𝗟𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗹𝘆

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Penelope's POV

The boys come to dinner looking like an absolute mess. Baz is walking weirdly, a little too rigid. Huh. And Simon's wearing a smirk, and a breathless sigh of contentment at the same time. Oh, oh, oh.

And only to disguise the fact that they walked in together Baz points his wand at Simon with a nefarious, irritated smirk and Simon puffs his chest at the whispered 'threat' (which was more likely to be a flirtatious comment); then Baz turns on his heels and walks away, after staring down at Simon in his usual Baz-like condescending attitude. He disguises his love so well, even I'm nearly fooled.

Simon plops down beside me staring at a table without all the scones offered.

"You-you didn't get me food?" Simon practically whimpers and I almost feel guilty.

"I'm not your—" shit, I was so close to saying mother to an orphan, "babysitter, Simon. Go get me some too!"

He huffs angrily and his cheeks are still flushed, they were ever since he came. "Fine, fine, fine!" He storms off, but the sly grin lingers on his lips, and only gets more pointed when he catches Baz's eye across the Dining Hall.

"Is this enough?" Simon asks confusedly upon returning with heaping plates of Roast Beef and so, so much Yorkshire Pudding.

"What army are you out to feed?" I ask him with wide eyes as he sets down multiple plates.

                 I can already picture Baz staring while quipping "Being the Chosen One is good cardio, Penelope. And maybe all those goats are rubbing off on him." Simon would only glare daggers at both of us as I justify: "See that's funny, because you spend all your time with Ebb and her goats."

It's a strange thought and feeling but I miss Baz.

And Simon and him keep exchanging glances like forbidden lovers. . .

"How are things going with you two?"

"Good, good." He answers with a rare shy and grateful smile. "I really. . . Love him, Penelope."

"Oh we're using the L-word now?"

"He's. . . I don't know, Pen, but I've never felt this way before. He's so beautiful, and caring. And he knows me. And he teases me, and helps me with my homework, and sneaks me snacks from Cook Pritchard. He's fun." Simon is still scooping food into his mouth, but finally he pauses and just looks at Baz, and sighs. A deep, contented sigh. One I've never heard from him before, because he's never felt relaxed and loved like this. He's never felt safe and happy like this.

"I'm happy for you, I didn't know he was like that." I say, and I can't identify what I'm feeling. I know that I'm happy for my best friend, but I also feel. . Empty?

And maybe that's why I change the direction of the conversation. . . "The Mage is around, did you hear?" I ask him as he shovels beef into his mouth.

"Nope. How'd you know?" Blonde brows shoot up, as he voices his question.

"Oh you know, Premal. He's already preparing to be a part of the Mage's Men. . . So I hear things around home, whenever mom calls." I tell him, wondering if the Mage will have any missions for us. Anything to do, really. I'm quite bored with all this recent quiet.

"Oh. I wonder what he's got going on with The Humdrum." Simon spews between mouthfuls of pudding.

"Yeah, you still haven't told him about the attack that Baz and I fended off, have you?"

"Nope." Again. Popping the 'p'. I wonder if he's done anything 'Chosen' related since he fell in love with Baz. And I know it's wrong to expect him to be responsible all the time, we're only sixteen. And he never got a childhood. Not at the orphanage, not here at Watford. And I mean. . . Baz has helped him pull his grades up. So I should give him a break.

But what am I feeling? Maybe this is just a burst of anxiety, because the quietness is so strange. And I. . . Feel a little lonely?

Maybe.

Or it could just be this week. . It was exhausting for all of us.

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