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

by Rainbow Rowell

“I didn’t come here to say I’m sorry—I came to tell you that you were right!” He didn’t even flinch when I grabbed him. He’s sneering down at me like I’m miles beneath him. “Of course I was,” he says. He shoves me back and slams the door in my face.

Icon behavior if you ask me

“What was I right about?” I demand. “And you better make this clear and to the point, for once in your magic-forsaken life.”

“I’ve just been waiting for you to get tired of me,” I say. “Since the day I lost my magic. Before that, even. I never thought—” I shake my head. “I never really thought this would work.”

“I thought you’d go down fighting if you believed in something…” He’s right, he’s always right. I look him in the eye. “I never believed in us.”

Punch me I'd hurt less

I didn’t think there was anything left that Simon could say to hurt me … I was wrong. I laugh and wipe my eyes. “Seven snakes,” I say. “What a thing to hear. Fuck, Snow…” I bring my arm up and laugh into my elbow, sobbing.

“I didn’t try,” he says, “because I thought it would be worse if I tried. I told myself to enjoy it—you—while I could. But that didn’t work.

“I just wanted to, like, make it happen,” he says. “To like, charge into it and get it over with. Whenever we were together, I just wanted to get it all over with.” I laugh again. The hits keep coming.

“Baz”—his voice is small—“do you think it would have been different if I’d tried?”

Berro tu que crees simon piensa un poquito nada mas

That he was the first thing I ever gave up on. He’s right.

Why haven’t I ever fought for Baz? What would happen if I did?

he’s looking at me the way he did in my flat last night, like I’ve got a knife in his heart, and I’m holding it there. Then his head falls forward a bit, and he tilts it away from me. “Come on,” he says softly. “Come in.”

Nooo it's the way baz loves simon so damn much he's willing to let him explain himself for ghe sake of blind hope

My voice is getting haughty again, I can’t help it. “The question on the table is whether it would have mattered, to our relationship, if you had tried?”

“Of fucking course it would have mattered!” I say. “What kind of question is that?”

"de bolas que si" - tyranius basilton grimm pitch

“I was trying,” I say. “Every minute.” Simon nods. “I know. I’m sorry.” “Don’t.” “All right. Sorry. I mean. Just—” Use your words, Snow.

“How would it have been different if I’d tried?” I huff out a breath. “I can’t answer that. How would I know that?” “Baz…” “What do you want from me, Snow?”

“I just—” “You just.” “I mean—” “You mean.” I wonder if I sound cruel. I wonder if I mean to be. “I want to try!”

I’m so bad at this. At people. At him. I shouldn’t have come here.

I stand up— His hand latches on to my wrist. “Don’t you dare.” I sit down again. “Okay. Sorry.” Baz doesn’t let go.

“What does that mean?” He sounds careful. “That y...

“Try. With you. To see … if it could be different.” “Why?” “Because I don’t want to give up.” Baz scowls up at me. “Am I a video game you’re trying to beat?” “No!”

He pulls on my arm, but doesn’t pull me close. “Then why?” “Because you were right! I didn’t try. I gave up on us. And I can’t—I can’t live with myself—” “I don’t care!”

Stand your ground baz

“I want to … try. Because—Because I love you, Baz. I love you, and I didn’t think that I could keep you. But if there’s a chance … If there’s any chance at all … I can’t—I want—I need—

My heart

I drop my hands and look up at him, desperate for a clue. Baz’s mouth is slightly open, and his eyebrows have pulled up in the middle. “You … love me?”

Stop stop stop stop stop

“Yeah,” he says, “of course.” Like it’s obvious. It isn’t obvious. It has not been obvious. “You never said,” I say. “Haven’t I?” “No.” He frowns. “I thought—I mean … I’ve killed so many things for you.”

No way

He reaches a hand up towards my face, then hesitates. I hesitate, too—I feel torn in every direction—then I slowly close the distance. Snow’s thumb connects with my chin. He tucks his knuckles under my jaw. He swallows, and it’s a whole show. “I do,” he says. “Love you.”

Fuck

“What about … everything else?” “What else?” “Everything you said last night. About magic.” “Oh. Well, I meant all of that. I still mean it.” I shake my head. “Fucking hell, Snow.” He holds on to my chin. “I don’t want to live in the World of Mages, Baz—I want a Normal life. But maybe we could, like, meet in between?” “In between.” “Like, you do your thing. Magic. And I’ll do mine. And we don’t have to talk about it all the time.”

“You said it makes you miserable, that I remind you of everything you’ve lost.” “Well, I can work on that.” “Can you?” “Yeah…”

“Maybe when I feel that way, I’ll turn it into being glad that I didn’t lose you, as well.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “This is you trying, isn’t it?” “I suppose.” There’s a lightness in his expression that I haven’t seen for so long. I want more of it. Even if I can’t trust it.

“If we do this”—my chin hits his palm with every syllable—“I want the full Simon Snow treatment.” “What does that mean?” “I want the locked jaw. The squinty eyes. The shoulders.” He wrinkles his forehead. “The shoulders?” “I want you to slay a dragon before you give up on me, do you understand?”

This is what you deserve baz

I press my hands into Snow’s chest and clutch them in his jumper. “I want you to try everything before you give up on us again.” He rubs his thumb below my lip. “I won’t give up, Baz. Unless you tell me to. Unless you’re, like, really clear that you want me to. And even then, I won’t give up. I’ll just persist from a distance.”

*sobs*

“You can’t put me through this again, Simon. I don’t want to spend my whole life, losing you. Watching you slip away. I never want to come home to another note.” “You won’t.” He shakes his head. “I promise. I won’t.”

I cant omg

I wish I could believe him—what would it take for me to believe him? And what do I need in the meantime, what am I willing to withstand? (How would someone with pride answer these questions…)

baz ily

“I’m not saying you have to stay with me forever. But you can’t just give up without a fight.” “I’m so sorry, Baz.” I push and pull on his jumper. His forehead thunks against mine. I nod. “Okay,” I whisper. “Okay?” he whispers back. “Okay, Snow. We’ll try. We’ll try this with you trying.”

“Christ, I’m so scared.” “Already? Don’t we get a day of clinging to each other before things fall apart again?”

“I don’t know how not to be afraid that you’ll leave me.” I scoff. “I won’t leave you. When have I ever left?”

Punching the air

“You can’t know how it will be,” he says, head hanging. “Over time. You might not want me once you don’t have to worry about me leaving.” Who even knew Simon was capable of such mental gymnastics? “You have a real genius for catastrophizing, Snow.”

Omg

“I’m not going to get tired of you.” “You can’t know that,” he says, bumping my nose with his forehead. “I can. Look at me.” I catch his chin. I wait for his blue eyes to settle on mine. “This thing between us didn’t start with us dating. It didn’t even start when you kissed me. You’re in me so deep, I wouldn’t know how to dig you out. I may get fed up with you … But, Simon, I’ll never get tired of you.”

BASILTON HOW DO I GET YOU IN MY LIFE GOD

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Snow. You’re not allowed to feel sorry for yourself as long as you get to have me.” I mean it. I’m thinking about kissing him, to drive the point home, but I’m gun-shy and unsure of my permissions.

Screaming crying

Maybe we have to build back up to kissing. Maybe Snow needs a high-speed chase to get him in the mood. I’m thinking about it. About what I’m allowed. And what I deserve. And what I can stand— And then he kisses me. I kiss him back. And back. And back.

NO WORDS bye

I was worried that Baz wouldn’t want to kiss me—but it turns out, that wasn’t an issue.

He held my face with both hands, and I held his, and we kissed until my chin hurt from pushing into him. Baz can probably kiss for days without getting sore. With his superhuman vampire chin. His lips don’t even get puffed up.

We’ve stopped kissing now, but we’re still holding on to each other. I think we’re ...

“Pfft, I look like that Disney character with the droopy eye.” He stares at me for a second. “Quasimodo?” “Yeah, him.” He rolls his eyes again.

“We should take a shower,” I say. Baz raises an eyebrow.

Oh?

My cheeks get hot. “I mean, we should both take showers. Like you said.

Oh

Snow has never been to my flat, not in all the time we’ve been together—too far from his beloved sofa, I assumed. Also, I suppose there was the risk of my aunt trying to kill him if she found him here.

(Fiona still hasn’t forgiven Simon for being the Mage’s No. 1 henchman and for helping to arrest some of my second cousins.) (I mean, fair enough.)

I dig out some clean clothes for Simon to borrow and point him towards the bathroom connecting my room and Fiona’s.

Wait a damn minute, descrkbe ghat layout again?

I hear it from the kitchen when the shower stops. It takes me back to Watford. To lying in my bed, knowing Snow had just finished his shower. Bracing for him to come out, all damp and surly. Telling myself that I wasn’t going to look at him. That I wasn’t going to care. And always doing both.

Oh he's whipped

“I can fix that shirt for you—” “I don’t want to ruin it.” “I don’t mind.” I don’t. Then it would be his shirt, and he might wear it again. My name on his back, my number.