crisps best. You're secretive and sarcastic and a flirty drunk. I know you're a vampire, but you're not a monster. You're a bully, and a snob, and a complete arsehole, but you are not a monster. I know that. And now I know that you're in love with me—which is, I'll admit, a bit of a surprise, but a nice one. And—" 

"Sorry," he interrupts, "But what was that last one?"

"That you're in love with me?"

"I know that. But what did you say?"

"That's it's a surprise?"

"Be honest with me, Snow. What did you say?"

I takes a breath. "That I like it. I like that you love me."

When he laughs, the sound is harsh and broken. "You like that I love you."

"Yeah."

"You like that you can defeat me easily, just by breaking my heart? You like that I won't fight back? What do you like about it, Snow? Be specific." 

"I like," I say, stepping into his line of vision, "That you won't be able to tell me you hate me anymore. I like that I can wake up in your arms without worrying 'this is the morning he's going to laugh in my face and deck me and throw me out on my arse.' I like that I can finally run my fingers through your hair whenever I want to." I've been getting closer and closer to him the entire times I've been talking, and now we're so close we're breathing each other's air, his back up against the tree. "I like that I can do this."

And I kiss him. 

He lets out a noise of surprise when our lips meet. It's messy at first—our teeth crash, our noses bump, and our cheeks stick together from the tears on his face. But it's perfect. 

Because it's us.