Drunk Confessions

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Otp Prompt #7: Simon seems fine after Agatha breaks up with him. But after hearing something from Baz, he goes off the deep end. Baz convinces him to swipe alcohol from the dining hall. What will Simon find himself saying or doing when he's completely hammered?

Simon Snow is a fucking mess. I think it's just starting to sink in that Wellbelove broke up with him. I'll admit, at first I was ecstatic when I heard the news; and even happier when Simon seemed to be taking it well. At least, he was until I had to go making things worse. He walked into our room two days after the break-up, and he looked like he was functioning just fine.

"Baz." He nodded in my direction, but he didn't spit out my name. It made me confused; he wasn't supposed to be being nice to me.

"Snow," I sneered extra hard at him. I hate what the sight of him does to me. I hate that his hair makes me want to frolic. And I don't frolic. Especially not as a vampire. Vampires don't frolic. "I heard Wellbelove finally broke it off." I added extra venom into my voice as he looked at me. He still didn't even seem fazed at the mention of Agatha. That just confused me even more. Why did he seem to be happy about the break-up?

"Yep. But I'm fine, Baz actually I'm more than fine..." It seemed like he was going to continue his thought, but he just trailed off in fine. So he was really happy about the break-up. It should have made me happy, but instead it made me feel worse. He was probably already moony-eyes for some pixie.

"Well, I'm glad," I started. He looked at me with something in his eyes (although I couldn't quite place what it was). "I have Agatha all to myself. It's about time." His face fell, and it seemed as though I had found the perfect thing to say to make him start missing Wellbelove. At least he wouldn't be chasing some other bloody skirts. He ran to our en suite and didn't speak to me (even to pick a fight) for the rest of the day.

The next day, he could barely even snap out of his funk enough to go to his classes. I didn't feel the familiar heat of his gaze on my back as our classes went on. Every time I looked back to see why, it was because he was too busy with his head in his arms, not even listening to the professors.

Now, Simon is laying on his bed face down. He barely even touched his food at dinner tonight- I watched him. A few times my heart skips a beat when I think he's stopped breathing, but it's always a false alarm. I've been trying to do my homework for an hour now, but I can't even focus when he's like this. I don't even think he's wondering if I'm plotting. (He always thinks I'm plotting. Sometimes I am. But only plotting ways on how to slip him the tongue).

When he lets out a whimper and I know that he's been crying, I decide that I'm over it. He can mourn over Wellbelove all he wants. But in private. I can't even think straight when he;s like this. I snap my book shut and walk over to stand next to his bed. "That's it, Snow. Time to get up." He doesn't even flinch. I tug on his arm and he finally looks up at me. His eyes are rimmed with red.

"What, Baz? Going to make fun of how miserable I am? Going to tell me about how now Agatha and you..." He trails off. I hate it when he does that. I shouldn't have said what I said. I'm rarely sorry about what I say to him, but I'm sorry this time.

"Let's go, Snow. You can mourn over losing Agatha all you want, but not when it interferes with my plotting time." He looks up at me and sits up. He frowns, which is like a knife to the heart. I don't know what I was expecting. For him to say 'ah yes darling, you helping me has made me realize that I'm madly in love with you' and a big smile? No. Simon Snow will never call me 'darling'.

"I'm not mour-" I cut him off before he can continue to make my heart hurt. I hate that he can make me feel that way.

"Ah," I hold up a hand to stop him. "Yes you are, and you know it. I happen to be friends with Cook Pritchard and I have an extra key to her kitchen. Follow me or stay here and rot. Your choice." I swear I see a ghost of a smile on his lips as he slips on shoes and begrudgingly follows me outside. We walk in silence as I lead him to the dining hall. When we get there, I reach into my pocket for the key she gave me many months ago. (You'd think I could unlock it with magic, but there are layers and layers of spells covering the doors so that other magic can't open it).

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