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“Baz?” Simon’s arms fell more gently around me. “Are you okay?” “I’m just very glad that you’re here.”
“Hello, Dev.” “Well, if it isn’t Basilton Pitch. Did you take a break from getting your cock sucked and remember that you have friends and family?” “Took a break from sucking cock, actually.” Simon’s head spun around. I shrugged, apologetically, and turned away from him in my chair.
So real
I think some greedy tosser wants to make sure I don’t inherit her Aston Martin.” “Your poor grandmother,” I said. “My poor car,” he replied.
Will you come out to the pub with us? Before term starts? You can even bring Snow. I heard he’s slowly turning into a dragon; can he still have a drink? Can he still take it up the—”
Shh don’t talk about baz’s sex life, god
“So Dev is your cousin…” he asked. “Huh. He doesn’t look Egyptian.” “Because he’s not.” “Aren’t you?” I was standing at the sink, filling the kettle, but I glanced Snow’s way. “You understand how cousins work, right?”
I stopped myself. This was probably too much information. Literally no one is as interested in Pitch family history as I am. But when I looked back at Simon, he was rapt.
Simon looked like I’d just given him huge news. “Baz … I didn’t know you were Italian.” I laughed.
“Circe,” I say. I’m trying to stop saying “Crowley”—Bunce says he’s problematic. (Which seems obvious, but whatever.)
may as well start somewhere. What’s her name?” “Lady Ruth Salisbury. She lives in Mayfair.”
Ohhhhhhh that is Simon’s grandmother omg
We need to look presentable.” For Baz, that means a full-on suit. Three pieces!
So hot.
he’s got a bright blue shirt on underneath—blue like butterfly wings and unbuttoned a bit low for visiting an elderly person. (If you want to know the truth, he looks good enough to eat. He’s looked good all day.
Such a slut i love him
You should see Baz when he first wakes up: His eyes always look sleepy, but when he’s actually sleepy, he looks like somebody trying to seduce you in a silent movie.
I take the coat. And his jeans, the shirt, the whole thing. Though I refuse a giant watch—and shake him off when he tries to arrange my hair. “For fuck’s sake.”
I’m a little worried that she’s so happy. Did all rich people hate the Mage as much as Baz’s family did?
smooth as silk. “Lady Salisbury?” “Yes?” she says, looking a bit concerned again. “My name is Basilton Grimm-Pitch.” “Grimm-Pitch … Natasha’s son?” “Yes.” “Oh!” She holds her hand over her heart.
La bicha esta en extasis
Would you like some cake? It’s homemade.” “Oh, no, we couldn’t,” I say. “Sure, we could,” Simon says.
He looks too handsome in my clothes. He looks too handsome in his own terrible clothes; he’s bloody unbearable in mine.
“Sure. I’d love an excuse to take off this coat.” You look very smart in that coat, I think. “You look very smart in that coat,” Lady Salisbury says.
Me rei
“I know Jamie is alive,” she says. “He’s in danger—but he’s still out there.” “You have a feeling?” Simon asks. “Mother’s intuition?” “No. I cast a spell.”
Of course she did
Plenty of mages are still loyal to you, Simon.” “To me?” “Oh, yes”—she smiles—“‘Snowvians.’” “No,” I say. “That’s not a thing.” “They think you’ll get your powers back and rise higher than ever.” “Hmm,” Baz says, looking down his nose at me. “I think I might be a Snowvian.”
I watch them from the window after we say good-bye. They aren’t halfway down the walk before the Pitch boy is taking the Chosen One’s hand. Ah, I’d heard as much.
nahh i love this
I’m glad he’s not alone in this. That he has someone to take his hand when they think old women like me aren’t looking. Can two boys do what the rest of the World of Mages won’t? Perhaps. They’ve done it before, haven’t they?
Baz glances around us. Nobody’s paying any real attention. There are a few girls checking him out, but there’s never any getting away from that.
So real
“Trust me,” Shepard says, “everyone in there will be minding their own business.” “Not you. You never mind your own business.” “That’s one of my unique charms, Penelope.”
“Penelope, it’ll be fine. Just stay behind me and stay quiet.” “Oh, is that a woman’s place?”
“We’re looking for someone with a special skill.” “My special skill is serving alcohol,”
Damn right
“That’s not even, like, from this dimension, you know? Like, this is not from Earth-616.
What is this ? Marvel?
“You were extremely helpful for someone who doesn’t care at all about anything outside of herself.” My head whips back to her. “Hey. You don’t even know me.”
“Everyone knows you, Agatha. You’re Simon Snow’s girlfriend. You’re the Chosen One’s chosen one. You so much as break a nail, and he burns down the Wavering Wood.”
So true
Most of them care more about who’s going to replace your boyfriend than—” I cut her off. “If you call him my boyfriend one more time, I’ll scream.” “Why? Are you engaged now? Are you Simon Snow’s fiancée?” “No! We broke up ages ago!
Funny
“It’s all anyone talked about for months.” “I don’t really pay attention to gossip…” she says. “Well, we broke up our last year at Watford, and now he’s with Baz Pitch. It was like boy–Romeo and Juliet.”
Funnier
“Simon Snow dumped you for a Pitch?” Niamh sounds thoughtful. “Which one, again?” “He didn’t dump me, actually, but—you know, Baz.
Even funnier
“What did he look like?” I turn back to her. Is she kidding? “Basilton Grimm-Pitch? The headmistress’s son?” “Oh, right…” She still looks uncertain. “Pale? Crooked nose?” “I mean, yes. But I’ve never heard him described that way.”
Even EVEN funnier
I’m this close to telling her how bad it looks that way. But she doesn’t deserve constructive advice.
Snow is on my last nerve. “I can’t just walk into a Chosen One rally as the defunct Chosen One!” “Then let me change your face,” I say for the tenth time. “I’m not letting you fuck with my face,”
“Then I’ll go to the Smith-Richards meeting by myself.” “You’re not going by yourself!”
“I’ll be fine, Snow. You can listen in on my cellphone.” He throws his hands in the air. “Oh, because that worked so well last time!” “It really did, if you’ll remember.
“I’m not sitting here and listening while you get yourself killed—or end up going on another date.” “For Chomsky’s sake,” I say. “It wasn’t a date.” It wasn’t. “You went out for ice cream.” “So what? Lamb wasn’t even interested in me in that way.” He really wasn’t.
Me rei
“He was trying to mentor me,” I say. “He could see I was clueless.” Simon huffs. “He could see that you’re hot.”
So true
“Well, I was actually there, and I didn’t get that vibe from him.” “You didn’t get that vibe from me either, Baz. You’ve got no vibe … check.”
Nahhh jajjajajjajja
I hook my free arm around his waist and sit up straight, so I can knock my forehead against his. “Do you want me to take you out for ice cream? Is that what this is about?”
I'm Weak
“I’m sorry I put you through it that night.” He’s still making a miserable face at the floor. “I would have understood, Baz—” “Crowley, Snow, I need you to promise that you won’t keep bringing this up.”
Simon flinches, and whips his tail out of my hand. “Stop.” “Sorry,” I say quickly. “Did that hurt?” “No, it…” He looks uncomfortable. “I just don’t like that feeling. That, like, feathery feeling. Like, touch me or don’t—but don’t, like, whisper on me.”
“Is this better?” He licks his bottom lip. He’s embarrassed. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t need you to do it at all.” “That’s not what I asked.”
“you didn’t notice he was fit?” “I didn’t care,” I say. “A lot of people are fit.” “Not like him.” “Fuck, Snow, maybe I’m the one who should be jealous.” Simon rolls his eyes.
“It’s all right,” I say. “If you need me to keep saying all this out loud, I will.” He shakes his head, like he’s irritated—possibly with me, possibly with himself. “You keep telling me everything is all right, that whatever I need is fine…” I nod. “That’s correct. I’m glad you’re finally hearing me.”
Fuck
baz HOW DL I GET YOU IN MY LJFE fr
“I just don’t think it’s true.” “Simon—” I pull him in closer, I wish he’d open his eyes. “—of course it’s true. All you’ve asked of me so far is kindness.”
JAabsg
Is it wrong that I like him like this? Afraid, insecure, worried—but turning to me for comfort? Letting me hold on?
“What if I asked you to be less kind to me?” “What?” I draw my head back. “Why?”
