Snowbaz Oneshots

My Little Notes (Part 2)

I concentrate on each individual cursive letter, focused, until my eyes fall shut and I drift asleep.

The next morning

I came to consciousness feeling vaguely rested, with the note- I stole your pen- clutched in my fist. I showered with shampoo and everything, for the first time since I could remember, and the water was clear.

I almost believed today would be an okay day until I went to work. Eating lunch alone. Grumpy customers who glared at me when I wasn't bringing out their food fast enough. My boss telling me I needed to "be more cheery" and "work for the money".

Before bed, I get on social media, but my pages are empty and deserted like graveyards (save Baz commenting on everything, I suppose).

Overall, one of those days spent wondering, does nobody like me?

I'll be straight with you here. Baz is working a late shift tonight; I want to be with him so badly. But I still take advantage of his absence and open the Pen drawer after pulling on my pajamas.

Am I expecting it to have magically returned? My old routine established? Instead, I find another heartwarming note from Baz:

You've got this, Simon

At lunch the next day, I ask a pair of colleagues if I can sit with them.

You are truly amazing

The afternoon following that night's note, I bike home from work to lift my spirits.

I love your kindness so much.

I get a haircut.

You can do anything!

I buy new clothes that actually fit me.

You're a blessing

I make dinner for Baz and I, and we laugh when it tastes like yuck.

I want to spend forever with you.

I start a journal.

You light up the room

I return a gazillion missed calls from Penny.

You are intelligent.

I start to read a book.

I Love You.

I fill out registration forms for one on one therapy. I rub my notes between my fingers for a burst of reassurance and hit submit.

After eight or ten months, thing have gotten...better. Really better.

I'm sitting on the couch with Baz; we're watching tv and stealing from each other's snack bowls.

"Why won't Rachel and Ross split up already?" Baz ponders.

I gasp pseudo dramatically and say, "No! He's her lobster, Bazzy!" He just rolls his eyes affectionately and slides his arm around my shoulders. I nestle in and feel the contentment from the way he's repetitively stroking my arm.

"Hmmm."

"What?" I ask.

"So smooth," he replies. His expression looks so proud. I feel something blossom inside me.

"I Love You," I say.

He smiles, showing a bit of teeth. "Do you love yourself?"

Who asks that? I mean, who genuinely asks and wants to be sure you love yourself? My wonderful boyfriend, that's who.

I breath deeply and nod.

"Yes."

Baz's face looks so angelic. He leans in for the kiss, and I close the space. He smells like cedar and bergamot, as always. After a few minutes- or a few hours- of that amazing kiss, we just hold each other.

That night

I climb under the covers, ready for dreamland. One last look at the north wall of the bedroom adorned with a collage of hundreds of Baz's notes.

{The End}