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SIMON
I don’t like this… seeing him like this. He looks so tired. His eyes, usually so sharp, are unable to stay opened for more than a few minutes. He’s got dark grey circles under his eyes, which tells me that he’s been neglecting to feed himself as often as he should. The other day, I checked the refrigerator and noticed that we had a lot more blood in stock than we should have. I’ve scolded him about that before, but it embarrasses him whenever I bring it up, that I try not to do it often.
The other day, while we were spending some (rare) quality time together, he fell asleep on my shoulder. I knew he was out cold, because he does this small snoring thing that is absolutely adorable. Normally, I find Baz falling asleep on my shoulder to be sweet and endearing, but it was barely past 5:00 in the evening. We hadn’t even had supper yet.
He’s exhausted.
He will spend hours in front of his laptop screen, or in front of dozens of articles and academic papers. I’ve had to close the laptop on him several times these last few months and force him to come to bed with me, only to find him gone by the time I’m awake (he’ll be back working, he’s always working).
He hasn’t been eating as much (not that he eats as much as I do, but he eats a fair amount, especially since we’ve been together), sometimes quickly grabbing a piece of fruit from the counter, or a left-over sandwich. I have been trying to entice him to eat more by preparing home-cooked meals, but he’s been so stressed, that he can only manage a few bites before throwing himself back into his work. I’ve taken to preparing sandwiches for him, so that at least he’ll have something quick and easy when he feels hungry enough to stomach some food.
I miss my husband. We’ve barely sat down together for a meal (he’s always so swamped with work), and the few times he has sat down, he can barely keep his head up. It breaks my heart to see him like this. From the moment he wakes up, to the moment he goes to bed, he’s working, or running to the University.
I kept telling myself that this was a temporary thing, and that it’ll only last until Baz finishes his latest Master’s thesis. The worry and the stress wasn’t going to be a forever thing. Besides, Baz knows his body and his limits better than anyone. Crowley, he’s even had to lecture me on it: “You needn’t worry yourself over me, Snow. My body has endured far more stress than a semester of Graduate school.”
I suppose that’s right. Merlin, how many times has he had to stretch the limits of his body just to survive? I don’t want to think about it. All that is in the past. We’re both in a better place now. More secure, more stable, more in love than we could ever be.
I still don’t understand why he continues to put himself through this. He’s already got a Master’s degree (English Literature), and was on his way to completing a Ph.D, when he changed his mind, and went back to study a different topic (Linguistics now). I just don’t understand why he went back to study a topic that was so vastly different from his first degree. Baz is just a professional student. He could spend his days collecting degrees as if they were bloody Pokemon and be perfectly content!
I don’t fucking understand it.
I suppose I could understand it better if I not only liked school, but also if I didn’t have to look at Baz everyday and wonder if today will be the day that the pressure finally gets to him. It wasn’t this bad during his last Master’s. Then again, he wasn’t also working as a Teacher’s Assistant for two professors, while also doing research on potential Ph.Ds, all the while working on his own thesis, AND attempting to write articles for his University’s journal. The real kicker to all this, is that he doesn’t need to be putting himself through all this stress. He was offered a job to teach at Watford, when he was still working on his English Literature Ph.D.
But he said he wasn’t ready yet to take that job, then he thought about doing another degree, and then I proposed to him (in the middle of an argument, which in hindsight probably wasn’t the best time to propose, but when have I ever done something when the time seemed right). So clearly, that took precedence, and not that we regret getting married when we did (it was a long time coming, and honestly we should have done it sooner), but now he’s back at it again… and I miss him. So fucking much.
Today, it got really bad.
He stumbled.
Baz never stumbles.
He’s graceful, poised, still fucking ruthless.
I was in the kitchen, making some morning tea, when he joined me. At first, I thought he was sleepwalking, from how dazed he looked. His eyes were a little unfocused, and half-closed. But no, he smiled when he looked at me, so he was definitely awake.
It happened when he started to walk over to me. I think he was going for a kiss, but he must have missed or gone in the wrong direction, because he stumbled, and almost fell to the floor. Thankfully, he caught himself on the kitchen counter to steady himself. I also dove to catch him, but he picked himself up. I wanted to carry him right back to bed and force him to sleep for a day (maybe call Penny to spell him to sleep). Baz wouldn’t hear of it when I so much as suggested it to him. He started going on about how much work he had to do, and how he was already falling behind on some of his corrections. As if he didn’t have enough on his plate, one of the professors he works for was going to be away on conference, so he asked Baz to fill in for him.
As he got dressed and washed up, we started to argue. He’s just… he’s so bloody stubborn all the time! He has it in his head that he needs to constantly push himself to be the best at everything. He believes he needs to prove to himself that he can handle any academic challenge that comes his way (which is bollocks, if you ask me). I told him that he didn’t need to be doing any of this, and that I couldn’t understand why he’s putting himself through all this stress.
I told him he had nothing to prove.
Which was a mistake. I’d hit a nerve that Baz wasn’t ready to expose yet. He looked at me, and said in a defeated, quiet voice: “My mother was Natasha Pitch. I have everything to prove”.
He walked into our spare room (more like his office) and hasn’t been out since.
I don’t mean to antagonize him further. I just want him to take one bloody day off. I want his mind to focus on other things so that he doesn’t completely fall apart. I should go talk to him, but I’m at my wit’s end. I know that if I tried to talk to him now, we’ll just argue some more until one of us walks out (old habits sometimes don’t die). It’s best to give us both some time to cool down and process everything.
I settle down onto the couch and start flipping through the television. I stop when I get to a Canadian television show that both Baz and I enjoy. I like it for the absurd comedy, Baz likes it for the representation and the subtle humour thrown in. The scene I’m currently watching features one of the main characters dancing to a Tina Turner song for his boyfriend. While watching this scene, a smile spreads across my face. I suddenly have the perfect way to get Baz’s mind off of his heavy workload. It won’t last for very long, but maybe it can last just enough for one night.
I quickly type up a message to Penny, asking her to borrow her flat for a few hours. I’m going to need a place to practice where Baz won’t walk in on me. Maybe, while I’m there, I can get ideas on how to help him with his stress (either from Penny, or from Shep, who’s had to deal with Penny’s own academic nightmares).
I walk to the door and tentatively knock.
“What is it, Simon?”
Right, so he’s still cross.
“I’m going to go over to Penny’s for a bit. I’ll see you later?”
“Sure… I’ll… I’ll see you later.”
He feels bad for the fight. He always feels sad when we argue (granted, it isn’t often, but communication isn’t our strong suit and we sometimes still struggle with it). I hate to leave when we’re like this, but I’m on a mission. I’m going to find a way to remind my husband, the love of my life, that he doesn’t have to prove anything to me.
To me , he always was, and always will be, simply the best.
BAZ
I should apologize to him. I didn’t mean to snap at him like I did. I know that his pestering comes from a place of concern, and I love him for that. After all, if anyone knows what it means to have to constantly prove yourself, it’s Simon Snow.
I’ve just been so exhausted lately. These courses and seminars that I’ve had to run have been taking their toll on me. I should be able to handle it, I’ve handled worse semesters before (well, not exactly). Besides, by the time my mother was my age (28, don’t remind me), she was already Headmistress at Watford. Granted, I was offered a position at the school to teach English literature a few years ago, but I wasn’t ready to fulfill that. There was still so much that I needed to learn! Did I even want to teach English literature? I don’t know! I’m finding Linguistics to be so much more interesting, even if the course load has been staggering.
I’ve been pushing myself more and more everyday, trying to stay ahead of the material, reading articles as they get published, hosting office hours for students, all the while working on my own thesis (as well as an article of my own for the University’s Linguistics Journal). Frankly, if I didn’t find the subject so fascinating, the heavy workload might not be worth it.
Maybe that’s my problem. Maybe I just love being a student so much, that I don’t know how to be anything else.
I stare at the office door. Simon left the flat a couple of hours ago. I should be working on my article, but I just can’t seem to focus on my work. Maybe I should sleep (no, bad idea), or eat something (slightly better idea). I haven’t properly fed since yesterday afternoon.
I make my way to the kitchen and prepare myself some blood before settling down in the living room. I figure I should spend the remainder of my day correcting essays from one of the courses I TA for (Semantics 4).
I seem to lose track of the time, because the next time I glance at the clock, I notice that four hours have gone by since I sat down. I start to wonder where Simon could be. He did tell me that he’d be at Bunce’s, but that was this morning (wasn’t it?). It is now 5 in the evening. He should be home by now.
I am about to send a text message to Simon, when the door opens.
Oh good… He’s back.
I let out a sigh of relief and look up at him. I give him a small smile and wave at him. Simon returns it with a sad smile of his own. He sets a small bag down on the kitchen counter, before joining me on the sofa. He wraps a wing around my shoulders and pulls me closer to him. I lean my head on his shoulder as he cards his fingers through my hair. My eyes close and I sigh deeply. He knows exactly what to do to make me happy. I don’t even notice that he’s pulled the laptop away from me and has placed it on the coffee table. He gently places a small kiss on the top of my head.
“Have you eaten?” He asks me.
“I fed this morning.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Simon…”
“ Baz ... You have to eat something.”
“I’ve been working all day. I just… I lost track of the time.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, I knew this would happen.”
Simon’s wing moves away from me as he gets off of the sofa. I roll my eyes at him and continue to work on my laptop. If he wants to growl at me, he’s perfectly free to do so, but I’m busy right now and would prefer to finish at least one task instead of bickering with my husband.
SIMON
Stubborn, foolish, git.
I fucking knew he would have forgotten to eat something. He gets so wrapped up in his work, that necessary activities, like eating, get ignored.
And then he calls me the thick one! Well at least I can remember to make sure we both get something to eat. I open the small grocery bag, and pull out several containers of blood, as well as two sandwiches (all bought from the small Italian butcher’s shop/deli near our flat). I watch him working on the sofa, and I can’t find it in me to be angry with him. I can be frustrated, and I bloody am!
I quietly sit back down next to him and (once again) pull the laptop from his hands. Before he can protest, I hand him a plate with his panini sandwich (several cured meats, provolone cheese, and tomatoes; His favourite from the deli) and a small thermos of blood. He raises an eyebrow at me, but accepts it. We eat our meals in silence (roast beef sandwich for me), but I wrap a wing around him again. I’m still frustrated with him, but I don’t want to argue anymore.
Besides tonight is about distracting him from his work, and that’s what I plan to do.
BAZ
He’s too good to me.
I eat my sandwich slowly and lean back, against his wing. It wraps tighter around me in a loving embrace and my heart quickens.
No matter how long Simon and I have been together he still makes me feel as I did that night on Christmas Eve, in the forest. No matter how much time we spend together, he still makes me feel as though I am crashing into the sun whenever I’m around him.
We finish our dinner, and Simon collects the dishes. I stare at him for a little while before picking up my laptop again. I’m barely able to open up a file, when the laptop closes on me. I look up to see Simon, arms crossed with a mischievous smile on his face. I tilt my head and raise an eyebrow at him.
“Snow… what’s this about?”
“You need a break.”
“Capital idea, love. But I can’t really risk taking a break now.”
“I don’t bloody care. You’re taking a small break and I’m going to help you.”
“Simon…”
“Baz…”
I sigh. Simon’s got his chin all jutted out, and his shoulders are squared. His Adam’s apple is working up a bloody storm (it’s still a whole scene). I hold out my laptop, conceding.
“Fine.”
Simon smiles as he takes my laptop from me. He then moves our small coffee table to the side of the room and gives me a playful smile.
“Care to tell me what your plan is?”
“I’m giving you a small distraction, Pitch.”
He connects his mobile to a small portable speaker on our bookshelf. He fiddles with it for a moment before turning back to me, eyes sparkling and smile spreading wider.
“And, I’m going to remind you of how brilliant you are.”
Before I can respond, he presses a button on his mobile and some music begins to play. I give him a quizzical look, but… I know this song.
“Snow… What?”
I call you, when I need you. My heart’s on fire.
Bloody Tina Turner? Is Simon mouthing the words to a Tina Turner song, and… dancing ?
He is… he’s mouthing the words and dancing his way towards me. The incredible pillock is actually dancing to a Tina Turner song. I choke out a small laugh and shake my head at him, as he shimmies his way over to me.
“Simon, are you absolutely mad?”
You come to me, come to me, wild and wild.
He reaches me and brings his face so close to mine. I can smell his sweet, cinnamon, and buttery scent. I think he’s about to kiss me, and I close my eyes, preparing myself. The kiss never comes, instead he nudges his nose to mine and turns away from me. I loudly laugh and throw myself backwards against the couch.
“Bloody tease!” Simon laughs at me and continues to dance as Tina sings.
You come to me. Give me everything I need.
Simon’s now circling behind me. Shivers run down my spine as he trails his hands across my back and shoulders. As he comes to face me again, the back of his hand brushes lightly against my cheek. I reach out and gently graze my fingers against his.
Give me a lifetime of promises and a world of dreams .
His hand moves slowly up the side of my face and he lightly brushes the hair on my face back. I close my eyes and lean towards him, but he’s gone again, intent on driving me completely mad.
“You’re an absolute nightmare!” I growl at him. Simon just laughs at me and backs away. He's doing this little move where he shakes his shoulders towards me, and all I want to do is grab them and pull him towards me, and onto this sofa.
Speak the language of love, like you know what it means.
Now he’s taken to mimicking talking with his hands. I start to giggle at him. Crowley, I love him so much. He’s making an utter fool of himself, all for me. To get my mind off of the pressure I’ve been feeling. He’s incredible. He’s… everything .
Oh and you can’t be wrong. You take my heart and make it strong.
Bloody numpty’s got his hands clutching his chest dramatically as he crumples slowly to the floor. He then spreads his arms out and lifts himself back up to meet my face. I roll my eyes at him.
“You dramatic fool”, I say to him. Simon, grin wide, points directly at me.
You’re simply the best!
He’s bobbing his head, bronze curls bouncing wildly. His tail is swerving along to the music.
Better than all the rest!
His hands are waving in all directions. That tail of his has crept up to graze my calf. It prods at my thigh, as if to remind me to pay attention.
Better than anyone! Anyone I ever met!
Those blasted shoulders of his are shrugging at me. Normally, I dislike that motion, but for now, I’m loving everything that this disaster is doing. I would never have figured Simon would do something like this. He’s much too timid about his coordination (even though he can wield a sword like no other).
I guess I was wrong, because here is Simon now, swaying and shaking and flapping his wings with all the drama and vigor necessary for a Tina Turner song.
I’m stuck on your heart. I hang on every word you say.
Simon’s placed himself between my legs. He’s kneeling down, and one of his hands has made its way up to my chest, over my heart, and is just staying there. He’s feeling my heartbeat. He must have felt it speed up, because he looks at me and gives me a playful wink before pushing himself away from me.
Tear us apart? Oh no no no!
He's thrown himself on the floor again and is pounding his fist against the floorboards. I try to reach out to stop him.
“Simon! Are you mad? The neighbours will murder us!” But Simon’s not listening to me.
Baby I would rather be dead!
I roll my eyes again as Simon sighs loudly and pretends to swoon. I cannot believe I married this imbecile.
This ridiculous, amazing, blessing of an imbecile. The one who has given me ten wonderful years together (albeit, with some challenges along the way, but I am a Pitch, and we love a good challenge). Who is now doing all that he can to make me smile, even though living with me for the last few months must have been a nightmare.
Each time you leave me I start losing control!
I shake my head and a loud laugh bursts out of me, as Simon shakes his fists towards the sky.
“And then you call me dramatic!”
You’re walking away with my heart and my soul!
He clasps his hands to his chest and does a lovely little turn, his tail and wings fluttering as he moves. I can feel my body warming up and a blush creeps to my face. I would blame the blood I’ve just ingested, but who am I kidding? This is all Simon’s doing.
I can feel you even when I’m alone!
Simon’s gotten down on his hands and knees and he’s slowly crawling towards me. I smile at him, willing all the love and adoration I feel for him to show through in my eyes.
Oh baby.. Don’t let go!!
He’s grasped onto my hands now and he’s shaking them wildly. I laugh and I laugh, and I stare at him as the saxophone solo (what is it with 80’s music and bloody saxophones?) plays in the background. Simon is staring into my eyes, giving me such a soft look, that I reach over and brush some curls from his face. He has a small film of sweat starting to bead across his brow. Simon starts to laugh as well, his blue eyes sparkling under our living room lights.
He pushes some more of my hair back, behind my ears. The song picks up again, but Simon has chosen to sing along this time.
“You’re simply the best.”
His hand moves slowly down my face and just rests there. I place my hand over his and give it a light squeeze. I turn my face into his palm and brush a soft kiss into it.
I think I see what you’ve been trying to tell me, Simon.
“You’re better than all the rest.”
He brings his other hand under my chin, and traces his thumb over the outline of my jaw. He’s so wonderful to me and so full of love... For me. I feel tears forming in my eyes.
“Better than anyone. Anyone I ever met.”
Crowley, he has such a lovely voice. Simon rarely sings. He’s embarrassed by the sound of his voice, but the rare moments where he’s unafraid, uninhibited, unapologetic, those are the moments I love the most.
His hands are cradling my face, holding me as if I were a bubble about to pop. They’ve moved to the back of my head, all the while, running through my hair. It feels so good. So bloody good. I place my own hands on the sides of his face.
“I’m stuck on your heart, Baz. I hang on every word you say.”
A sound escapes my lips that’s a terrifying combination of a sob and laughter. There's no point in stopping them now, the tears have started flowing freely down my face.
I love him.
More than anything.
I love him.
My heart, my soul, it all goes to him.
He gently pulls me closer to him. I let him lead me wherever he wants to take me. His lips brush over the tears that have left tracks. I gasp out another emotion-filled laugh, as Simon brings our foreheads together.
“Tear us apart? Never. Baby, I would rather be dead.”
I don’t even hear Tina Turner singing anymore. All I hear is Simon. All I see is Simon. All I know is Simon.
He is my all, my everything.
He is my beginning, my middle, and my end.
“I love you… so bloody much,” I whisper to him. He lifts my head gently, so that my eyes meet his. His beautiful, ordinary blue eyes.
“You’re the best.”
The song fades away and Simon starts to graze kisses on my face.
One on the tip of my nose.
A couple on my forehead.
One on each of my eyelids.
A couple on the corners of my lips.
It’s all so tender and full of love, I find it almost unbearable. Simon is filling me with his life and his warmth, that I lose myself for a moment. I say the first thing that pops into my mind (which, coincidentally is also the most idiotic thing I will ever say, but Simon Snow pulls the idiot out of me).
“Marry me… Simon, marry me!”
Simon stops kissing and gives me a long hard look. I feel the blush creeping across my face. I start to look down, but Simon’s laughing. He’s thrown his head back and is roaring in laughter. His face is turning a bright shade of red and laughs rumble through him. I start laughing as well. I can’t control it at this point, they’re bursting from me in waves of energy and emotion. Tears are streaming down both of our faces as we shake against each other.
“Oh, mate. I’d love to, but I’m already spoken for”, he says as he waves his ring finger in front of me. His gorgeous wedding ring (matching mine and completely his design) shines in the light. I take his hand and place a small kiss on his ring.
“You could always leave the tosser”, I say in a low, rumbling voice. “Heard he’s a real arsehole, who spends far too much time focused on his work.”
Simon laughs and nuzzles my face with his. “He’s not so bad. Bit of a prat, but he means well. I do miss him though.”
“He misses you too.” I kiss him right on my favourite mole, the one right below his left ear.
“I love him. More than anything.”
“He loves you to. And he falls more in love with you everyday.”
I press my lips tenderly against his. He pushes against me and tilts his chin to the side.
It’s wonderful, and intoxicating as always.
I wrap my arms around his waist and I lift him onto my lap. We continue to kiss and hold each other, as Simon wraps his legs around my waist. His hands are holding onto my face as we kiss deeper and deeper and deeper.
All I can think about, is getting him into our bedroom, where we can continue this in a more comfortable setting.
I hold onto him and lift us off the couch (Crowley, I love my vampire strength in moments like this). I hug his body close to mine, supporting his back. His wings have closed around me, protecting us both from the outside world.
Simon has moved from my face and is now kissing my neck... And...
Oh Crowley...
I’m practically running to our bedroom, as Simon giggles into my neck. As we enter, a single thought enters my mind.
If I’m the best, it’s only because Simon makes me the best. I’m all I am because of him.
You’re simply the best.