Chamber by Chamber // Snowbaz

Realizations in the Cold

COC #28: Frost

Simon and Baz are stuck out of Watford during the first frost of the year.

~ I really was this close to titling this one 'READ ME PLEASE' but I figured that'd be a bit desperate. I am just so thoroughly happy with every part of this one. Enjoy! ~

*Baz's POV*

There's something poetic about being stuck with Snow during Watford's first frost. Of course, I'm particularly bloody fond of the idea of thinking about poeticism when I'm stuck with fucking Snow during Watford's first frost. Outside. In payback for the Chimera (he still has no proof I pointedly set it out on him), Snow left me a note telling me to meet him in the woods outside the school because he had information on my mother's killer. Of course, I'm not daft. I knew he didn't, really. Well. I mostly thought I knew. But as things pertaining to my mother go, I couldn't risk him really having information and then never telling me. So this time, love (for my mum and Simon, if we're being honest) and desperation outweighed common sense. I had set out for the woods late, thinking that the information couldn't possibly take long.

The cool evening air nipped at my already cold nose. I hadn't thought to bring much with me in terms of staying warm; just a coat and a scarf. They weren't any match for the first truly cold winter night at Watford. But as I walked up over the drawbridge and to the edge of the wood, the cold wasn't exactly on my mind. It mostly consisted of bloody Simon, his eyes, his hair, and my mum. (I hardly like to think of my mother when I'm also thinking of Simon Snow.)

There he was, standing at the edge of the forest, in nothing but a t-shirt and trackie bottoms. (Sometimes I think he doesn't really own a real coat- Penny usually spells one up for him.) He was shivering and all his blood was in his face, an adorable blush flushed against his cheeks. (At this rate, I'd never be over Simon fucking Snow if he kept looking like that. Who gave him the bloody right?) I quickened my pace until I got up close to him, and then I stopped. (Even from five feet away, I could feel his heat and the hot, sticky taste of his magic.)

"Well then, Snow," I started out, desperate to get it over with. "What've you got for me?" He smiled a bit, like he knew something I didn't. At that point, I think I knew it was a trick. I knew I could've walked away then- no harm done. But I think a fairly large part of me (the most insufferable part who is hopelessly gone for Simon) didn't particularly care at the moment. Because I was within arms length of Simon Snow, and even if it hurt like all fuck, it was better than nothing. Even if he burned me with every single glance, it was better than being ice cold all the bloody time.

"Well, I erm-" I rolled my eyes and gestured with my hands for him to get on with it.

"Use your words, Chosen." He growled a bit, but kept tripping over his words. It went on for a good bit before he jumped up and down, pointing excitedly to something behind me. "Christ, Snow! Calm down! I've seen you kill a dog with less effort." But he didn't stop pointing and smiling, and part of me wanted to see that smile forever- even if it was at my expense.

"I got you, you arse!" He stopped jumping up and down, but he kept smiling as I looked over my shoulder to see the drawbridge closing. I had expected that, and it was cold, but I couldn't be bothered to care, because something else was scratching at the back of my mind. (Whether it made me want to laugh, cry, or scream, I didn't know.)

"That's all well and fucking fine, Snow, but..." He looked at me, a smile still playing at his lips. But that smirk quickly faded as he saw mine start to crawl across my face. "How do you suppose you're getting back inside?" His face stayed frozen for a moment- like a snapshot of bliss. Mouth open in half a smile, eyes alight with the spark of victory. Then his smile dropped as he realized: we were both stuck out for the night. Together. No way back in. With hardly any clothes on our backs.