𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗲𝗱

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Baz's POV

Blue eyes burn into mine. A thick, swirling blue. And even though he's all the way across the pitch, his gaze is so intense. It snatches my breath, despite the betrayal. And I can't look away.

          Nothing new about that. . . .







Simon's POV

A cold, hard stare. Smoldering grey. It's like every dark, stormy night is trapped in his eyes. Dying to escape, to spark and unleash—the same way his magick does. Like a drag and light. His eyes the same hazy, charcoal grey as the smoke he blows.

           He's got me paranoid. Tied to a leash—helpless, following him everywhere.





Baz's POV

My heightened hearing picks up on his heartbeat. His wondrous, alive heart is thundering in his chest. My eyes pick up on every ray of sunlight streaking his tight bronze curls. Every freckle splattered on his face. His glowing caramel skin. The smell of cherry scones hanging off my hoodie.

             I hate Snow. And yet, he's got me wrapped right around his little finger. Bound to him. Hopelessly in love with him. . . .





Simon's POV

Baz raises his chin, jutting it in defiance. Pinches his perfect, dark, manicured brows together. And something churns in his expression. In his stance.




Baz's POV

I'll be damned if I stay here for a second longer. This is enough weakness for a day. Enough disappointment for a lifetime.




Simon's POV

And he bolts.

             I'm left standing there, staring. Until he becomes a blur of black hair, snowy skin and Watford colors in the distance. I sigh.



Baz's POV

I turn and sprint. Vampire speed.

           Until Simon Snow is only a speckle of gold behind me. Only a figment of my imagination. Only an ancient prophecy.

           Not the love of my life. Not the very real boy, whose arms I want to drown in. Not the one I want to die kissing.

            If only the legends said the Chosen One was meant to be mine. . . . If only he was prophesied to love me instead.


Simon's POV

Oh, there is no way in fucking hell. No fucking way I am letting him avoid me once more. This is it. This is the last time I'm letting him go.

            I'll run him down, knock him over, pin him the fuck down if that's what it takes but I will catch up to him if it's the last fucking thing I do.

           There is nothing more important. I don't need to obey the Mage. I don't need to fight a war against the Pitches. I don't need to defeat the Humdrum right now.

            Fuck prophecies and whatever Romeo-Juliet style doom he thinks awaits us.

            I need to tell Baz how much I love him. I need to do that.

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