Breathless...

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Baz's POV

I didn't bother returning to Mummers last night.

               I couldn't return. If I did Snow would immediately start badgering me with not only his endless questions, but also his inane accusations—paired with those big blue eyes shooting daggers at me. . . I just couldn't take it. When he looks at me, my breath catches, my lips twitch in a rare smile. . . and then I remember every flaw that keeps him from loving me.

                I remember that I'm his nemesis. And that is all I'll ever be to him. That I'm just an extra in the Simon Snow show—I don't really matter, it's all about the Chosen One. Coming from the most powerful family doesn't change the truth. I will only die in the end. He'll kill me in the end. And I will let him, after all, what do I have to live for? When the love of my life wants to end me?

               I remember that I'm a monster. And Simon Snow is the bloody golden boy. . . he will never be mine.

               "What the fuck could I even be plotting, Simon?!" I yelled in the dark, collapsing against the wall opposite my mother's grave. Tossing my cigarette somewhere, and burying my head between my knees, I felt a familiar sting in my eyes. . . .

               This wasn't the first night I spent crying over Simon's stupid bronze curls, his mind-numbing blue eyes, and his unmatched hatred for me.

                And this wouldn't be the last.

Next morning

Dev and Niall follow me up to Mummers house, laughing about some Gareth's new haircut. We ditched breakfast because I don't have the guts to come out in the middle of the dining hall, especially not with Snow only a few feet away, but they don't need to know that, so I simply tell them there was something I needed to confess, with a mischievous smirk hiding the creeping anxiety.

             Earlier in fifth year in order to avoid Snow, who had started shamelessly stalking me, (I wonder why I love him, too) I'd started spending more time with those two and found them to be surprisingly good company, occasionally. We grew closer—at least as close as I can get to anyone—and I found out that Niall has been struggling with his family, and Dev has too many vain sisters. It feels a little less lonely with them, even though I tell them next to nothing about my life, about what I really am.

             Dev slips into the chair in front of Snow's desk—I nearly tell him to stay away from his side of the room simply because Simon Snow is sacred, but I bite my tongue, holding back, while Niall lays beside me on my bed, looking up at me intently, waiting for the mysterious news.

             "So. . . ," I start, feeling my throat dry up, "I'm gay," I let out, holding my breath, waiting for the alarm and homophobia. However, Niall jumps out of my bed, somehow lifting me in his arms at the same time—

             "AAAAAAHHH, NIALL PUT ME DOWN BEFORE I TAKE YOUR LIFE!!" His sudden burst of energy surprises me, and I cannot slip out of his grip; I continue shrieking as Niall spins me around and I reflexively wrap my legs around his waist, while he laughs at me!! That fucker. And, of course Dev is completely losing his shit, rolling on the floor shaking with laughter.

             "CROWLEY, NIALL, WHO KNEW BAZ PITCH COULD SHRIEK?!" Dev howls, still laughing. Fucker number two.

              "Niall, I'm getting dizzy!" I lie, spinning my head for good measure, chuckling myself. But I can't help picturing my legs tangled around Snow instead, and feel my face fall a little, but force a smile for my friends' sakes, after all their reactions are better than Father's. And better than I could've hoped for.

               Niall's arms still hold me up when Snow bursts into our room. And I swear, the entire World of Mages must be plotting against me. . . .

               His eyes widen at Dev who is still on the floor, his grin now replaced with a blank expression; and then his piercing blue gaze trails to Niall's arm under my arse supporting my weight, and my legs wrapped around his waist.

               Snow is shocked to say the least, and suddenly I feel very small and vulnerable. He always makes me feel that way. And maybe it's why I hurt him. I stop smiling and Niall puts me down noticing my discomfort. "Love you, Baz," Dev says, giving me a sly wink right before walking out of the room. My eyes are almost torn from Snow though when Niall pecks my cheek right before following Dev, leaving me to stand there awkwardly in front of a gaping Chosen One. Crowley, this boy. . .

               Snow visibly gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down—it's an entire bloody show—while my sneer snaps into place, although it feels strange to be hostile towards him after he just witnessed such a private moment.

              "So, you're gay?" He asks slowly. His blue eyes looking anywhere but me.

               I wish I could say I've gotten used to the disgust in his eyes, and the distance between us. . . but staying true and consistent with my weak and worthless self, resisting the urge to engage with him is futile. Every time.

              "Yes, Snow, I'm gay." I whisper, looking down at my feet, figuring there's no way to deny it now. Awaiting the mocking. Waiting for more disgust.

              "Oh—is Niall your. . ?" His head snaps up so suddenly, soft bronze curls bouncing around, and (extra)ordinary blue eyes burning holes through me, "boyfriend?" Simon's voice dips so low, I wouldn't have heard him without my heightened vampire senses.

              "No, Snow. . . why would you think that?" I surprise myself with genuine curiosity at his question. Why is he suddenly so interested?

               Simon just shrugs, it's quite irritating, and yet I want to swoon. Crowley, am I pathetic.

                The Chosen One suddenly walks towards me and I feel my eyebrow raise, it usually drives Snow up a wall, (one of the simple pleasures of life) since he can't raise an eyebrow. But it doesn't seem to achieve its purpose. Instead of frowning, he steps closer until he has to look up at me; my height also drives him up a wall, not in the way I'd like it to though. Never in that way.

                 I try to plaster on a sneer but he's so, so close. My breath hitches, my body betraying my mind, craving Simon's calloused hands on every inch of me. Then a golden finger reaches up and tucks a strand of my luscious, black waves (yes, I'm cocky about my perfect hair) behind my ear, what?