Breathless...

𝗛𝗲𝗿𝗲, 𝗯𝗶𝗿𝗱𝗶𝗲!

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Baz's POV

I wake up to Snow's body curling around me carefully. Ah, Snow. . . I let out a soft chuckle as his head buries between my shoulder blades, and his legs tangle around my waist. When he realizes that I'm awake he presses a gentle kiss on my shoulder.

"Hey, boo, how are you feeling?" He whispers in my ear, his breathing ruffles my hair.

"Just divine. . ." I say, smiling lazily at the wall before me. At that he rises a little, and kisses my eyebrow. My heart is caught in my throat. I can't help but smile wider. The sun however, wishes to pester me by shining a little brighter right then. I roll my eyes pointedly at our window, as if the sun could sense my disdain. Snow notices what I'm doing and struggles to hold in his laughter.

"I love you, Bazzy." He giggles. I don't quite feel like talking—as if words may ruin this perfect morning, so I only scoot further into his chest, my back flush against him. If I tilt my head up, I might be able to pepper kisses over his jaw. I think about it, looking up. Blue eyes catch mine, a resonating calm in them. Simon Snow looks at me as if I'm the only thing worthy of watching. As if I'm all there is, and there's nothing else to ever see. My stomach flutters at the thought. I wiggle a little in his arms, and roughly kiss his neck, leaving my mark. His blood smells holy. He smells like forest fires. So I stay there. Bathing in his flaming magick, it reminds me of mine. Maybe we are soulmates. Maybe this is a sign; our magick's compatibility. . .

This truly is a perfect morning. Heck, even the birds are chirping; and the goddamn merwolves are quiet.

"It's midday, Baz. . ." Simon says, as if he can read my thoughts.

"Snow—why?" I ask incredulously, accusing him of ruining my 'morning'. He laughs in response. Typical.

Wait. I'm lying in the Chosen One's arms. I still can't believe it. The Simon Snow. . . Is mine. I like to remind myself every morning. Brag to myself about how lucky I am. The worst part is. . . He knows I'm doing it. He always figures it out. And depending on his mood, he either laughs at me endlessly while teasing, or he gives me a lovesick smile.

Sometimes I think we're sickeningly sweet. It's strange. Then I insult and snap at everyone around me to make up for being so soft. He laughs at that, too.

Suddenly a bird flies in through our window. A pigeon. Bearing a message. . .

"Baz, there's something in its feet!" Simon yells, pulling away. I can instantly feel the lack of warmth around me. I'm not blind, Snow, I'm aware that there's a scroll in its talons. Hold up, what the fuck did he just call them?

"Simon. . Love, they are not called feet!" I point out, staring at him as if he's grown another head. "How can you be so stupid?" I ask, and he turns around to smirk at me. His blue eyes are made of fire. And his grin is made of charisma.

"And charming at the same time?" He suggests. "I don't know, Bazzy, it's a real talent." The smirking bastard quips.

"You are such a loser." I tell him. Getting up to examine the squawking bird's talons with him. Sure enough, someone's cast A little bird once told me on it. It has a rough paper that I attempt to pry out, but the bird immediately launches into the air with wide eyes.