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“Because it makes me feel mental. It’s like being touched too lightly. Makes me feel like I’m being turned inside out. Like I need to get away.” I pull his tail through my hand, firmly. I press my other hand into his back. I push my nose hard into his ear. “No,” I say. “I won’t do that.”
“No,” I repeat. “I can touch you less gently, but I won’t love you less kindly.”
Punching the air
I brace myself for whatever he’s going to say next … I’m more used to guessing what Simon is thinking—what he’s feeling, what he wants. Bracing myself against his silence, wave after wave of it. That’s how our relationship has worked so far.
He promised to try, and he is trying, and he keeps taking me off guard. First I don’t know what’s coming, and then I don’t know what’s hit me … And I can’t believe how much better it is. Bracing for something instead of more nothing. I wait for it …
Then his gaze drops to my mouth. He moves towards me slowly, and I part my lips to get ready for him. He kisses me. I kiss him back, squarely. Firmly. Matter-of-factly. You’re all I want, I think. And you can have everything you need.
Aaaaa
I’m not sure what he’s telling me with this kiss. I pretend it’s Yes and Yes and Be kind to me.
I can't
Fine, you fucker. Have me. Just have me. Do your worst, you stubborn twat. Be the death of me. You’ll be the death of me.
Punching the fucking air
We should sit like this more often—I like the way Baz looks, looking up at me.
Baz pulls my left leg over his and then does the same with my right. As soon as he has them settled, he puts his arms around my waist again. It’s fuckin’ cosy is what it is.
ME FUCKING WHEN
“Snow … we’ve got a few minutes”—he pulls on me again—“before we have to leave.” “All right, I’m ready.” “No, I mean…” Baz moves his head from side to side like he’s trying to find words for something.
Si soy
“No matter what happens right now,” he says, his eyes on my chin, “we have to stop in a few minutes. So you don’t have to—you don’t have to worry about it going too far. Or being too much.” Oh.
<3
“Lean into it,” he whispers. My shirt is untucked. He slides one cool hand under it, just above my tail. I lean forward to kiss him. “Just for a few minutes,” he says, before I reach his mouth. “I’ll tell you when.”
Ndjjasnbsiand
I bought us both muffins. “All you’ve eaten today is cake,” Baz says. “I had toast for breakfast. Toast isn’t cake.”
si
Baz didn’t get even a little mussed up tonight when we went hunting. (Apparently he works more cleanly when I’m not talking about my previous sexual partners.) (Partner.)
Me rei
“If he touches you,” Baz murmurs, “I’m eviscerating him.”
<3
Don’t listen to anyone who tries to discourage you. Remember—they’re used to you as you are.
He looks like Simon, frankly. But more Simony than Simon. He looks like the guy who would get cast to play Simon in the Netflix series. No bloody thank you.
“You don’t understand, Basil; you’ve always been powerful. You’ve always lived up to your parents’ standards—to the world’s standards.” “I think you know that’s not true,” I say meaningfully. Daphne knows I’m a vampire, even though she’d never say it out loud. And further, she knows I’m queer as a clockwork orange, and that we’re not allowed to say that out loud either.
Apparently one mention of Smith-Richards is all it takes to make Daphne forget her motherless children and her ruined estate.
“Your father hasn’t exactly been supportive…” “Can you blame him?” “Yes, Basil, I do blame him! If there was a way for you to heal yourself, I would support you, even if the means were unorthodox.” (Genuinely not sure whether she means the vampire thing or the gay thing.)
I think Kipper just wanted to see Shepard again. (Merlin, am I jealous?
“Penelope!” he shouts after me. I keep walking. He keeps shouting. “I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t want you to think I was in a relationship!”
I thought we’d brief Lady Salisbury, then head back to Simon’s flat to plan our next move. (And maybe to kiss.
Anything worth believing in should stand up to some interrogation!” She hits the table again. “Truth doesn’t burn in the sunlight!”
“Maybe we both go to your flat, and instead of changing, you pick up some clothes?” “And then I…” I’m afraid to say it even though he’s the one saying it. “… stay with you?” He nods quickly, licking his bottom lip. “Yeah.”
“I’m much better at pushing you away than pulling you close. Are we allowed to be together all the time? Or is that too much? Just tell me if it’s too much.”
His eyes are scrabbling on mine. I try to give him whatever it is he’s digging for. “Yeah?” he says. “It isn’t too much, Snow.”
Is this what people do when they’re in love? Do they just keep touching and talking? And then what? Like what is it all leading to? I don’t mean sex, I mean …
I’m living second by second. All of this with Baz is petrifying. All of this without Baz is intolerable. I’m just making whatever decision I have to make in the moment to keep him in the picture, even though I can’t look at the whole picture without shitting myself.
I just told him to come home with me. A few days ago, I broke up with him.
I’ve got my arm slung around his shoulder. There’s at least one guy giving us a dirty look, and I kinda hope he speaks up, because I would dearly love to punch something right now.
“Fiona … Did you just hide a man from me?” “No,” she says. “You did.” “Big talk from someone hiding a man at this very moment.”
nahhh jajjaa
“Fuck me,” I say. “Are you vaping?”
I have a garment bag somewhere—would that make this arrangement too formal? Too real? Would Simon feel better if I just threw a few things into a duffel and called it good?
Oh basilton the man (vampire) that you are
(Am I really doing this? Taking pants to Simon Snow’s flat?) I rest my hand on a stack of boxer briefs and clear my throat.
Still puffing on her nicotine whistle like a second-rate Instagram influencer.
I don’t think she thinks about me liking her … So I try not to do that either.
“Who are you texting?” I ask. “My other boyfriend. The one who texts back.”
Burn
“I’m texting Bunce,” he says. “Like I have time for another boyfriend … Your dysfunction is a full-time job.”
“She texted me back to say that she’s trying to respect your needs. I told her you needed a kick in the arse; that I’ve already delivered it; and now we need her help.”
So real
Baz grabs me by the waist and starts shoving me backwards towards the bedroom.
O
“Shut up, Snow, I’m going to have my way with you on the Mage’s bed.” He pushes me through the door, and I fall back onto the mattress.
Oh
“Is that a turn-on?” I watch him take off my other shoe. “The Mage’s bed?” “Yes,” he says, throwing both shoes towards the door. “Because I hate him, and anything that would piss him off is a turn-on.” He climbs over me.
I-
“So that’s what this is, spite?” “Hm-mm.” Baz kisses my neck. “Spite. Look where the Mage’s golden boy is now…” “Depowered,” I say. “Deposed. Hackney Wick.” Baz sits up, right on my stomach. I grunt and try to push him off.
Baz i em
Is this what people do? They just keep talking and touching?
Baz catches my hand. He brings it to his mouth and kisses the inside of my wrist, without looking away from my eyes. It makes me feel … I don’t know.
Love your use of words snow
Baz reaches a hand up and pets my chest. I don’t have much hair there, not like him—he’s got a proper spread across his pecs and a black stripe down his belly.
No he does not
“I should have found you,” I say. “Your aunt should have told me you’d been kidnapped.” “Snow, you hated me then.” He’s stroking the back of my hair. “You probably would have sent the numpties a thank-you note.” I pull back. I find his grey eyes. “I would have slaughtered them. I was out of my head with worry.”
Ahhh amo
“You hated me,” he says again, more softly. “Yeah … but I wouldn’t have let anyone hurt you.”
Oh i died
I get lost fast when we’re kissing. I want more of it. All of it. I want the lethal dose.
