Breathless...

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗨𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗣𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗽𝘁.𝟭

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Baz's POV

There's a harsh knock on the oak door. I look up from Niall's bed. The knocking turns to banging. How fucking creepy. Its 9am on a Tuesday, everyone should be in classes. And if it's Niall or Rhys, they would enter without question.

"Who is it." I sneer, not really posing it as a question, but more as a 'fuck off'.

"Basilton! Get the door, it's me." A girl's voice, coupled with the smell of sage wafting in the air, and rushing blood. Penelope Bunce. She's the only girl who can enter Mummers House.

"What ever are you doing here, Bunce?"  I want to know. She only ever comes to the top of the tower—to the suite Simon and I share. It's more risky to get caught here.

"Baz, just get out!" Penelope commands.

"Oh I'm just quaking in fear, Bunce." I reply. She hisses my name again. I sigh, rolling my eyes.
Although I would love to stay in bed—even if it is Niall's—all day long, I swing my legs over, knowing that she would probably magick the room open. I get up, slipping on a shirt and open the door, stepping out before her.

Penelope's POV

He's deathly pale. And he's looming. It's typical Baz, but it's worse today. Even his usually meticulously-ironed shirt has crinkles today. Did he grow even taller during the past two weeks he spent in hiding?
            As he glares at me, a half-arsed glare, I'm a little disconcerted. (Baz Pitch never does anything half-arsed. Especially glaring and sneering.) I really hope Simon's plan works, whatever the hell his plan is. It hurts seeing Basil like this. His grey eyes are sad and droopy. His high Egyptian cheekbones more prominent than ever. Even his jaw is sharper. He looks stunning, but I don't think he's eaten properly since the day he saw Simon and Agatha kiss. I don't think he's eaten at all.
              This vampire though, he is so strange. He moves as gracefully as ever, feet light as a feather, despite all his emotional turmoil. Not a slouch, but catlike balance instead. And every little thing about him is so sophisticated. I suppose it could be alluring. His grey ocean eyes, the glossy black hair, even his pout. Maybe Simon was onto something when he said it wasn't normal to be so attractive. Undeniably beautiful. With features so sharp and captivating. Too sharp for me. He's all edges—cheekbones, jawline, the perfect slender nose. But I think Simon likes it.
When I look up into his narrowed eyes and ever present sneer . . . I can't help but take his wrist. And then I can't let go, because despite how calm he's acting, Baz seems to be putting the 'dead' in undead. His porcelain skin is glowing like the inside of a shell. Like an actual translucent ghost. As if he'll disappear if I so much as blink. It feels like he's light years away already. . .

Baz's POV

"Aren't you demanding, your royal highness." I deadpan, looking down into her fierce brown eyes. Aleister Crowley. Her intensity makes my head throb. I sigh deeply, massaging my temple and pouting. I'm such a drama queen.

"Shut up, Basil, we all know who the real princess here is."  True, true.

"And Crowley knows how long you've been hiding in there! We're going out." She says sternly, holding my wrist tighter.

"Penelope, I'm gay. No amount of hand holding will change that," I say, shaking the wrist with her hand attached. Penny rolls her eyes at me, and I snicker, nudging her shoulder playfully. Then she pinches my bicep. I don't feel it, but I sneer regardless. Only for a second though.