If You Must Coalesce

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After about a fortnight in hospital (Simon got to leave after three days, the lucky bastard), the doctors finally declare Fiona and I well enough to go home. I'm aching to sleep in my own (or Simon's) bed again; I've barely slept at all since arriving here. My father and Daphne visited a lot, which is all well and good, but on the occasions that they brought the kids along, rest was out of the question. So I caught catnaps when it was just Simon or Penny, and Simon gave me magickal energy-boosts when I really needed it. 

So, yes. I am extremely ready to go home. 

A couple of nurses wheel Fiona and I out to the car, Simon watching the process like a hawk. I sneak glances at him the whole time, turning away quickly whenever he catches me looking. I feel eleven years old again; nothing more than a child with a massive crush on a boy with wild bronze curls and rosy cheeks and these big blue eyes that won't let me look away.

Simon Snow. The boy I'm going to marry. (I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I'm living a charmed life). I get a thrill every time I look at him; an electric shock deep in my stomach that heats my cheeks and sets my hair on end. I'm going to marry Simon Snow. I feel myself grinning just thinking about it.

"Shotgun!" Fiona calls out, intruding on my thoughts (rude). Raising an eyebrow, I place a hand on the car door, stopping her from getting in.

"Oh no you don't," I drawl, enjoying every syllable, "the front seat is for people who haven't been kidnapped by mad fucking shadow creatures." 

Fiona stares at me, mouth agape. I wink at her in return.

"Basil," she growls, grumpy as ever, "it kidnapped you, too! Besides, I'm older, so I win by order of seniority." She tries to push past me, but I don't let her. I can hear Simon laughing from inside the car (good to know I'm not the only one enjoying this). 

Leaning in close to Fiona, I let a deviant, shit-eating grin spread across my lips. 

"It kidnapped you first."

Quickly, before she can react, I open the door and swing inside, taking the seat. My aunt stares at me for a second, rage and amusement fighting for dominance on her freckled face. I suppress my own laughter, waiting for her reaction. 

"You little twat! I knew I should've gotten rid of you when I had the chance..." she finally grumbles, sliding into the backseat. "You're nothing but trouble, you are." 

Giggling, I look back at her over my shoulder. 

"That's what makes me so fun."


Author's note:

Hello, my lovely readers! Sorry for the crazy hiatus, but it took me a lot longer to recover from getting my wisdom teeth removed than I thought it would (it's really hard to write when you're high on hydrocodone). I had hoped that I would finish this before school started again for me, but it looks like that's not going to happen. However, I am close to the end! If you have any suggestions or ideas for the sequel, I'd love to hear them!

I've started two new books on Wattpad in the past couple of days, and you should check them out (I apologize for the self-advertising, but it's a necessary evil)! One is called "Allow Me to Insult You", and it's just an art book of my (insulting) little pen doodles. The second one is called "Belladonna", and it's about a reporter who's sent to write about a mysterious, yearlong event called 'the Hunt' in what used to be the Pacific Northwest (the area seceded from the United States after World War III, and is now a female dominated and self-sustained country called Belladonna). The book features LGBTQ+ themes, and I think it's gonna be really cool. 

You guys are the best!



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Here, have a Simon-esque insulting doodle.

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