It's complicated// snowbaz✔️

Chapter 2

Simon

I wake up with a pounding headache and a sore back. I rub my eyes and roll over...

Why is Baz beside me? Where are my clothes? I don't think I'm supposed to be here. I look over at Baz and he looks so peaceful. It's weird, I'm not used to seeing him with his guard down like this. He's on his stomach, the blanket pushed down to his waist, showing off his pale back. There's a hickey on his neck, and I'm praying it wasn't me who placed it there. I slowly pull the duvet off my body and climb out of my bed. I know this shouldn't have happened, and if I wait for him to wake up I'll be forced to explain myself.

I fish around my drawers until I find some clothes and Advil. As soon as I've pulled on my sweatpants I see Baz stir, I freeze, my heart racing. He slowly sits up, looking to the side of the bed that I had woken up on. He looks puzzled and turns to face me. His face lights up, but freezes when we make eye contact. I stare right into him, not letting him see a single bit of me that's vulnerable.

"Snow?" He starts but trails off.

"What?" I sneer, I can't let him see how much this hurts me.

"Did, weren't you? Um..." He looks so confused and hurt, but I know that what he wants from me isn't what I want from him. He could never want me like I want him, he doesn't understand.

"Use your words, Baz." He frowns, recognizing the phrase I'm so used to hearing. I know I shouldn't be so aggressive, but it's a lot easier to move on from this if I can make him hate me.

"Didn't something happen last night? But you were drunk..." He frowns.

"I don't know what you're talking about. It must've been a dream." I shrug. I hate myself for denying this. I want him so bad, but I know this won't last he doesn't understand me and who I am. My life is too complicated to bring someone else into right now.

He frowns and wets his lips, looking like he'd crumble if I blew on him. Suddenly this feels wrong, I should've been honest, why do I feel the need to get so damn defensive? He pushes the duvet off his body, I force myself to not watch him walk across the room to our ensuite; force myself to not watch the way his muscles move under his perfect skin. I'm desperately searching for something to say to re-start the conversation, but nothing feels right. I decide to just be honest and apologize, I take a breath, then realize that Baz has already disappeared into our washroom and closed the door.

I sit down on my bed heavily and let out a sigh. I lay back down, my heart clenches as I feel the coolness Baz's body left behind on my sheets. Everything smells like him, and it makes everything so much more painful.

•••

Baz

I walk into the washroom with a sinking feeling in my gut. What if that really was just all a dream? It felt so fucking real though. I wash my face needing the cold water to clear my mind, but when I look up into the mirror my blood freezes in my veins. He left a fucking mark on my neck, but still has the audacity to deny what happened?! This isn't even anger at this point, it's rage. Pure unadulterated rage, I rush towards the door and swing it open, so ready to give him a piece of my mind, but I freeze in my tracks when I see him.

Simons laying in the spot that I had been sleeping in, eyes closed, but tears slowly leaking out of the corners of his eyes. Fuck, why does he have to make this so hard? "Snow?" I ask, not gently though. He doesn't get that anymore, but I still manage to keep it soft. He must not have heard me re-enter, because his whole body jumps at the sound of my voice.

"Baz..." he looks up at me from the bed, and he just looks so lost. All I want to do is hold him in my arms, and feel his beautifully alive heartbeat against my chest.

"What're we doing?" I ask, the silence that follows is heavy and feels like it's crushing me. He sits up, he's only wearing sweatpants, and it honestly feels like a slap in the face from the universe.

"I can't- this can't happen." He mumbles, eyes glued to the ground. I don't know what I was expecting, him to fucking sweep me up and call me his boyfriend?

"Okay." I don't bother to fight it because unlike all our other disagreements, this isn't something that shouting or fighting will make me feel better about.

"I'm sorry." His voice is so quiet it's almost inaudible.

"No, you aren't." I get up, not caring about the way I can feel his eyes watching me as I pull on the first pair of pants I find, and a jumper. I have to force myself to walk out of our room.

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Thanks to @simon_snow for editing this:) Hey, thanks for reading:) if you liked it please vote :) if you have any comments criticisms or suggestions I'd be happy to hear them:)