My "Rosebud" Boy(friend)

Day and Night

Thursday, January 1

This is the beginning of your chat with E.Claire

SS/BP-11:00am: Hi Claire!

E.Claire-11:01am: Hey, Baz. How's it going with Simon?

SS/BP-11:01am: Not too well, unfortunately. What about with Penny?

E.Claire-11:02am: Good. She agreed to go out with me to the forest for a walk today. We talked about a lot of different stuff. It was nice to get to spend some time with her away from the other girls.

SS/BP-11:03am: That sounds nice. I wish Snow would agree to something like that.

E.Claire-11:04am: He'll come around eventually. Don't worry. It'll happen in the end if it's meant to be.

SS/BP-11:04am: Thanks, Claire. See you later! Bye.

E.Claire-11:05am: Bye!

-E.Claire has left the chat room

-SS/BP has ended the chat

Snow talks all the way to our destination. I didn't know someone could talk that long without going hoarse, but he manages.

We're going somewhere special for dinner. It's a hotel on the edge of London that my (biological) mother used to take me to. Simon doesn't know that it's a hotel, however, and he also doesn't know that our "reservation" is for a room on the seventh floor. It's going to be a surprise vacation. (Penny and Claire know about it; otherwise, they'll flip their shit when we aren't home in the morning.)

"Simon!" I hiss, interrupting a rant about how people in movies never hold swords right."We're here!"

His head jerks up, and he looks out the window. When he catches sight of the hotel, his mouth drops open. "We're going there for dinner?" he asks, dumbfounded.

"We're going 'there' for a two-day-long vacation," I tell him, and he gasps in delight. As I circle the lot, trying to find a good place to park, his smile slowly dominates his face.

"Wait, Baz," he says, "I didn't pack anything."

"Don't worry," I reassure him, "I did." And it's true. I've got two duffel bags packed to bursting in the back, and I've got our room key in my pocket. (Number seven hundred and eighty-nine. Because seven eight nine.)

When I finally find a bloody parking spot, we get out, and, faster than I can say "Simon Snow kissed me", Simon Snow has run around the back of the car and is kissing me. I oblige him for a few seconds, then ask, "Do you want to do this inside?"

He grins at me- that wide, sparkling, blindingly white grin that I've always adored, and picks up the duffel on the right. Which, coincidentally, happens to be mine. "Hey, yours is the other one!" I protest playfully, and he gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before setting down my bag and getting his own.

"Love you," he says, beaming.

"I love you too, Simon," I respond. He smiles ever wider and starts to walk up to the building.

When we're in our room, we set the bags on the couch. Simon flops down face-first onto the bed, and I lay down next to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I kiss his neck and mutter into his ear, "I will always love you, Simon Snow. Even after the world has fallen apart."

"I know," he replies contentedly. "You already are."