Please check out my new poetry book, and snowbaz one-shots <3
Baz's POV
My plans for tonight would honestly sweep Simon off his feet. Forget romantic, I have scones. I sneaked into the Dining Hall well after it closed, Cook Pritchard gave me the key. We are rather friendly. I knew her since I was born, really. Often, Mother would bring me to the kitchen to let me pick out snacks, and Cook Pritchard would quite frequently bake me spice cakes and cook me anything she knew I liked.
Our taste for refined cuisine formed a bond we both fostered. She gave me the keys to the kitchen because she knew I would skip meals, believing it was simply because I did not enjoy eating in front of others. We would often talk and pick out flavors together for the menu every month. My mother was quite fond of her, so being around her felt... strangely comforting.
I snap out of my thoughts as I prepare an actual feast for Simon that Cook Pritchard helped me with. I know, I'm the best soon-to-be- boyfriend.
Lighting a candle between the plates piled with breads, cheeses, fruits and of course, sour cherry scones, my heart fluttered. I felt like everything was coming together perfectly, and a slow smile played on my lips. If this night went according to plan, my violin wouldn't stay next to the table in its covers. I was determined to make this the most memorable night of Simon's life. Because it wasn't about to end in the kitchen either.
YOU ARE READING
Breathless...
أدب الهواة𝗦𝗶𝗺𝗼𝗻'𝘀 𝗣𝗢𝗩 He's simply looking at me. . And I'm drowning in those gray pools. His pupils visibly dilate. He leans into my touch, then surprisingly he moves a little to settle on my lap with his head lying on my chest. ...
