Don't Leave Me

Don't Leave Me:: Part 3

The inside of the coffee shop is warm and bustling with people. Soft music hums gently in the background. The air smells sweet; like coffee and baked goods, and a bit like that drink Baz likes so much. The one that tastes like a melted candy bar. 

We find a table and set our things down, taking off our jackets and scarves. Baz and I leave Penny there and join the short queue to order. 

As soon as we're out of earshot, I turn on him.

"Baz... please  tell me what's wrong?" My voice sounds so childish and pleading, even to my own ears... but I don't care. I just want some answers. For once.

 Baz bites a thin, grey-pink lip, not quite meeting my gaze. 

"There's nothing wrong, Snow," his voice is too soft, like if he raises it he'll shatter into a million pieces. Dissolve into dust and be blown away by the storm outside. I groan, running my fingers through my tangled hair exasperatedly. 

"Fuck, Baz, don't--" 

"Can I help you, sir?" I'm interrupted by an overly cheerful voice. We both look up. 

The girl behind the counter is watching us expectantly. She's pretty, and a younger me would've flirted with her-- albeit ineptly. However, there's (obviously) been some new developments since then. And by developments I mean the lying prat standing next to me. A lying prat with the power to make my insides turn to jelly, but a lying prat nonetheless. 

Baz straightens the cuffs of his expensive jacket and smooths his hair back away from his face. I wish he wouldn't do that; I quite like his hair, especially when he lets it fall in a lazy black wave over his forehead. His pale face assumes an expression of complete calm.

"Yes, you can," he says coolly. I actually get gooseflesh at the frigid temperature of his voice, and I'm glad that he hasn't used a voice like that on me in a long, long while. Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch is a tempest strong enough to match the storm raging outside. 

A tempest that, predictably, orders a Pumpkin Mocha Breve. That little detail makes a small, irresistible smile tug at one corner of my lips, though I do my best not to let him see it. Baz and his fancy drinks...

We order a cuppa for Penny, and I get some drink with a fancy name I can't pronounce. Then we trudge back to the table, our moods hanging darkly above us like thunderclouds, the conversation the girl at the counter cut off crackling through the air like lightning. Penny looks up at us when we arrive, and her brow furrows like the mood is a tangible thing. I've always wondered how she does that-- how she can immediately judge a person's mood. 

"It's just basic psychology, Simon," The Penelope in my head tells me.

"Sounds more like magic to me, Penny," I reply.

"Here's your tea, Penny," I say out loud, trying to distract her from us and my brain from her. She raises an eyebrow, but takes the cup without complaint.

"So, Bunce, what time are you leaving tomorrow?" Baz asks, sitting down. His voice sounds so calm; you'd have to really know him in order to hear the tinge of worry creeping in around the edges. It's enough worry that, despite everything, I take his hand under the table. Penny is Baz's friend, too. And I don't doubt in any way that he'll miss her. He replaced Agatha in our little trio, and he's completely filled in the holes she left-- no, he hasn't just filled them. Baz has filled those holes ten times over and more. Anyway, my point is, he's good friends with Penelope, too, and I can tell he's trying not to be sad that she's leaving.

"Wow, trying to get rid of me already?" she teases in reply. Baz smiles, and I watch him. I watch the muscles in his cheeks pull the corners of his lips up. Watch the way his eyes crinkle at the corners. One of these days, maybe when he's stopped acting like something's wrong, I'm going to kiss him there. Right on the corners of both eyes.