Breathless...

𝗢𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗽𝘁.𝟰

This Chapter is especially for you, CyllXRosso. I know I said it before, but with everything that is happening in our lives. . . Just know that I love you. And I love you more than anything. I spent this entire chapter crying over you, I really hope I don't lose you. And all I can think about is you. Because I don't want to live in a world without you.

Baz's POV

The Mage is standing right at the door. Simon takes a harsh breath and drapes his arms around me protectively. His smoky magick rises in the air and I can tell that his blue eyes are blazing. If I was the Mage, I'd be petrified. And preparing my own funeral.

              And something in my heart tightens at that thought. At the fact that Simon is protecting me. Choosing me over the Mage. I didn't think he would. I didn't think he'd ever. I didn't think he knew how.

               . . . But he does. And it's me. 

              Simon Snow chose me.

              More tears well in my swollen eyes, spilling over Simon's tense shoulder. I'm still shaking in his arms. Simon--Simon you're here. You're really here. You're here. . .

              I wasn't wrong to think that he's the bravest there is.

Simon's POV

I know. I know how this will end.

             "This won't end in flames, Baz." I promise, whispering it into his ear. His tears don't stop flowing and he kisses my neck, exactly where his head was cradled. I feel him breathe an 'I love you' against my bare skin.

             "Simon," the Mage warns. "Get away from that Pitch boy." His voice is laced with malice, but I know he can't hurt Baz, with or without my defence. The Old Families would have his head. He wouldn't dare.

            "No." I hiss, seething; having no intention of leaving Baz. Every bone in my body is quaking, and the magick rises to my throat.

           "That was not a request, Simon." He commands, matching my threatening tone. And even though fear is seeping into me, the adrenaline courses through my veins. I know I won't back down. I can't—I need to protect Baz.

           "I won't." I tell him, my eyes settling for a glare. "Sir," I spit out, maybe out of mockery, because there is not a chance that even raging demons could hold me back. I will go off on the Mage, if he dare take another step towards Baz. If dragons and goblins and aspsassins couldn't take me down, what chance did the Mage have? I was more fierce than the gatekeepers of Hell.

             Baz is mine to love, mine to protect, mine to hold. He's all mine. And no one is getting past me.

            "So, you're saying you're gay now?" He asks, saying 'gay' as if it's a curse. My stomach churns at his disgusted tone. But the challenge in my eyes doesn't diminish. The threat in them doesn't halt or waver.

            "Is there a problem." And we both know it isn't a question.

            "Why him? Why not that blond girl you were so happily dating only a last year?" His question is cruel, his voice is stone.

            "Because I fucking love him." I spit out. Even though the Mage doesn't deserve to hear it. He scoffs. Fucking scoffs. My heart screeches as it twists violently. Baz is my everything. He's all I know, he's all I love, he's all that I am. I wouldn't be Simon Snow without Baz Pitch. I need him. So, fuck the man in 'green tights' as Baz so eloquently says, for hating on someone who chooses to love, and is worthy of love of the love he receives.

            "Are you so blind, Simon?" The Mage raises his voice, "That you do not even realize he's a Pitch! He's from the House of Pitch, and he's plotting against us!" 

            Maybe the Mage actually believes his delusional crap. Like I once did. But I'm not letting him get away with it now.

           "He's just a fucking boy!" I yell back, adding "Sir." A little too late.

           "Watch the way you speak to me, Simon." He warns again, clearly distempered. "Clearly, this Pitch has you wrapped around his fingers." And he's indirectly saying, 'You're a disappointment.' As if that changes anything.

             Fuck if I care what he thinks right now.

             "Sorry, Sir." I spit. "But maybe he does have me wrapped around his fingers, and maybe that isn't as bad as being wrapped around yours!" I say venemously, and he recoils.

             "Alright, Simon. If that's what you believe, I'll step out of your way." He says. But it doesn't sound like he's giving up at all. It doesn't show in his narrowed eyes and grimacing thin lips. "And out of your life. You are not my responsibility any longer. If you ever need anything, go ask the lovely House of Pitch since you're so intimate with them now." He says, his voice dropping to a menace. "You're lucky I'm not throwing you out of Watford."

               I stop for a second to think over what he says, and he turns around dramatically, and storms away. 

               Fuck--I just lost the Mage.

              And Baz is still sniffling into my shoulder, muttering apologies. I hold him tighter in response.

              Fuck, fuck, fuck. We were just outed to the Mage. I was just outed to the Mage. And he. . . Well, I don't even understand what he did.