Breathless...

𝗜 𝗰𝗮𝗻'𝘁 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲

                And although I keep telling everyone this, I don't think I quite believe it myself. Baz was closer to dying that night. (His plan backfired. The chimera turned on him.) No one is strong enough to beat a chimera by themselves, but Baz didn't give a shit. He practically sang spells and burst fire out of his palms, while I just went off. Typical. That, however, is the reason we survived. And even though he complained that I singed his eyebrows, (They still looked perfect, by the way.) his silver eyes were softer—soft. I have no other memory of gentle looks from Baz to compare with. . . Except maybe one.

                "And he hasn't touched you since then." Penelope points out. Forget touch, he's been quite nice to share a room with because of the chimera, too. He won't complain if I open the windows, even though he's cold; he'll let me practice with my sword on his side of the room; he's even helped me with some homework. (Albeit sneering the entire time. But we also shared a rare couple laughs. Then he sneered again, I mean—he wouldn't be Baz if he didn't.)

                Penny's voice drags me away from Baz. I haven't told her he's being nice. I haven't been able to explain my slightly better grades either. She might expect me to stop blabbering about him plotting if she finds out. And I don't know if that is quite possible. . . Me shutting up about Baz, that is. Considering the fact that he is evil.

               "Si, I don't think he's capable of murder, he's fifteen. Plus, his mother was murdered! How do you think he would feel about murdering?" She poses it as a question but she's giving me a 'the answer is fucking obvious' look.

               Unfortunately though, the look won't change the fact that Baz and I are destined to kill each other. That the World of Mages pitted us against each other when we were only kids. Eleven. He represents all the powerful aristocracy; and I, the Mage. I'm supposed to be revolution according to the Mage.

               I'm Foretold, I'm the Chosen One. But Baz's family doesn't care. They were practically magickal royalty, and they want their throne back. And he makes sure I know I'm 'the worst Chosen One that's ever been chosen," Baz lost more than power and influence though. (Both of which he still has a lot of.) He lost his mother.

                And the Crucible gave him me instead. To be his roommate. 'To know him as well as a brother.'

                 Well I know him all right. But there is nothing brotherly about it. I don't know who he is through midnight conversations, and pleasant or teasing exchanges over dinner. (I've never even had dinner with him.) I've never seen him being anything other than snarky, really. I know him because I've shamelessly followed him, desperately trying to figure out his plot. How he plans to end my life.

                 "He's just an arsehole, Simon. He's also failing this year for the chimera incident. . . Which means, drum roll please!" She taps her fingers on the table with great enthusiasm, "I'm top student of the year!"

                  I'm not going to argue with her. And besides, my talking-about-Baz minutes are over. Penelope would gut me if I continue.

                 "Well, would you also like to be best friend of the year?!" I rush out with pleading blue eyes and as much enthusiasm, banishing the dark thoughts. She catches on, rolling her eyes.
I laugh, scanning the Hall for Baz's jet-black widow's peak; while Penny waves her gaudy purple ring over my scones casting a "Some like it hot!" I am so glad Penelope likes me. 

                   Anyway, where is Baz?

                  Fuck Baz time limits, "Hey, Pen," I blubber with scones stuffed in my mouth, "Have you seen Baz? He isn't here, and he wasn't in our room when I woke up either."

                  She sighs. She does that a lot around me. "I think I saw him with Dev and Niall heading to Mummers house," I guess Baz is just seeing his friends then. Or maybe plotting against me, with their help!

                 During my internal rage, the scone (with practically molten butter) in my hand slips. And I didn't quite notice that my white collared shirt was stained yellow until Penny started glowering when I dropped even more butter in the process of tossing it in my mouth. "Simon!!"

                "Shit, shit, shit. . . this is my only clean uniform," I try dabbing the stain with a napkin but that only makes it worse. Figuring Baz would have a field day with this stain, I decide to change and run to Mummers after telling Penny I'll head to class with her afterwards. . . even though I don't really have clothes to change into.

Leaping up the stairs, I think I'll just ask Baz for one of his shirts; I s'pose he might punch me or drain all of my blood with his fangs (alleged fangs, according to Penny)—if he does then the roommates Anathema will kick him out—but maybe I'll have something to wear, even if Baz is taller than me (only three inches, mind you) and we're not exactly the same size, but at least his clothes will never have butter stains.

                He's too posh.

                Tosser.