Happy Tuesday, friends. :) Enjoy!
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Baz's POV
"Okay, um... How about this one?" I point to a red splotch on the back of Simon's hand as we both giggle uncontrollably. With every laugh, I feel his stomach kicking against my arms as I hold him fast around the waist.
"Uh..." He stops to release an adorable giggle. "I'm pretty sure that one came from accidentally touching a hot scone pan at Watford. I just couldn't wait I guess." I push my forehead in to his bare back, both of us doubling over with laughter.
"Understandable, I suppose," I choke out.
This has become a game of ours. Simon seems to have an unfathomable amount of scars on his body and it's my mission in life to know exactly how he contracted every single one of them. Each one is like a little window in to Simon's past. They all mean something and contain a memory. Simon doesn't seem to mind me pestering him about his limitless scars (though I'm certain that the only reason that he doesn't mind is because it always ends in uncontrollable laughter at his countless blunders).
I spot one on his hip now, and jump at the chance to ask him about it.
"This one?"
He hesitates.
"You know, I actually don't remember that one... probably just some ridiculous, clumsy incident like all of the rest." He lets out a single artificial chuckle. I'm immediately skeptical.
"Come on, Simon. You have to know where it came from. It's kind of huge." I graze the rather large mark on his skin. "Where'd it come from?"
"Um... Well. It's kind of embarrassing."
"Oh, come on! Even more embarrassing than the one on your ass that you got from tripping over a dog in the park? More embarrassing than the one on your shoulder from literally falling in to a pond during first year? Why is this one so much worse? Just tell me."
I don't have to be looking at his face to know that he's rolling his eyes at me and sighing, just like he always does when he's exasperated.
"Point taken... Alright. I'll tell you," He wiggles out of my arms and turns to face me. Our noses mere centimeters apart, he continues. "That one is... weirdly special to me. Because I got it from when, um, from when you...from when you pushed me down the stairs." I immediately gasp.
My eyes immediately fill with tears. Though they feel more like acid. I did that. I left a permanent blemish on the love of my life. I hurt him. That mark is going to be there... forever. A constant reminder that I caused him pain. I take one final glance at the splotch on his hip before burying my face in my hands.
"Baz, stop. It's fine." Simon nudges my arm.
Tears are pouring down my face as I mutter, "I hurt you. And now... you're never going to forget it. Because there's a constant reminder on your own skin."
"Hey," Simon says, wiping the tears off of my face with his wrist. "Stop. Baz, all of those things are true. I can't lie. You did hurt me. But that's all okay now. You prove to me every single day that you've changed and that it's never going to happen again. You don't even have to apologize because you already have. Every singe day."
He wraps his lanky arms around me now, pulling my head in to rest in the crook of his neck. I let him hold me like that for several minutes as I regain control and let my tears dry.
"Okay now?" Simon whispers eventually. I nod.
"One more thing though."
"Mm?" Simon hums, placing a gentle peck on my nose.
"Can we, like, pretend that you got it from something else? I don't know, like falling down a flight of stairs while I was waiting to catch you at the bottom?"
"Oh, Baz." He chuckles, leaning forward to press his lips against mine. It's the breathtaking kind of kiss. The kind that I wish would never have to end. But it does.
"You did catch me."