Chapter Text
SIMON
Second Year
Baz snuck into the Mage’s office. I watched him disappear into the stairwell after our last class, and he hasn’t come back.
I take the same route, the same stone steps. The heavy wooden door at the end of the hall opens to my touch, and I see him immediately. He’s sat on the floor, cross-legged and staring at the far wall. I can’t tell at what, exactly. The view’s obscured by an overflowing bookshelf.
My magick sparks like static on my fingers as I approach him. I’m surprised he hasn’t heard me already. He always hears me.
“Oi!” I shout.
He nearly jumps out of his skin, whipping his head around to glare at me. I should say something else, I was going to, but I can’t find the words. His eyes are red and swollen, and there are fresh tear tracks on his pale cheeks. It makes my chest hurt.
“Y-you’re crying,” is all I can manage.
“Well spotted, Snow.”
“Why are you crying?” I press, moving closer so I can see the wall. There’s a large oil painting of a serious-looking woman hung just past the shelves of books. She’s got reddish-gold skin and familiar grey eyes. “Oh.”
“It’s none of your business,” he snarls, pushing himself to his feet.
“Is—is that your mum?” I look into his matching grey eyes, tears still clinging to his dark lashes. I lower my voice to a whisper. “I don’t have a mum, either.”
His mouth twists.
“It’s—I’m sorry,” I mumble. I reach out. I want to comfort him. My hand hangs uselessly in the empty air between us. “Can I … d’you want a hug?”
He blinks. “What?”
“Penny, uh, she … she said that hugs make people—like, if you do it for sixty seconds—apparently, it makes you happier.” Baz is gaping at me now, his eyes wide and lips slightly parted. “If—if you wanted I could. I’m probably not … I’m—I’m no good. At hugs or … any of it.“
He shakes his head. His hair is slicked back, but a few strands have come loose, falling in front of his eyes. The next breath he takes is shaky.
“Please leave me alone,” he says quietly.
I don’t stop him when he brushes past me. He shuts the door behind him with a soft click, and I’m left staring at my feet.