BAZ
I'm going to lose it. As always, it's Snows fault. He won't leave me alone. It's so weird, but I'm almost getting use to the consistent thrum of his magic around me. It's like I've built up a tolerance to it. Even Bunce isn't as used to it as I am. (Specifically noted for how glassy her eyes get the closer Snow is to his tantrums.)
I'd be laughing at the thought, except for the fact that he's always near me. I am getting pretty fed up with it. Ironically, because I haven't fed tonight. The Catacombs are always splintering with life, but now most of the rats have ran away. Damn Snow and his loud breathing and foot stomping.
I think about letting him catch me. There are a couple of rats around, not many but enough, I'm quick enough to catch them. (A regrettably useful skill to have out of consistent practice.) He could see me.
Would I want him to?
Sometimes I wonder. If I let him catch me. What would he do? It's a dangerous thing, to let yourself think. I have nothing else to pass the time with however, and the proximity of Snow and his irritatingly comforting magic does tend to let ones mind wonder.
Would he find me, cold and venomous on the floor of the catacombs? Walk up to me and hesitate as he saw me covered in blood? Would he take my shirt and pull me to his face, just so he gets the effect he always wanted, and let me watch as he summoned his sword? Would he slowly growl into my face, like he always does, and tell me it was over? Would he kill me? If he did, would I let him?
I hate when I can answer my own questions.
He is really close now, I'm so tempted. To let him do what my mother couldn't. To end it now, once and for all. All I can think of is the last moment. When Snow to finally drives me crazy and kills me. I hope it's not in the back, because if he did kill me I'd want to watch his face as I shamelessly (What would I have to fear then, I'd be dead.) tell him I love him. I would kiss him just to drive him as mad as he's made me. I'd let him dream about it, and make it turn him wild.
I'm so tempted, he is so close. Instead I hide. My skin let's me blend into the dead. The dirt and grime of the floor I'd been on smeared over me like a black veil. I must look like a wreck. I watch as Snow passes and hold my breath. He doesn't notice me. Aleister Crowley, if he had so much as muttered an uncovering spell I'd been done for.
His magic is thick, and untouchable and endless. I want it around me, but I don't dare touch it. Not when he's so close that I can touch him.
As he walks I think of what could happen. It almost makes me want to come up to him. To hug him from behind before he summons his sword, and whisper in his ear. My last taste would be iron, and my last feeling would be his magic consuming me. I want, so desperately want, to die with the words 'I love you' on my lips, to only him.