I look at Baz. Was that it? Did he just need me to kiss him to snap out of his suicidal funk? He drops his wand and reaches up to my jumper (his jumper), then pulls it down at the neck. With his other hand, he tears open my shirt collar, popping the top button, and grabs at my cross, eyeing the chain. He gives the cross a good yank—the chain snaps—and he tosses it away. Then Baz looks at me like he always looks at me when he’s about to attack.
