Breathless...

𝗦𝗲𝗮 𝗼𝗳 𝗦𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄𝘀

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Baz's POV (almost a week after Give up, blue)

Simon Snow's big blue eyes lock onto mine when he goes to sit next to Bunce for breakfast. I haven't seen him in so long (because I've been sleeping in the Catacombs ever since it happened. I've been running away from him). Suppressed longing emerges in those bright, blue orbs—ripping open my old wounds and tearing up new ones in its intense, blue wake.

            The waves of pain wash over me, for the millionth time. Not this week, not this day, but this very hour. 

             I'm drowning in it. Drowning in the ache. Until I reach the bottom of a fucking sea of sorrows, and all its weight is squeezing the very life out of my undead body. I feel it every time I think of bronze curls and blue eyes. 

             I'm dragged from the shores of sanity. An ocean of longing coming crashing down on me, every time, echoes of broken waves reverberating through my skull. Suppressed, numb—with all the pressure contorting my ribs into themselves, choking my heart. 

             I know everyone can tell. My grey eyes have never been this dull, my shoulders have never sagged, my hair has never lost its luster. I never missed classes, never got lost in my head, never slept in the Catacombs more than twice a week.

            That all changed the day I caught Simon Snow kissing Agatha. His fucking mouth on hers. He was mine. He fucking promised. He said he loved me. I knew he could never feel that way about me. I knew it—but fuck, if my heart wasn't howling in pain. Yelping for help. Wallowing, curling up in its misery

             Somehow I gulp down tea, occasionally forcing a laugh at Dev's ridiculous jokes. Niall has been staring harder at me. Constantly looking after me, getting me breakfast, pouring my tea. It's thoughtful, but also very irritating. I hate feeling weak. And I hate their pity.

             Leaving the Dining Hall, I head to the Catacombs to hunt. After I've fed enough, and released all my forlorn insanity on the rats; I rush out. I know if I don't, rats will probably go extinct in Watford. 

             I even skip Magick Words. Who cares? Crowley knows I'm too smart for the class anyway. I'll remain ahead, perhaps even ahead of Bunce, regardless of how many times I miss lessons. 

            I figure a walk in the Lawn isn't a bad idea, maybe I can even hunt a unicorn near the Yew Trees. (I rarely kill them, Merlin knows they're mystical.) That is if the nymphs don't get in my way. . . It's illegal to kill a unicorn—even considered an act of evil. 

           Then again, I'm a vampire. I'm the epitome of evil.