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[flammablepitch]

As you set your things down in the dorm, your eyes wander to the other half of the room. It looks as if he hasn't arrived yet; good. It means that you still have a reprieve, a bit more time to steel yourself for the inevitable. You begin to start unpacking your things, eyes ever wondering back to that side of the room. It was like an elephant, that side, something that really couldn't be denied and would always bring your thoughts back to him.

Quite frankly, it sucked.

It had sucked every year before this, and it would suck until they graduated - or until he killed him. Baz was sure that's how this would end, with Snow killing him after they graduated, doing precisely what his personal god wanted him to do.

And yet there was nothing you could do about it. Not until you both graduated and you were given a reprieve from this damn torture.

Comments

[flammablepitch]

[Baz's brows narrow in confusion. How was it so hard to understand that he wanted to be with Simon, that it was all he'd ever wanted?]

Why? You're the one who was straight and dating Wellbelove until fairly recently.

[fuckingtragedy]

What's that got to do with anything?

[flammablepitch]

What I'm saying is that of the two of us, you've got more of a reason to bolt. Not that I think you would.

[fuckingtragedy]

I'm not going to bolt. I just...

[Simon scrubs a hand over his face. His therapist keeps telling him to communicate. To use his words. How is he supposed to do that when he can't find them?]

I know this didn't turn out how either of us expected. And now I don't even have magic, so...

[flammablepitch]

I'm in love with you. That never had anything to do with your magic.

[fuckingtragedy]

[There it is. The L-word. And as soon as it leaves Baz's mouth, Simon's at a complete loss. Silent. Fucking mute. And he fills up the dearth of sound with an idle tapping of his fingertips against the pumpkin.

He can talk about this. He can. Just...

How?]

Look, I'm just-- I'm worried. About what any of this means. I never really made plans, you know. Because--

[Because he didn't expect to live.]

So I don't really know what I'm doing now. Or going to do. And I think-- I don't know. I feel a mess. I think you deserve better than that.

[flammablepitch]

Didn't I already tell you that we match?

He resists the urge to reach over and take hold of Simon's hand. It's so close, so tempting, but he's afraid that Simon would push or pull him away. He's not sure if he'd be able to handle that right now.]

I wouldn't want you to be perfect, it'd be exhausting trying to keep up with you.

[fuckingtragedy]

Not perfect, no one's perfect. But--

[Simon's having trouble enough with just meeting Baz's eyes.]

Thank you for being patient with me. Just don't feel like you need to, or there's some obligation to-- You know. To stay. With me.

[Not that Baz has ever bent to obligation before, Simon's sure. It just feels like an important distinction to make.]

[flammablepitch]

Snow, if I based my life on obligation, I'd be dead.

[He turns to watch him, to observe his face as it's said.]

I'm here because I want this; because I want you. Fucked up pieces and all.

[fuckingtragedy]

[It's alarming, how often Baz is knocking the wind out of him tonight.]

Baz, would you mind telling me that every single day? [Simon laughs, but it comes out slightly bitter.] It, uhh-- It helps to hear it. A lot, actually.

[flammablepitch]

As much as you need it, Snow.

[fuckingtragedy]

Permission to snog your face off?

[flammablepitch]

[Baz can't help smiling like an idiot.]

You never need to ask.

[fuckingtragedy]

[That being the case, at least they're well-entertained for the next half-hour.]