Snowbaz One Shots

Storm Cloud

KIND OF A DISCLAIMER: I guess that this could kind of be considered an AU, but it could've also happened after Carry On if you'd like to think of it that way. I've never really had to put warnings on any of my fics before, but I feel like I probably should with this one... WARNINGS (please mention any others in the comments and I will certainly add them): depression, self body shaming, cursing.

I'm proud of this one, but it is quite intense and very sad, so please read with discretion. I certainly don't want to cause any harm. <3

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Simon's POV

I'm fucking worthless. Fucking useless. Such a waste of space.

I crash around the apartment, tearing down mirrors, all of them landing on the floor with a satisfying thud. I don't want to look at myself. I don't want to look at my pudgy face or my eternally screwed up hair. I don't want to see the disgusting stretch lines on my thighs or the permanently dumb expression on my stupid face. I just want to crawl in to a hole where no one can see me and lay there until it's over. It's not like I'm doing anything important with my life anyway. It isn't until I collapse on to the couch that I realize that my cheeks are wet with streaks of burning hot tears. Using my sweater sleeve to angrily wipe them away, I curse myself for being such a fucking baby. I lose track of how long I sit there. It's long enough for my eyes to dry out, leaving me staring in to space emotionlessly.

Startling me out of my trance, I hear my apartment door swing open alarmingly fast. Not even giving me a chance to panic that there's an intruder in my home, Baz whips around the corner frantically. When his eyes land on me, slumped over on the couch uselessly, he visibly exhales deeply and puts a quivering hand to his chest.

"Shit, I was so worried about you." His voice comes out airily and shaky. He takes a few moments to compose himself, before standing up straighter and speaking again, this time stronger and louder. "What the hell have you been doing? I've been texting and calling you all day. You had me worried sick, Simon. I thought something was wrong with you. I took the train all the way from my parent's house two days before I was supposed to come home because I thought something was wrong. Explanation please." He sounds less like a concerned boyfriend and more like an irritated mother whose rebellious teenager is acting out. As I sit there stoically, a flash of this morning when I threw my phone at the bedroom floor plays through my mind. I hate myself all over again. It's my fault. Everything's my fault.

"...sorry..." I choke out meekly, my voice raspy and cracked. My sorry excuse for an apology only makes me despise myself more.

"Sorry for what, Simon?" Baz's voice rises even more, clearly incredibly fed up with me. I bite back tears. "For not answering me all day, or for not having a reason to not answer me all day?" Suddenly I'm angry. I find myself standing from the couch and raising my own voice.

"You really think I would just choose to not answer you for a day? Sorry, I was a bit busy bathing in my own self loathing and wishing I didn't exist. Is that reason enough for you?"

I watch as Baz's cycles through about twelve different facial expressions before landing on utter confusion.

"What?" He finally musters. It comes out like a hiss.

"Yeah. You know, no biggie. Just sat around here all day absolutely hating every conceivable aspect of myself. I was just a bit too wrapped up in that to check my phone, but I truly apologize for your inconvenience." Sarcasm coats every word that falls out of my mouth. I'm even shocking myself.