#bazandsimon

“You did, it didn’t you? You defeated the Humdrun. You saved the day, you courageous fuck. You absolute nightmare.”

Sorry this is one day late, but this is for @carryon-valentines celebration but my fanfic was too long and I was not familiar with the read more. Hopefully this works!! Thanks to @chapter-61 for finding the beanie pic, and to mt friends @brilizzle4shizzle @omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts @helenora and @nico-army

BAZ

I find myself again at Simon’s door. Technically, it’s Simon and Penny’s flat, but I come for Simon. Penny answers the door.

“Hello, Bunce.” I greet her.

“Come in, Baz! Simon is in his room.” She says, ushering me inside. “And can you take these up to him?” She hands me a plate with a mountain of scones. I nod, balancing the plate. I walk across the room to Snow’s door, and knock with my head. It takes two hands to balance all these scones. Snow answers the door immediately.

“Scones! I mean, Baz!! It’s good to see you.” He amends, taking the scones and setting them on his bed. I step into Snow’s room, and flop onto my bed across from him. Yes, my bed. Snow has his room decorated just like our old room at Watford. He even stole my bed and desk. And he still sleeps with the windows open.

Snow starts munching on a scone, and turns back to the laptop he had open on his bed. He glances at me, and then hastily closes it. I just raise an eyebrow, and let it go. He grabs another scone, and turns toward me, wiping the crumbs off his hands. It’s useless, with all the scones left and Snow’s eating habits, there will be crumbs everywhere soon enough.

“So. Baz. You’re early for once.” He says through a scone. He just has never gotten over scones. Or his bad eating habits.

“How come you’re eating a mountain of scones right before dinner?” I dodge the comment, raising one perfect eyebrow. We are about to start our dinner date to watch Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Simon’s been dying to see it ever since it came out. Tonight, it’s Simon’s turn to cook and my stomach is bracing just in case.

“It’s just a snack. You know how much I love these things, they’ll all be gone in a couple minutes.” It’s true. The plate is already half empty, but the bed is full of crumbs.

“Are you busy tomorrow at lunch?” I hint. I was walking around downtown the other day and stumbled upon a quaint little restaurant I think Snow would like.

“Actually, I am doing valentine’s shopping. But I’m free after that.” Snow replies.

I forgot Valentine’s Day was coming up. As a child, my family never celebrated Valentine’s Day.  We used to, my mother held festivities at Hampshire and we gave small gifts like chocolate. I used to play violin for our guests. When my mother died, though, we stopped celebrating. Someone buys a bouquet of red roses to put in the foyer, but that is all.

“Would you like to have lunch together after you are done shopping?” I ask.

“Sure.” He grins at me, the last two scones in his hands. Unexpectedly, he holds one out to me. Snow is very stingy with his scones. I raise my eyebrows, tentatively taking the scone. We finish off the scones together.

“So, should we go get dinner set? Start the movie early?” I ask.

“Penny’s about to leave to go to her evening job, then a night class. She wanted to make sure I knew she wouldn’t be back until early tomorrow morning.” He rolls his eyes. A moment later, a knock comes to the door and Penny herself enters. She has a bag slung over her shoulder, and a bright purple ponytail today.

“Hey, since Baz got here early and you two are just waiting here, I’m leaving early so you guys can go ahead and start your date, and not have to wait for me.” She smiles. We stand up, and Snow grabs the empty scone plate.

“Bye, Penny!” He calls to her receding back at the front door, as we make our way into the kitchen. “I already made food, but I need to warm part of it up.” I follow him into the kitchen and grab silverware and go to set a table.  Snow walks out with two plates, one laden with sandwiches, and one with scones. I really hope this is just an appetizer. He sets down the plates, and flops down the sofa. I guess this is it.

“Simon, is this really your idea of dinner?” Just scones and sandwiches.

“Yeah, why?” He asks. He obviously doesn’t get what is wrong with this picture.

“Simon, I’ll be right back.” I say, turning towards the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” He asks, turning on the sofa.

“I’m making dinner.”

“But-”

“I’m making dinner.”

“It’s my tu-”

“Simon. I’m making dinner.”

SIMON

Baz comes out of the kitchen a short time later, and sets in front of me a plate heaped with spaghetti. It looks amazing.

“How did you do all that so fast?!”

“A magician never reveals his secrets.” Baz says smirking.

“Oh, Baz.” Still never misses a chance to insult me. But he always makes up for it with a kiss. It lingers on my lips, making me warm and fuzzy inside. Baz starts to slip down next to me, but then remembers something and gets up.

“Forgot the toppings.” He returns from the kitchen a moment later with sauces, cheeses, and various herb toppings. Baz takes such good care of me.

“I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for, so I brought everything.” He says, setting ‘everything’ down. I assume my face lights up, because he smirks again, as he turns on the TV.

“Look, Simon, its you!” Baz points to the screen. I smile and turn back to my plate.

I love spaghetti, it’s my fourth favorite food. My favorite food is scones, of course, followed by sandwiches, and roast beef in that order. Then spaghetti. I grab my toppings and set them in front of my plate, then start sloppily pouring them over my spaghetti.

I hear Baz sigh, then before I can turn, I feel his hands on mine. He takes the jar from my hands, and pours it delicately for me. It is elegant, and spread smoothly. I blush, and mumble a thanks. I reach towards another container, but Baz grabs it and does it for me. And again.

Soon, my plate is a work of delicious art. I almost feel bad to eat it. ‘Almost’ doesn’t mean I’m not. I grab a fork and start twirling. As I raise another forkful to my mouth, I glance sideways and see Baz watching me, TV paused.

“What?” I ask after swallowing. “Watching me eat now, in addition to my  sleep?”

“It’s just, I can’t hear the movie over you. Should we wait?” He grants me a rare smile. They aren’t as rare as they used to be, but still unusual. I glare goodnaturedly and slurp my spaghetti loudly to get on his nerves. He snorts, and presses play on the TV.

“Plotting.” I hear a whisper hardly over a breath,

“What?!” I spin around

“I didn’t say anything, Snow.” He looks curiously at me.

“Yes, you- but- I- you- ARGH!!”

Baz glances at me, and when he thinks I’ve looked away he smiles and picks up his fork. We eat spaghetti a lot, Baz and I. Baz’s fangs pop when he eats, but not so much with spaghetti. He knows I don’t care, and neither does Penny for that matter. He just feels better and less self-conscious eating alone, or eating foods that don’t make his fangs pop as much. Baz catches me staring at him, and pauses the movie again.

“Well, Snow, I know I’m beautiful, but we’re supposed to be watching a movie.”

“What can I say, Baz. Watching you is better than a movie. If I had known what it was like to watch your love sleep and eat, I would have joined you a long time ago.” I grin.

“Shut up and watch the movie.” Baz grumbles, but I can see a grin wanting to burst out. I reach over and grab his hand. I scoot super close to him and lay my head on his shoulder. He extends his arm around my shoulder and leans against me, his hair falling across my forehead.

“I love you, Baz.”

“I love you too, Simon.”

BAZ

My empty stomach wakes me up. We apparently fell asleep during the movie. The TV turned itself off, and the lights are all off. Even in the darkness, I can see.

I feel heavy, like there’s a weight on my chest and I can’t get up. Then I realize there is a weight on my chest. Simon is laying on top of me, asleep, his head in my shoulder. One hand is under my head, the other in mine. His wings spread out over us, and his tail is pointed to the floor.

Bunce cast a spell she invented, “Never to be seen again!” on his wings, so they are invisible and insubstantial. However, they reappear for some reason when he sleeps and don’t go away until he showers. In her spare time, Bunce tests and researches the spell, trying to figure out how it works, and why it works like that for Snow. He seems to like it though, because he doesn’t have to worry about concealing them ever, or when we aren’t here, and he gets to keep them.

I smile, and stroke his hair back across his face and behind his ear. A moment later, it falls back across his forehead in slow motion, because his ear can’t hold back such curls. I smirk, and shift to get up. Simon mumbles in his sleep and holds me, not letting me move.

I would just sigh and lay back, snuggling into Simon comfortably, but I have to feed. I cast “Float like a butterfly!” to lift him so I can shrug myself out and slip onto the floor. I place a couple pillows in Simon’s arms and steal out the front door.

Not many people are up so early, or is it late? I’m not sure whether it is day yet, but it’s dark still, and you can see the stars. I stride across the street and into some nearby woods. This was part of the reason Simon insisted on this flat, it was right by a wood. I protested that he didn’t have to, but he was adamant. It’s not large, but large enough for game I can feed on and a large stream I can dump the body in.

Once I’m full, I start heading back. The trees are not packed tightly, but not spread too far apart either. You can’t see to the other side of the forest, but it’s not crowded. I step over a root protruding from the ground and around another tree, and Simon’s head swings down out of the tree in front of mine, wings wide and flapping.

“What the fuck Snow?!” I jump backwards, and trip over the root. He’s laughing. He must have been sitting in the tree waiting for me to arrive. I brush myself off and walk back up to him. He’s hanging upside down, his face level in front of mine.

“No, really Snow, you scared me half to death.” He’s laughing, but he stops abruptly.

“Wait-” We make eye contact, then both burst out laughing. Then he slips, falling from the branch-

-and into my arms. He somehow ended up right side up, shoulders over one of my arms, knees over the other. He looks winded, which is understandable.

“Thanks, Baz.” He says, looking up at me, a bit wide-eyed.

“Anytime. No, really, I mean anytime. If you ever feel the urge to fall out of a tree again, yell my name and I’ll come catch you so you don’t fall, okay?” I smile down at him.

“Okay.” He whispers back, lifting his lips up to mine. I hold him up close as I carry him back to the flat.

“Simon?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you even climb that tree in the dark?”

SIMON

I don’t know what time it is when I wake up first. It must be around dawn, because soft light is seeping in the window. I glance over to see that Baz is awake, sitting up on his bed. This would not usually startle me, but the fact that he had his wand out does. He is tapping it against his knee, looking concentrated. I am too tired to do anything, so I just roll over and drift back into sleep.

When I wake up again, it is to the blaring of the alarm clock. I stretch an arm over to turn it off. I rub my eyes, and sit up. I stretch my arms and wings, nearly knocking pictures off the wall. Baz is either asleep, or pretending to be, rolled over towards the wall on his bed. With a mischievous grin, I start flapping my wings and poke him with my tail. With the wind and the poke, he sits up, after a moment. When he turns to me, his eyes go wide and he falls off the bed.

“What’s so funny, Baz?” I ask, laughing.

“You’re hair!” he says, shocked, sitting back on his bed. I frown and reach my hand up and run it through my curls. It feels the same as usual.

“It’s blue!” he howls with laughter.

“What!?” I ask, my hand flying up to my head again.

“You’re hair is bright blue! Here, see?” Baz says, grabbing his phone from the desk and holding it up to me. He takes a picture and turns it towards me. My hair is pastel blue.

“I actually kinda like it.” I say, studying the photo, running my fingers through it, testing this new color against my fingers. It feels the same, but it’s new all the same. This blue color goes great against my wings. Baz sighs, and takes his phone out of my hands.

“I’m saving this.” He says. I just grin and roll my eyes good naturedly. I turn back to the desk, and am surprised to find two vases that were not there last night. One is near my bed the other near Baz’s.

“Hey Baz, look.” I say, pointing to the two vases. Mine has a large, full red rose that looks almost fluffy. Baz has a sleek black rose, fading to dark grey. It reminds me of his eyes. I grin, and lift my rose gently from its vase. Baz does the same, switching the grin to a thoughtful expression.

“Hey, what’s this?” Baz speaks suddenly, unrolling a tiny scroll of paper tied to the stem under the blossom. I find a similar one under my rose. I unroll it and read the swirling script.

Rosebuds are Red,

Your hair is bright blue,

114.5 hours,

But I’m still prettier than you.

I feel a blush start to creep into my cheeks as I read it, and my wings flutter like my heart, of their own accord. Baz is watching me curiously.

“What’s in 114.5 hours?” Baz concentrates for a few minutes.

“Tuesday.” He says. That’s Valentine’s Day. Oh.

“What does yours say?” I ask, nodding to the paper in his hands. He unrolls it and starts to read. Baz start to blush. I just sit anxious, waiting for him to finish.

“Did you do this?” He whispers, handing it to me.

Even though your heart’s pitch black,

It fits my gold one on my sleeve

I know we used to attack

But I never want you to leave

“No.” I say, surprised. Which is partially a lie. I did write it. I just didn’t put it there… He looks suspiciously at me. I did write that note. For Baz. But I gave it to Penny… and I had nothing to do with the roses or any of this.

“Did you write this?” I ask, handing him mine. He reads it quickly with a straight face.

Since he blushed when reading his, he can blush right now, but his cheeks stay pale.

“No.” A thought occurs to me. My hair was blue this morning when I woke up. Last night I saw Baz watching me with his wand out. He could also be lying. Or plotting. On the other hand, I gave that note to Penny and she knows how to spell hair different colors… Baz says he didn’t do it. I don’t know if I believe him.

“Penny?” I yell, looking out the door, to see if she’s home. But she isn’t here yet. I look back to Baz. I bet he’s plotting something.

PENELOPE

I wait nearly half an hour before “coming home”. I can’t have them suspecting anything. I slip into the house again, to find Simon and Baz on the couch. They turn when I enter, and Simon jumps up.

“Nice hair, Simon.” He lights up a moment, smiling. He’s wearing a soft pink sweater that compliments his pastel hair nicely. I’m glad he likes it, I thought blue would be a good color for him. He walks over to me and whispers in my ear.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Yes, Simon?” I ask innocently. His eyes dart over to Baz. He must not want to be overheard.

“How about we go to my room while I get ready to work on stuff?” I ask. Baz stays on the couch, looking thoughtfully out the window. I take Simon into my room and we sit down on the bed, facing each other.

“What did you do?” He asks, getting to the point immediately. He pulls something out from behind his back and holds it up. It’s the two roses I placed in their room last night. I took Simon’s note that he wrote fro Baz and just delivered it.

“I-” my phone starts ringing, just on cue. Micah. “Sorry, I have to take this call.” Taking the cue, Simon steps out, annoyed. I grin when he is gone. Now I don’t have to explain anything, and it can still be secret.

“Hey, Micah!”

After my phone call is over, I walk into the living room to see that Simon is gone. He must be out shopping, he said he needed to today. Baz is also gone from the couch, but I peek in Simon’s room and he is there. I decide not to disturb him. I wonder what he’s doing, though, sitting with a sheet of paper…

Last night, I went into their room while they were both asleep and planted the two roses. Then I left again, to come back later so as to not draw suspicion. If they think I wasn’t home until later, I am not a suspect. I want them to work it out on their own.

Micah is coming over during spring break. He has been trying to visit when he can, but it’s still hard that he lives so far away. I will probably just spend Valentine’s Day with Simon and Baz. That seems to be the tacit plan, but if not, it’s just Tuesday. I’ll call Micah and then probably work and celebrate Valentine’s Day during spring break with him. We’ll see. But until then I can make sure Simon and Baz have the best possible Valentine’s Day.

BAZ

I didn’t write that note. Someone else is sending ‘secret admirer’ notes to my boyfriend. Maybe I should write some… No, that’s just silly. It’s probably just some prank. What if it isn’t? Maybe I should write notes. It can’t hurt. Besides, Simon is taken and whoever is sending these notes needs to know that.

Simon says he didn’t write the note, but I’m not sure I believe him. Bunce isn’t home, and I know they don’t have romantic feelings. I was up most of the night, and didn’t see anyone. I might have dozed off… I probably did. But it couldn’t have been for long. Who could have put them there?

Simon is out doing shopping for Valentine’s Day, and I’m sitting on my bed at his flat, staring at a blank sheet of paper. I have no idea how to write a ‘secret admirer’ letter. Needless to say, I’ve never done it before.

What do I say? How do I say it? My mind is full of questions. Do I write a poem? A cheesy, I love you? Just a note? I pick up the pencil I have set next to the blank paper and twiddle my fingers around it, tapping it against my head.

Why am I even doing this? Why write notes at all? I suppose it’s because someone was sending love notes to my boyfriend and I need to make sure they know he’s taken. He’s mine. MY boyfriend! I hear a solid thunk as the pencil lodges itself a solid few inches into the wall opposite me. Oops. I sigh and stand up to retrieve it, gingerly touching Simon’s bed. I remember staring at this bed, as Simon’s curls fell over the pillow, wishing. Sometimes I still can’t believe what happened.

Sometimes I feel like this is all just a dream, all my fantasies coming together in my dying mind. Delusions forming one last dream as I burn under the tree. That nothing since then is real, and I’m dying, ending in flames as I always knew I would. That Simon Snow left me to die instead of kissing me, and I’m there still. Burning. Crashing into the sun, when it’s passed too far, behind the moon.

I shove these bad thoughts away. I can't possibly be dreaming.  Even in my dreams this wasn't happening. I turn back to my paper.

I think I should write a poem. It’s romantic, but not cheesy, and will make it flow better and be more meaningful.  Yes, I will write a poem. What kind of poem? My mind flits between all the different types of poems I know. I could write a haiku. I love haiku for its simple elegance and deep meaning. Would Simon even appreciate a haiku?

I realize I don’t know anything about what Simon knows about poetry, or how good he is at it. I think I will write a haiku. Even if he doesn’t understand it, it will be beautiful.

So, a poem, and more specifically a haiku. But what should it say? I start scribbling and a few hours later I have something to work with. Then I have something I can actually give without feeling terrible.

The sound of the front door startles me out of my reverie. Is Simon home already? I glance at the clock and notice that it is a lot later than I thought.  Our lunch date is in less than half an hour. Jumping up, I run to my coat and dash out the door.

The hard sidewalk pounds under my thin soles, in tune to my quick breath. I have to make it to the restaurant early in order to properly prepare. I have it all set in my mind, but I have to be fast to get it ready in time.

I turn a corner and see the it right ahead of me. Skidding to a halt, I regain my composure as I stride through the door. Scanning the room for the best table, I walk up to the counter.

“I would like to make a special reservation.” I announce to the cashier at the counter.

“I’m sorry sir, we don’t do reservations here.” I reach into my coat pocket and pull out a small stack of crisp notes and place them on the counter between us.

“I would like to make a reservation.”

SIMON

The bell chimes pleasantly as I leave the store, juggling all my full shopping bags. I take Valentine’s Day very seriously. Some might say too seriously, but I think it’s worth it. Especially now that I have someone to share it with.

The only problem is that so much shopping has left me with a lot of bags, and it is hard to carry all of them. As I cross over a particularly rough patch of sidewalk, I stumble, and in slow motion see a couple of the bags fly out of my arms in the momentary panic. Next year I’m limiting my shopping. My arms are so full I can’t possibly catch the wayward bags.

But someone else does.

“Let me help you with those.” A smooth voice comes from beside me. I turn to see Baz striding in step with me, holding the fallen bags.

“Baz! I was going to come home to get you!”

“I came to get you.” He says, smiling down at me. He’s still taller than me. His sunglasses slip down on his nose where I can see his eyes, full of humor.

“Well, then at least- take- these!” I say, rummaging in a couple bags. I triumphantly pull out a thick fabric item.

“What. Is. That.” Baz says, eyeing it.

“It’s a beanie!” I smile, reaching forward to slip it on his head. He glares.

“You know I don’t wear hats.” He says.

“So do you not want it?” I reach out, but he turns away, holding it to his head.

“No! I’m wearing this every day from now on.” I grin, pull out the next thing. I hand it to Baz.

“Why are you giving me an umbrella?” He asks slowly.

“To protect you from the sun!” I say, opening it over his head.

“It isn’t even raining.” He grumbles.

“So?” I reply cheerfully.

“Simon people are staring.” He’s glaring around, daring anyone to comment.

“Let them stare.”

“Simon-”

“Fine. Let’s give them something to stare at.” And I turn him around and lean up to kiss him, somehow managing to arrange my bags so my hands are on either side of his face. He stops, and I am not entirely sure what he is thinking because my eyes are closed.

My guess is that he is either surprised, pissed, content, or a combination. When I open my eyes, I think I did a good job guessing. He sports a wide-eyed glare (how does he do that?), but he’s not pulling away. After another few moments, I do.

“Simon!”

“Baz.” I grin up at him, with mischievous eyes.

“There’s plenty of time for that later. But for now, we need to get to the restaurant, or we’ll be late.”

“Restaurant?” My face lights up at the mention of food. Baz smirks and grabs my arm, pulling me down the street.

“Right this way.”

BAZ

When we walk in, the table I reserved is already set with a candle, and a scone appetizer platter. The cashier from earlier this evening sees me, and stands up straighter, rushing to pull out Simon’s chair for him. Simon looks awed.

Streamers hang from the ceiling and soft music plays. A menu is placed in front of each of us. I hold mine up, but so that I can see Simon over the top. He looks like he can’t decide whether to eat the scones or look at his menu first. I smile.

I pick up my menu, but am peeking over the top. Simon decides to look at his menu first, which must take a lot of effort because the scones are right in front of him. As I planned, the waiter (cashier that is now a waiter) brings over two extra-large drinks. I wrote down the recipe for Pumpkin Mocha Breves and told him to have two ready for us.

Simon orders roast beef, and the waiter takes both our menus. I don’t order anything because I don’t eat in public. How would people react when they saw fangs appear in my mouth? Besides, I have a giant drink and Simon to occupy my time.

Simon’s food is ready very quickly, but he has already finished off the scones. I can see someone at another table watching us, grimacing. A lot of people are staring at us, actually. I give them a glare, and they turn back to their food very quickly.

Simon and I make small talk as he eats, but I do most of the talking, since I have no food and Simon talks with food in his mouth. Eventually, one of the people that was staring at us earlier comes hesitantly over to our table.

“I like your hair.” The woman says to Simon. “And your hat.” She says to me. I glare at her and she looks frightened. Simon just smiles warmly and thanks her.

“You two make a nice couple too.” She says, before leaving quickly.

“Thanks!” Simon calles, smiling widely.

When we get back to the flat, I tell Simon to go ahead inside while I feed. When I walk in the door, I see pink. Everywhere. Pink and red and roses and hearts. It takes me a minute to find Simon in all this pink. I finally spot him balancing precariously on a ladder, a large pink heart banner in his hands.

“Simon, what are you doing?” I ask.

“I’m decorating!” He beams at me, attaching the banner and climbing down the ladder.

“Why?” I’m still blinking at all the pink. It’s everywhere. Flowers, banners, pictures, hearts covering nearly every surface. It’s hard to see.

“Because it’s almost Valentine’s Day.” Simon rolls his eyes like it should be obvious.

“People decorate for Valentine’s Day?” The concept is completely unfamiliar to me.

“Yes.” Is all Simon says, kissing me for good measure. I hold him there, reluctant to pull away. It’s moments like these that bring out smiles in me. Dinner passes without mention of the extensive decoration Simon has put up. This must be why he had so many shopping bags. I’m still thinking about Valentine’s Day after Simon goes to sleep.

I reach over to my desk and open the drawer, removing the slip of paper. It’s my ‘secret admirer’ note. Where do I put it so that Snow will find it? I don’t have any vases or roses, and I don’t want to do a repeat. I look over to Snow, stretched out on his bed. He used to sleep curled up in a ball, but now he sleeps on his stomach stretched out to keep his wings comfortable. In that position they also double as blankets.

Snow’s hair tumbles over itself on the pillow… His hair! Yesterday (or this morning?) his hair was blue, so maybe I could put the note in his hair. It’s as good of an idea as any. How will I get it to stay? Maybe Bunce has something I could stick in his hair with this in it, a hair clip of some sort. Bunce is at a night class, so her room is empty. I sneak in, and glance around.

The dresser top looks most promising for a hair clip, so I start gently rummaging around for one. Finally, I find something. It is straight on one side, and bumpy on the other. It is long and slender, brown, and looks like it goes in hair. I guess this will do. I head back to Snow’s room holding the strange pin and the poem.

Gently, I kneel on the floor by Snow’s bed and lift one of his thicker curls. I slide the pin in and tuck the note into it. There. Sitting on my bed, admire my work. Then I admire his face. Finally, I turn over and fall asleep.

PENELOPE

When Simon and Baz return, they go to Simon’s room and stay there for a while. I don’t want to intrude, so I sit on the couch and work. I am suprised when Simon flops down next to me. I close my laptop and set it aside, turning to him.

“I need help.” He states, and pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket.

“What do you need, Simon?” I ask.

“I know that you did something with the roses and notes, I’m not sure what. I’m ignoring that for now.” Thank goodness he isn’t pressing me for details, its supposed to be a secret. “I want you to deliver this letter- note- this- to Baz in the morning.” He holds the paper to me. It has a short poem written on it.

“Of course, Simon.” I pocket the poem with a smile.

Later that night, once I’m sure they are both asleep, I tip-toe quietly into their room. I am holding Simon’s note, thinking about a way to deliver it.

That’s when I notice the roll of paper stuck in SImon’s hair. I glance over at Baz and smile. This must be his work. I silently pull a bobby pin from my own hair and slip Simon’s note into Baz’s hair. I try to be as delicate as possible so I don’t wake him up.

I close the door as quietly as I can and slip back to my room smiling. Baz took the bait. I planted Simon’s secret admirer note to make Baz jealous. I believe it worked. I fall asleep with Simon’s next note still in my pocket, undelivered.

BAZ

In the morning, wake up about the same time as Simon. I laugh, and point to his head after a minute, as though just then seeing the paper in it.

“Simon, there’s something in your hair.” I say, pointing to the paper I stuck in it last night. Simon’s eyes widen as runs his fingers through his hair to find it, sliding it out deftly. His eyes are trained on my face, and flick up after a moment, past my eyes.

“So do you!” He exclaims.

“What?!” I pat my head frantically all over until I finally find the damned thing. It’s rolled into a bobby pin just like Simon’s. I stare dumbfounded at it until Simon’s hands catch my attention. He’s reading his note. I stare attentively at his face.

A blush creeps into Simon’s cheeks and his wings start to flutter, tail whisking about joyfully. He looks slyly in my direction. The note is not bothering to hide who wrote it.

It was hopeless from year two,

But I could never get to you.

Your fire burns, but oh so warm

I was a match in a Snow-storm

I don’t say anything, just smirk, and turn to my note. Simon’s snaps to attention and fixes on my face as I start to read it.

I know you’re still plotting,

But I love you like scones,

I live for your eyes,

Die with your sad moans.

I feel my ears turn pink (they shouldn’t even be able to do that). It could only be Simon. This has to be his work. Neither one of us say anything.

As if on cue, we move forwards at the same time, and our lips embrace. I feel Simon’s wings curl around my back as he presses me down on my back. I clench my fist in his hair and push back. Everything is a fight with Simon. Even kissing.  Our faces smash against each other passionately.

A knock at the door causes us both to jump, snapping apart like a rubber band breaking. Penny’s voice comes from outside the door.

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know I’m leaving. I’m grabbing breakfast at the café, you you guys are on your own.” We hear her footsteps recede from the door.

“Bye!” Simon calls hastily, picking himself up off the floor. We look at each other for a moment, unsure whether to continue, or move on. We both move in to carry on.

While Simon’s in the shower, I go to the kitchen and take out a baking sheet. I pull out an apron and tie it around my waist before grabbing the flour, and other ingredients. I mix the dough, and pour in some pink food dye. When all the dough is pink, I grab a handful. I shape it into a heart and put it on the pan. Soon I have an entire batch of pink, heart shaped, sour cherry scones.

I pile them on a plate, eating one before Simon claims them all. I hear the door open, and Simon himself enters. He looks up, and stops dead in the doorway.

“Baz.”

“Yes, Simon?”

“You’re- you’re wearing an apron.” He stutters out.

“Oh, not this again.” I roll my eyes.

“And jeans! It’s- it’s-” At a loss for words, he rushes into my arms and places a fierce kiss on my lips, arms squeezing my back. After a surprised moment, I return the favor. I hope the rest of today is as good as this morning has been.

And, there were no notes from the unknown secret admirer this morning. I smile to myself as I watch Simon lovingly devour my scones.

SIMON

The note this morning could only have been from Baz. It is a different tone than the first note. Maybe the first one wasn’t from Baz. But this one was for sure.

After my shower, I follow a delicious smell into the kitchen to find that Baz had made pink, sour cherry heart scones. And he was wearing an apron. Baz looks amazing in an apron and jeans, and his hair tied up.

Baz and I have a day on the town. We come back exhausted. For once, Baz lays down and falls asleep immediately. Even though I am just as knackered, I take advantage of the situation to tie a note around his wrist with a black ribbon. Then I fall into my own bed and deep dreams.

Baz wakes me up, shaking my shoulders until I throw him off onto the floor.

“I’m up!” I mumble into the pillow, but I can tell he hears. My tail flicks and I feel something slide along it. Starting, I look down to see a pink ribbon tying a piece of paper to my tail. I don’t even wait to start reading it to blush this morning. My eyes involuntarily glance to Baz’s wrist to see his unopened note. He must have been waiting for me.

We sit together on my bed to read our notes, heads on each other’s shoulders.

To Baz

Baz, I hope you know

How much I really love you,

That I’m never letting go.

After all these years,

Should have figured out sooner,

Together at last.

Baz Pitch, am yours.

Won’t let anyone take you,

Because you are mine

From Simon

To  Simon

Chimeras, dragons,

Even pushed you down the stairs

But nothing hurts you.

My glares hid love’s stares,

I was hopelessly in love,

Couldn’t let you go.

I know you know it,

But that doesn’t make it false

Simon Snow, I love you

From Baz

Since tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, Baz and I spend all of today together, watching movies and playing games, and sometimes Penny joins in too.

We decide to give presents a day in advance. I give Baz a large box of chocolates with a rose tied on with a ribbon matching the black one he kept on his wrist. I give Penny a set of books she’s been asking for and a set of gel pens. We sit around and talk or play games for hours, until we all are nearly too tired to climb into bed.

In the morning, I wake up before Baz. I can hear Penny awake milling around in the kitchen. Baz is the only one asleep. I soon fix that.

“Baz! Hey, Baz! Baz, wake up!” I yell, jumping on his bed.

“What?” He groans sleepily.

“What day is it?” I press, full of excitement,

“Um, it’s Tuesday, Simon.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day!”

“It’s also Tuesday,”

“You- It- But- Oh, Baz.” I lay down next to him and am soon in his arms. Baz’s dark grey eyes are awake now, staring into mine.

•'He pokes around in the refrigerator. Just your typical teenage vampire, getting a midnight snack.'

•'There is no 'this'!' I protest. 'You slept in my arms,' he says. 'Fitfully.'

•'And it's true, to some extent, anyway. I trust Agatha not to be evil. I don't trust her alone with Baz- though i guess i should rethink that, in the light of recent information.'

•'I was hoping for a kiss—i wasn't conspiring against the Mage!' 'You were?' I couldn't tell who i was jealous over in this situation. Both of them, i guess.'

•'We used to give Ebb hell over being a virgin. Hell, she's probably still a virgin. (Does feeling up other girls even count?)

•'I know the official answer, Simon— thanks. In America, they think that you become more powerful the more magic you use.' 'Like fossil fuels.'