Breathless...

𝗙𝗶𝗿𝗲𝘀

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Baz's POV

I wake up to Simon Snow's hungry expression. Or maybe his ruthless aspsassin-killer face.

         Perhaps a mixture. I can't tell, my mind is fuzzy.

         Pinched blond brows, eyes made of burning blue—as if you took blue and lit it on fire and watched it melt. Thick and tidal and raging. (Maybe that's just my foggy vision though.) Everything about him is so hungry, if he were a vampire his fangs would be in my throat by now.

   Fuck Snow and Penelope Bunce. (I know she was a part of his plan. She usually is his plan.) You should never trust someone so smart and their brilliantly, blindingly, and beautifully stupid and persistent best friend.

           Simon Snow just spells trouble. (Quite literally, too. His spells rarely work, and are rather destructive at best.)

And I hate how the mischievous glint in his blue eyes drives me wild. How my heart races at the mere sight of him. How my breath hitches, caught in my throat, desperate to capture his lips in mine and devour him. Luckily he has no clue I'm awake. Or maybe he does. My eyes are closed anyway.

Simon fucking Snow. It's as if you've stolen my heart. And attached strings to it, you get to push me away, and pull me close. Whatever you please.

You've lit fires in my soul, and left me burning with desire. Then you've starved me of your touch. Leaving me to turn to ashes. To turn to dust. Because that is all I am without you. You're the oxygen. Keeping me alive, and fueling the fires. Burning me beyond recognition.

            I revolve around you, Simon Snow. I love you the way the earth loves the sun. I exist because of you. I'm alive because of you. I'm thriving because of you. And my very being revolves around you. It isn't a matter of want—it's need, Simon. It's a primal need.

And just one look into your stupidly blue eyes forces me to my knees. You make me weak. You give me hope, for everything good in the world, for your mouth on mine. Then you take it all away. Because how can we be? With all this betrayal between you and me?

Though, it is so hard to remember all of this when I see him. . .

      Because it's all inconsequential. I'd do anything to please you. To see you smile at me, I'd give up all that I am, if you wanted it. And I fucking hate that. . .

But what would I be without Simon Snow? When he is all I know? When he is all I've ever been sure of—

Blue eyes.

           Bronze curls.

           A body speckled with constellations.

          The fact that Simon Snow is a beautiful fuck, who just so happens to be the most powerful magician alive. . .

          He's stubborn and the entire world—magick itself, bends to his will. That nothing can refuse him, not even me. Certainly not me.

          That Simon Snow is alive. So, so alive.

           I'm hopelessly in love with him.

          And I think. . . He loves me, too.