𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗹𝘆𝘇𝗲𝗱

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Simon's POV

It's not my fault I can't pay attention to anything in the world. Or even answer Penny's questions. She left my side after breakfast. I understand, and I do feel horrible. But I can't do anything. . . . Everywhere I look, there's twinkling silver eyes. Sharp, extended fangs. Supple pink lips. And yet, he's nowhere to be found. 

                 The only time I see Baz anymore is during our classes, but his gaze never once falls on me. I know because my persistent, desperate blue eyes refuse to look away from him. Our teachers keep calling me out, Penny keeps hissing my name, the rest of the students keep stealing glances. But I can't see past Baz. I can't see past his smoky grey eyes.

                 I gave up on talking a few days ago. Even senseless words can't find their way out of my mouth anymore. My tongue is frozen—paralyzed, missing the way Baz tastes. Even scones have lost their power over me. 

                 Penny worried about that the most. . . What in the Magickal World could keep Simon Snow from gobbling roast beef and Yorkshire pudding? Apparently a heart broken Baz.

                 My eyes stay glued to Baz's cold, empty bed every night. When it becomes apparent he isn't coming back, I start sleeping in it, hiding under his covers. Trying to drown in his familiar, comforting scent. Trying to breathe Cedar and Bergamot instead of oxygen. Trying to magick Baz back into his bed. Back into my arms.

                 The tears flow so often, I stop noticing them. Until Penny randomly sweeps a finger across my cheek every now and then. I can't even look her in the eye.

                 Baz won't look me in the eye. . . the second I get near him, he bolts. I'm no match for his vampire speed. Just a single glance in his direction, and my knees are weak. It's harder to stand, harder to even breathe. It's tearing me apart. 

                  I have to get him back. I know I said I'd give him space, but this feels like giving up. It feels like I'm abandoning him. His broken, conflicted grey eyes tell me as much. Baz really thinks it's over.

                  And he thought I cheated on him. . . he's so insecure, I know he's feeling worse. I know he's questioning what he's worth. And I caused it. 

                  My guts twisted and wrenched in pain every time I realized I did that to Baz. I did this to us. I should've ignored him and explained. He's so fucking stubborn he'll probably refuse to believe I love him now; especially with all the time we spent apart, these thoughts haunting us. His dead, silver eyes haunting me.

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