Any Way the Wind Blows (Simon Snow, #3)

by Rainbow Rowell

“Be gentle with me … Even though you don’t have to.” “I—” My hand goes slack in his hair. “Gentle?”

Omg I can’t

“Please, Snow.” I let some air between us. “Don’t say ‘please,’ Baz.” “Why not?” “Because you don’t have to,” I say. “You don’t have to, I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“Was I hurting you?” “No…” “You want me to be gentle?” He nods his head. “All the time?” “Now.”

Too wholesome k bye

Is this what people do? I’m gentle, I’m so gentle.

Is this what people do? At night? In the dark?

I’m gentle. He isn’t. And I am. “Kiss me,” he says. I kiss him. “Please,” he says. “Baz, don’t—” “Please…”

He doesn’t have to beg. He never has to beg. I’ll give him whatever he wants. Can’t he see that, here in the dark—that I’ll give him whatever he wants? My hand is gentle on his scalp, gentle on his throat. I couldn’t break him if I tried. I won’t try.

“Baz.” I kiss him. “You can have whatever you want.” “I want to always be here.” “I want that, too. I love you.”

My fucking heart

Baz. Like a wave, against me. Like a serpent moving through the sand. (The Humdrum sent a three-headed snake once—I chopped all three of them off.)

Ok this parallels are Simon’s brain trying to make sense out of the situation by treating it like a mission he has to fulfill because it is all he’s ever known

I hold Baz’s face in both my hands. Like he’s made of glass. Like he’d break. He won’t. I kiss him.

He holds me by the neck. He rocks and rocks and rocks into me. “Baz…” “Please, Simon.” “You don’t have to…” Is this, is this, is this what people do? Is this what he wants? Is this what I’m allowed to take?

I- I-

He’s rocking into me, and I need this to happen again someday in the light. I don’t know what Baz’s face looks like, like this, when he’s coming undone. And I can’t keep my eyes open anyway, when I’m coming against him. Is this, is this, is this … Is this magic? Is this enough?

I-

Is Simon okay? I mean, obviously, no, never. The real question is—what kind of not-okay is he at the moment? And what do I need to do to deal with it?

His understanding of simon is everything to me

Is he scared? Embarrassed? Overwhelmed? Did he even want that to happen? He’s never been with a guy, maybe he didn’t like it. Maybe it wasn’t what he was expecting.

It’s messier than being with a girl. (Isn’t it?) (I don’t know anything about being with girls.) (I don’t know anything about being with guys.) (I know a lot about furtively bashing one out while my roommate is off fighting magickal crime, then hoping he doesn’t wonder why I’m taking a shower in the middle of the afternoon.)

Basil be for real my man

I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. (Never a good sign. His brain is an engine that only overheats.)

All I want is to ride this out. To show him we can keep getting through every sort of breakdown together.

(Is that what this was? A breakdown? Is that how I’m going to have to file it away? Because that’s going to kill me a little.)

Are you okay?” He pets my cheek. His thumb ghosts over my bottom lip. “If you are.” I squeeze his neck. “That’s not how it works, Snow.” “Isn’t it?” Is it?

Simon kisses me. He’s still being so gentle. Maybe I’ll have to tell him that he can stop now. (Maybe I’ll never tell him.) “You’re being quiet,” he says. “Only because you’re kissing me.”

Fair point

“Baz … we kinda sorta had sex. And I didn’t cry or break anything.”

Ya va hermano esperate un segundo en que momento paso esto porque estoy confundida

“Babe…” he says. That’s new. That’s extraordinarily stupid. “Are you freaking out?”

“I’ve never done that before,” I say into his chin. “I know.” “I think I probably did it wrong.” “There’s not really a wrong—” “I know that’s not true, Snow.”

“Did something happen that you didn’t want to happen?” “No.” “Did you feel good?” “Yes, obviously.” “Me, too.

“I’m a mess,” I say. “I should—” “You should stay right here with me.

“Snow…” “I kinda want to tell you that you have to call me ‘Simon’ when we’re covered in spunk, but I don’t think I actually care anymore.”

I am so convinced i missed a few pages here because huh?

“Snow … why aren’t you freaking out?” He sighs. “Honestly?” I pull his hair again. “Because you told me what you wanted, Baz. I liked feeling like I was doing something for you.” “You weren’t doing it for you?” “No, I was, sort of in the background. Up front, I was doing something for you. I had a mission.”

At that, he pushes away from me and manhandles me onto my back, straddling my thighs and scrabbling at the bottom of my T-shirt. He’s laughing, so I laugh, too. “A mission…” I say.

Oh

He gets my shirt off, then grabs my hands, holding them over my shoulders. “Next time we go to Ikea,” he says, “we’re getting a lamp. I can hardly see you.” “I could use my wand…” “Keep it in your trousers, Merlin.”

El comediante y tal

Where is my shirt … “Basil!” someone shouts. That is definitely my aunt. “For fuck’s sake, Fiona,” I mutter. “Fiona?” Simon croaks.

Fiona girl what are you doing here

“Good morning, Nephew. I’m taking you to get a cuppa.” “How did you even find me here?” “I found you when you were buried under a bridge in a numpty den—did you think you could hide from me in Hackney Wick? Come on.” She looks serious.

“Are we really having tea, or do you need me for a crime? I can’t be your getaway driver if you won’t let me sit up front.”

Not an unreasonable question by any means

“And then she had you,” Fiona goes on. “And you were exactly the sort of child your mother would have—Crowley, you were such a charmer. Curious and headstrong and thoughtful. So thoughtful, even as a toddler. I remember looking at you and thinking, Well, of course Natasha has had the best possible baby.

Baby baz

“You had the best mum, Baz—you lost the best mum—and I knew that your dad and I would never make up for it.”

“When I hear you tell me what a shit aunt I’ve been, I think, Well, yeah, I’ve always been shit compared to Natasha. If she were here, she would have done a much better job with you!

Watford Netball’? Do boys play netball at Watford now, or are you shacking up with a bird?” I look down. Fucking Snow. Did he steal every one of Agatha’s school jumpers?

“Are you serious? You’re marrying that sleazy Kurt Cobain wannabe?”

“That’s the tape recorder, isn’t it?” I look up at her, speechless. Fucking Bunce.

Verga penelope callate hermano

I clear my throat. “Don’t you want to, um … change?” Baz looks down at himself and groans again.

Apparently this is another occasion that calls for a suit. Three pieces. A shade of brown that gleams red in the light. Baz buttons his white shirt all the way to the top, and puts on a shiny purple tie. (Why did he bring neckties and three-piece suits to my flat? What was he anticipating?)

daddy? Sorry daddy? Sorry daddy? Sorry

“We’re about to do something huge; shouldn’t we talk about it?” “Who are you, and what have you done with Simon Snow?”

Penny and Shepard are leaning against the living room wall, kissing. (I kind of feel like I’ve been cockblocking Penny all these years. As soon as I left her alone, this happened.)

“Did you already try, Baz?” “Yeah, I’m too upset to cast.” “Is that a thing?”

She points at me again. “Now you see it, now you don’t!” Nothing happens.

Oh fuck

what does it even mean to be immune to magic?

For real

“It’s got to be that spell he cast on you…” Baz is pacing. “I’m going to murder Smith-Richards. I’m already going to jail for Philippa’s voice. I may as well add this to my crimes.”

“Simon … love, I’m sorry. I know this is serious. But I have to catch Philippa before she leaves. I just…”

don’t believe you wanted to hurt Simon. I’ve never believed that.”

“Why not?” Baz demands. “Because if you wanted to hurt him, you would have! You had infinite opportunities! You’ve never cast a dangerous spell on him, Basil.

“It was an accident,” he says quietly, “when I pushed you down the stairs.” “I know,” I say. “I always kind of figured.” “You fucking menace,” he whispers. “You literally never shut up about it.”