#anyway uhm it should be ILLEGAL to only give me two and a half weeks to work on the math IA... that should be TWO YEAR PROJECT MINIMUM !!

[transxfiles]

the thing about ib is that ideally it's a 4 year program at LEAST but the way i've heard about it from most people is they're either doing it as a 2 year program (bad idea) (what i'm doing) OR they've been at an ib world school for Forever and this is just their life.

[kalypsichor]

goodbye, hello [ paul mccartney x reader ]

summary: “He’s only got eyes for you.” John’s gaze softens as he leans in, voice sincere. “Look, ‘m not saying you have to like Paul or go out with him or anything. But you’ve got to tell him how you feel, all straight like, or else he’ll always be on your hook. That boy’s got a pretty face and a thick skull.”

prompt: this ask! this is a sequel to hello, goodbye which you should probably read for full literary satisfaction warnings: hope you’re not lactose intolerant bc this is CHEESY

Due to popular demand(two people’s but i wanted to write it so shut up), here’s part 2. I’m actually quite proud of this because I LOVE writing literary parallels and recursive story structures. @ my English prof please give me an A

Side note: so like,,, the ‘boy chases uninterested girl until she falls for him’ trope is very unhealthy,,, and if someone isn’t interested in you that should be enough to stop you from pursuing them *cough* every 90s-00s movie ever *cough*. for the purposes of this fic, it’s all because of miscommunication babeyyy

“Goodbye!”

You wave to your friend as she gets off at her stop. She smiles and waves back, and then the doors are closing and your view is being obstructed by a pair of legs. John Lennon, of all people, takes the now empty seat next to yours.

You don’t even have to look up to know that it’s him; it’s the faint whiff of cigarettes. And the fact that he almost clobbers you with the guitar strapped to his back when he sits down.

“Sorry,” he says, although his grin says otherwise.

The bus is almost entirely empty save from the granny carrying her weight in groceries in the back, so you’re not sure why the boy chose the seat right next to yours. Very unsubtly, you scoot as far left in your seat as possible.

“Hm,” is all you deign him with.

For at least a few minutes, you stare resolutely straight ahead of you in silence. You’re trying very hard to ignore the fact that he is very obviously staring at you but color is starting to rush to your cheeks and it’s not long until you turn back to him.

“What do you want, Lennon?”

“I’m just lookin’ at your face. Is that illegal?”

“Find a mirror, then,” you snap. “I’m sure you’ve got one in your pocket since you check your hair so often.”

He runs a hand through said carefully tousled quiff and chuckles. “Feisty bird, you are. No wonder Paul’s got it so hard.”

Don’t reply, it’ll just egg him on-- “Yeah, right. Paul makes a move on every girl that looks his way. I’m not special.”

John, who had been facing forward after your outburst, swivels to look at you again. “Paul? He won’t even speak to other girls. And that’s sayin’ lots, considering dozens of ‘em throw themselves at him every other night.”

“I don’t believe that.” And you can’t, can’t let that glimmer of hope get any brighter, you chide yourself.

“You don’t have to but it’s the truth. Where’d you even hear that, anyway?”

You fidget with your bookbag, already understanding the idiocy of your next words. “Well, I just… heard rumors. From friends, like.”

“Rumors.” John scoffs and uncrosses his arms. “Rumors is all it is. You can’t go round believing everything people say. That’s not very smart, and I know you’re a smart bird. ‘S one of the reasons Paul likes you, y’know.”

“Oh.”

You realize, now, that you’ve never seen Paul hitting on other girls. It’s mostly been Molly Ringwold, one of the lower sixths, who always laments about how Paul won’t ask her out. But if John isn’t lying, then Paul really hasn’t just been flirting around. And that changes everything he’s said to you, doesn’t it?

“He’s only got eyes for you.” John’s gaze softens as he leans in, voice sincere. “Look, ‘m not saying you have to like Paul or go out with him or anything. But you’ve got to tell him how you feel, all straight like, or else he’ll always be on your hook. That boy’s got a pretty face and a thick skull.”

The two of you sit in silence for the rest of the ride. When John gets up for his stop, you lurch out of your seat. He pauses and his eyes flicker questioningly to yours.

“Thanks. For telling me. And…” You struggle a little with the next bit. “It wasn’t fair of me to assume. So. Thank you.”

John smiles--a true smile. It’s warm and rounds out the harsher edges of his face and if you didn’t only have eyes for Paul, you’d think he was beautiful in that moment.

“Sure. I was getting tired of seeing my best mate so blue all the damn time.”

And then he steps off and you sit back down and the rest of the day is spent in your own head.

***

The next day after school, you’re searching for a familiar head of dark, fluffy hair in the courtyard when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Your heart leaps at the hope that it’ll be the boy on your mind all day and when it is, the stupid thing almost jumps out of your chest. And then he says your name, soft and hesitant, and it stops beating altogether.

“I just wanted to say, um--” Paul fidgets where he stands and how could you have ever thought he was just a cocky teddy boy? “Sorry. Yes, sorry, that’s it. Last week, I was being a right arse, wasn’t I?” He chuckles awkwardly, looking anywhere but your eyes.

“‘S no different from how you usually act,” you reply. Paul blinks at how your comment doesn’t have its usual bite. You’re just… teasing him? “I accept your apology, Paul.”

“Oh. Okay.” He smiles and when you reciprocate with a sweet, toothy grin he feels something loosen in his chest and fly away. “So, also, I was wonderin’. There’s that county fair on Friday, y’know, and… are you going?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Right, well, would you…? With me. I mean, go with me. As friends, of course, unless you, uhm. Y’know.”

The sun, half-hidden behind clouds as fluffy as Paul’s hair, sets a warm glow to his skin. You want nothing more than to hold a bit of his sunshine in your hands. With a confidence that surprises even you, you reach forward and do just that. There’s a stray tuft of hair falling across Paul’s pretty eyes. You tuck it behind his ear, thumb just barely brushing over his cheek and leaving a faint blush in its wake. When you pull away, Paul’s lips are parted and he’s watching you with a dazed expression.

“Meet me there at eight?”

“Okay.”

“It’s a date.”

“A date,” he repeats, but you’re already walking off to the bus stop. As he watches, you turn and raise an arm into the air, waving.

“I’ll see you!”

The words carry on the breeze and Paul snatches them. He holds them close, lets them warm his heart. They’re hopeful, he thinks as he turns them over and over in his head. Yes, they’re hopeful and beautiful. A fresh beginning, perhaps.

“Hello,” he whispers at the new, fluttering feeling in his chest.

[ryujinzs]

bill imagine

PART ONE

notes: so, this is was for a fanfic, but I decided do a imagine with some parts. is not bill x reader. I already made a character, elleonora and I hope you all like it. plus: Bill is a fighter, so... yeah.

I look at my reflection in the mirror for the last time. It was like torture,a sweet and slow torture. The edges were worn and needed to be retouched immediately. Right on the edge, there was a polaroid that breaks my heart every time I looked at her. The photo was taken in a moment where Bill and I were on the ice rink and for some reason there were lights scattered all over the place. It was romantic and memorable. His look on me was overflowing with love, and my smile to him, as passionate as possible.

I sigh tired trying to get rid of those memories. Now, we are not a couple anymore and my heart tightens every time I look at this picture. And if I closed my eyes for a few seconds, I could still smell his scent, his voice husky and calm in my ear telling me that he loves me or his tight embrace made me feel safe. Remembering how finished was particularly painful to deal with…

So I remembered…

“I could hardly look at him. It was hurting in me. It was getting to me slowly seeing him like that. His face was finished. Beyond the scar of years ago, there were cuts by the lips, cheek and eyebrow and a big purple in the apple of the face. The illegal fights were ending him, but his ambition was bigger than self-love and he let himself end up in that frightening way.

“I can’t do this anymore.” I say at once and I feel a hot tear trickle down my face.

Bill’s eyes are wet and his jaw locked while he stares at me impassively, I can barely make out what he’s feeling … Fear? Ache? Rage? I simply can’t.

“What do you mean?” his voice is hard and harsh, the voice that makes me tense and makes me shiver.

“I can’t be with you anymore.” I reveal my gaze between the opaque green of his eyes and the bruises marking his delicate skin. I sigh and let more tears surround me. “I can’t see you killing yourself. I can’t.” I gesture desperately.

“What the fuck?” he runs his hands over his face so that he is losing his temper. “Why do you want to do that? Why do you want to leave me?” he approaches in two steps and looks deep into my eyes making me intimidated.

“Because you’re killing yourself and I can’t see it knowing I can’t do anything!” I shout through tears, and I expect no other reaction than my own.

“I don’t give a fuck!” he runs his hands through his hair and I swear he was pulling his hair with some force.

“That’s the problem. I care too much to see you wreck yourself with these fights and the alcohol…” I run my hand over my face. “It’s over, Bill.”

I don’t know what happened, but then his gaze collapsed. The glow was gone, and his features changed automatically. Maybe he realized I was serious when he said he couldn’t stay with him anymore.

“No…” he nods his head repeatedly. “No, babe, no. Don’t do this to me, you know I need you…” he tried to reach my face with his hands, but I managed to escape. And before he could speak or do anything, I open the door and see him in it, with a tear trailing in his cuts and eyes staring at me with unimaginable pain.

“You made your choice, I’m sorry.” I shake my head, denying it, and I close the door behind me. I don’t hear a single noise, but when I am ready to enter the elevator, he opens the door so quickly and his agonized gestures catch my attention.

“Don’t go.”

“Goodbye, Bill.” I go inside and the door closes, so I end up collapsing inside the elevator.“

I come back to reality when my phone vibrates on top of the dressing table and I see a message from Jasmine, saying that everyone was already at the bar. I answer quickly and finish my make up. I draw the outline of the lips with the dark red lipstick and mess the blond strands of my hair that is completely flat. I like it that way.

I say goodbye to Tobias (my cat I won on my birthday, my ex boyfriend Bill who gave me and we ended up taking care of him together, but I decided that I would stay with him after all) and I keep my phone. 

The taxi is waiting for me on the sidewalk and I make every effort to get inside the car and go to the bar where my friends are. It turns out that since my breakup with Bill, they think I’ve ended up isolating myself and somehow needed to have some fun. All I wanted was to stay home with Tobias, order pizza with extra cheese, and watch every possible episode of Friends. But not. I decided to leave home in the middle of Saturday night to try to have fun, just try.

When I arrived in the middle of the Flume (bar where I used to hang out with Bill and our friends) the feeling of nostalgia invades me and I spend some time staring at the lighted entrance in rustic tones with the dark glasses and I only realize that I’m in the taxi when driver catches my attention because he needed the payment. I apologize and paid him.

When I push the bar door, I see my friends away. Jasmine, Ed and Cole. I smile and wave at them, Jamine’s gaze to me becomes a little desperate and I don’t understand very well, I can only decipher what their bouncing eyes mean when I see the color of their light brown hair next to Cole I swallow hard and stop in the middle of the path, my hands begin to sweat in a weird way and my throat is dry. I think about turning around to leave, but unfortunately Cole sees me and raises his arms waving at me. The music is a little high, but I swear I could hear the beating of my heart.

“Elle!” Cole says scandalously and makes everyone at the table turn their heads in my direction. Even him.

My heart misses the beat when our eyes meet. There’s the same opaque green that I used to love so much, the same pale skin and soft, the same look. The cuts were gone, and I assumed he had taken great care of himself while he was alone, which is too good to be honest.

He doesn’t take his gaze from me, to be honest I expected a little more amazement from him, but he’s so peaceful it makes me uncomfortable. Why is not he bothered by my presence? Has he already forgotten me? The questions close when Jasmine touches my arm in a friendly way.

“Sit here.” I just agree and force a slightly shaky smile. I’m still sweating with excitement, and Bill’s gaze on me doesn’t help.

“You look beautiful, Elle.” Ed comments and I smile and thank.

Then it all starts to get a little weird.

Ed looks at Jasmine who glares at Cole. The things gets heavy and I feel bad for being there in front of Bill after all this time, not so much, but there were weeks since we’d finished and he looked so good…

That’s awful.

“I’ll get something to drink.” I say suddenly and Jasmine nods, thanking God that I’ve been leaving the table for a few minutes.

I feel a sharp shiver running down my spine as I leave the table and find myself at the counter. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. It’s like I’m going to faint at any moment, my body is gathering strength to face the situation.

“What do you want?” the bartender says and I just say I want something strong, because to withstand my ex boyfriend at the same table as me and my friends, I’ll need a good dose of alcohol.

While I wait for the man to prepare my drink, I come across a blond man beside me, calmly drinking his beer. Light-colored eyes, the stubble to be made, and the great feeling that I know him from somewhere. He turns and my heart races in a rapturous way. It’s Bradley, my ex boyfriend.

“Elleonora?” he says a little surprised and confused.

“Brad…?”

“Fuck, Elle” he puts the beer on his side and holds me tight. “How long time.” I look at him as he loosens me from his arms.

“Yeah, a long time.” I answer with a smile.

“Are you here alone?” I know there are intentions in your question, but I decide to ignore it.

“I’m actually with some friends.” I look over Brad’s shoulder and see the table where I was. I sigh and look at him again. “You want to join us?” I only realize the stupidity I say when I remember Bill being here.

I literally invited my ex to sit at the table with my current ex boyfriend. 

What the fuck.

He smiles weakly and grabs his beer and then my glass that has been on the counter for some time and I didn’t realize it.

“Of course.”

I breathe deeply feeling my stomach wrap. When I get to the table, everyone looks at me, including Bill who when sees Brad, closes his face at once and I swear I see something in his eyes.

“Uhm, guys do you remember Brad, right?” I say and sit down next to Jasmine.

“Course, you dated Elle, right?” Cole asks, and when he realizes what he has said, he looks at me a bit suspiciously.

Thank you, Cole.

“Yes, I dated Elleonora, but unfortunately we broke up.” Brad says in a half smile and I gulp down my drink, which descends ripping like a sharp knife in my throat. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bill giggle as he takes another sip at his beer.

“Anyway, were not you in Norway?” I ask to try to break the weird thing between us, if at all possible.

“Yes, I came back last month.” he smiles at me sweetly.

“Should have stayed there.” I hear Bill’s quiet voice in a whisper and automatically look at him, who barely looks at me. I hope Brad has not listened.

“Must be a great place.” Jasmine says trying to get involved in the conversation.

“Oh, yeah!” Bradley gets excited about it. “I wish Elle had traveled with me, it’s definitely a wonderful place.” I swallow my drink by force.

“Who wants more beer?” Ed asks loudly, and Bill raises his hand to Jasmine. “Great, I’ll be right back.” then he leaves.

“And what have you been up to, Elle?” It strikes me that the conversation is focused on me, being the center of attention irritates me, I feel uncomfortable.

“Just working in the studio and doing some outside work as a model.” I smile weakly.

“Model? Wow.” Brad says laughing. “I always knew you were getting on with it. You are so beautiful.” I hold my breath and smile, thanking him for the compliment.

“Asshole.” this time didn’t come close to a whisper, everyone looked at Bill and my heart stopped.

“Sorry. What?” Brad turns away and laughs.

“Asshole. Do you really think that with these stupid things she’s coming back to you?” he wet his lips and looks at me quickly and then at Brad. “Because she won’t.”

“Bill.” I’m serious, but I’m ignored.

“Oh, so you’re the Elleonora’s ex-shit.” Brad laughs a little loudly and raises his eyebrow. “No wonder why she’s done with you, bro.”

“Guys…” Jasmine dares to say, but again, ignored.

“At least I gave her what she wanted.” I open my eyes to the sexual innuendo Bill does when he says it. Brad turns slowly to him and I see his face turn red. “At least I treated her like she deserved, not as a piece of shit as you did.”

“For goodness sake, stop with that shit!” I say loudly and they both look at me. “Can you two be adults for a fucking night and acting like normal people, not animals? Jesus!“  at that time of the championship there was a couple looking at our table and Ed is standing in front of the table looking at everything with wide eyes. “You know what? I’m out of here.”

“Elle, no.” Jasmine says trying to make me stay, but I can’t.

“Sorry for ruining your night, guys.” I say completely bland and turn around.

I get some glances from curious people and I ignore it. I try to leave as soon as possible and as soon as I can breathe a little of the outdoors my body starts to feel the heavy drops of rain that is falling.

I leave the bar so breathless that I barely noticed that a terrible storm is coming out here.

[snowkatze]

Unfairly Beautiful

This fic is dedicated to the anon who said that the kind of date they’d take me on is one in the book store and then the coffee shop. Genre: fluff (@4wksoffluff ^.^) Word Count: 3315 Summary: After Baz accidentally reveals his feelings for Simon, they go on a date. Problem is, Baz has never taken someone on a date before.

I wish I was able to say right now that I have absolutely got the hang of this, but the truth is that I'm not half as smug as I act. Of course I pretend I've gone on a hundred dates before and that I'm a master at this, but really, I have no clue what I'm doing. The worst part is that he knows how this works, he's good at this, he's better at this than I am. After all, he's had a girlfriend before. And I'm new to this. I'm a raw recruit. (I'm afraid I'll disappoint him. Or rather, myself.)

But this is important because it is supposed to convince him that there should be a second date. And many more dates and hand-holding and kissing and... whatever. Should I take his hand right now? Would that be coming on too strong? I don't want to scare him off. Then again, it's just a hand, for Crowley's sake. I carefully let my fingers brush against his.

We're on our way to the book store and he tells me something about what happened to Bunce this morning, but I'm only half listening. The other half is freaking out right now. Obviously, I'm not letting it show, but one half of my brain thinks about what he says and the other half shouts “HOLY SHIT”, repeatedly, and followed by the odd “FUCK I'M ON A DATE WITH SIMON SNOW”. Honestly, what the fuck is happening. Part of me thinks I'm having hallucinations.

Okay, Baz. Collect yourself. If you're doing this, you need to be fully present. Just concentrate on the date. Concentrate on Simon.

Is he even going to like it at the book store? What the hell was I thinking, taking Simon Snow to a date in a book store? I just panicked and thought about a place that relaxes me. A familiar environment. He's going to hate this date, isn't he? He gave me a shot, one shot, and I ruin it. Of course.

I think that maybe he's just pulling my leg. Or maybe I've gone crazy. Last week, Simon Snow looked so stunning, and perhaps I just went mad looking at him. Wouldn't be all that surprising, to be honest.

I sat on my bed, reading a book, when suddenly, I heard the door open. I lifted my head and saw Snow standing in the door way. I felt my breath catch in my throat.

“Have – Have you gotten a new sweater?” “Huh? Oh. Yeah. Penny picked it for me.” Fucking Bunce. And his hair. What was up with his hair today? I couldn't stop staring at him. So, what? Now that we're almost-friends, all my self-control has jumped out of the window?! I put the book down, but kept my gaze on his face. It made me almost angry. What gave him the right to show up in our room, looking so fucking beautiful?

“Baz?”

He gave me a weird look. Because, yes, in that moment, I was losing my mind, a little bit. And maybe I had been slacking. Since we were on a truce, I'd allowed myself way too often to enjoy myself. I'd forgotten where the lines were. I'd forgotten that I wasn't allowed to shamelessly admire Snow.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” And then he came closer to me because he has no discretion or sense for self-preservation whatsoever. And my mouth had gone dry, and my brain had killed itself along with my self-control, and as a result I couldn't form any coherent words. Or, well, I guess they were coherent, but not logical or sensible.

I wanted to shout at him and get angry for being so freaking attractive, but when I finally spoke, my voice came out soft.

“Because I would really like to kiss you right now.”

And then I kept staring at him, with glassy eyes, because I'm an idiot. Only when he said: “What!?” I snapped out of it. Thanks for coming back, brain, you're only ten seconds and one self-destructive sentence too late. All that you can do now is write my testament, you useless thing.

Simon recoiled and I jumped up. He looked at me like he was afraid of me, like I was about to Turn him or rip off his head or – maybe that's just what he looked like when he thought I was about to kiss him. Moron. As if I'd ever kiss him. Not even when I was completely out of my senses. I'm not suicidal, after all.

Then he turned around and slammed the door shut. My heart was beating fast and I fell back on the bed, thinking that this time, I'd truly fucked up.

Snow doesn't react to my hand against his, but it might just be because he's too self-absorbed, not because he's ignoring me. So I decide to just go for it, and intertwine his fingers with mine. For one anxious moment, he doesn't respond, but then he wraps his fingers around my hand and keeps talking, as if nothing had happened. Nothing has happened. Except for Simon Snow holding my hand, holy shit.

I'm afraid my palm will start sweating, even though it rarely does. It's ridiculous, but I fear that Snow will decide that he'll never hold my hand again. (And as pathetic as it sounds, most of the reason why I resent that thought is because his touch makes me feel alive, not because it'd hurt my feelings.)

Finally, I spot the sign of the little second-hand shop.

“There it is,” I exclaim and pull Simon with me into the shop. See, the problem is that I hadn't actually planned further ahead than this. What do I do, now that I'm in a book store on a date with the boy I've been in love with for almost eight years?

But then, suddenly, Snow turns to me and sends me a smile that makes my heart clench.

“This is so you, Baz. I think I always imagined a date with you involved books.”

“You imagined me on a date?” “Uhm. Yeah. Well. I guess I just wondered whether you ever had a girlfriend.” Idiot. Of course he didn't imagine himself on a date with you. So, I don't push it. I just tighten my grip around his hand. Somehow, it steadies me and I take a deep breath to clear my head.

“So,” I smirk. “What kind of books does the Chosen One read?” He shoots me an insecure glance.

“I, um, don't exactly read much.” “What?!” “Christ, Baz, don't look at me like I just murdered your child. I just don't have much time, you know, between slaying monsters and school and all...” “Well, reading is important. Knowledge is power, Snow. How are you going to take over the world if you have never read Shakespeare or, I don't know, 'A Brief History of Time' by Stephen Hawking?”

He giggles. “Of course you think you'd need bloody Shakespeare to take over the world. Anyway, if you're going to keep calling me the Chosen One, you can't expect me to have any evil takeover plans. That's like, the part of the supervillain. I'm supposed to stop you.”

“See, you do know about literature.”

“Or about bad superhero movies. Does that make you happy?” “It's a start.”

When Snow smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkle and his cheeks get dimples and his eyes light up – it's a vivid spectacle. One he hasn't shown me that often.

The ceiling of the store is rather low, and the shelves take up all the room. The books are old and broken, but I prefer this store to regular ones. For one, there are never many people here. Usually, there are only one or two people beside me. Also, these books seem familiar. Their dusty look and weird smell reminds me of home.

To me, this store is like a hiding place. A refuge, far away from reality.

I guess I should've thought more about bringing Simon here. About the fact that he could never understand what this place means to me.

“So, what are we doing here?” “Buying books, obviously.”

He still hasn't let go of my hand. I tug him down the aisle.

“Let's make it a game.”

“What game?” “Like a contest. Who can find the most ridiculous book title?”

“What?” “Come on, Snow. Most of these books are the trash that people didn't want any more. I'm sure we'll find some good stuff.”

“Okay, then. It's on.”

Unfortunately, he lets go of my hand, so we can walk in different directions. We spend a few minutes searching, before meeting again.

“Alright, let me start,” Snow says and holds up a book. 'How to Avoid Huge Ships'. “Very useful,” I remark. “But not as useful as this.” I show him 'the Manly Art of Knitting'.

“Hm, I'll give you that one. But I also found some for you. Here.” He gives me 'The Practical Pyromaniac'. I glare at him. Fine. Two can play this game.

“Funny, Snow, because I also found some very fitting ones for you.” Then, I hand him 'How to Raise Your I.Q. by Eating'. He snickers.

“If you figured out how to do this, I think you could even outsmart Bunce.”

“Fine, but I think I can beat you on that one,” he says and holds up 'Eating People is Wrong'. Fuck him.

“'Everything I Want to Do Is Illegal'.” “There's a book called like that?” He laughs and my anger washes away. Until he shows me his last book. 'Fancy Coffins To Make Yourself'.

I can't believe him.

“Thought you might need it.”

I raise my head, gather some dignity and say: “'Anybody Can Be Cool.'” Then I take a pause for dramatic tension. I lower my gaze.

“'...but Awesome Takes Practise.'” I shove the book in Snow's face. He bursts out laughing.

“Okay, fine, you win. What now?” “Now we go and find the ugliest cover.”

Which goes well, until I show him the cover of Twilight and he says: “But... Baz! That's your life story!”

I role my eyes. I shouldn't have brought him here. I should've known he would just keep making stupid vampire jokes at me.

I can't remember the last time I ever laughed so much. (I can't remember if I ever laughed so much.) Eventually, we sink down next to each other and just sit on the floor. Simon turns his head and gives me the tiniest smile. I can't help but beam at him. (Beam? Really, Baz? Contain yourself. But I can't. I can't stop it. I think I feel almost – could it be? Am I really – Am I happy? Damn.)

I reach out my hand and Snow takes it and I can't believe that I'm sitting in a smelly book store next to a cute guy who holds my hand. No, not just a cute guy. Next to Simon Snow. The guy with the destiny girlfriend who was supposed to kill me some day. He's here. With me. It seems so unreal and unlikely. The only thing keeping me on the ground is the soft squeeze of his fingers. And I know that he's real.

“I actually do have a favourite book, you know,” he says now, softly.

“Tell me about it,” I answer and start tracing circles on the back of his hand.

“Okay, so, it's about this orphan who is supposed to save the world. She has to defend it against an evil villain, but she's actually just a kid.” “Sounds familiar.” “Don't mock me about this.” “I'm not mocking you. I'm listening. Just... tell me more, please.” “Well, the world is on her shoulders and she crumbles apart underneath it. And, then, one day it just gets too much. And she shows up at the villain's hideout, but she doesn't want to fight... Just talk. All she wants is to understand him.” I swallow and avert my eyes.

“So, they talk, and they become friends.” “Just like that?” “Yeah... Just like that.”

For a moment, we just look in each other's eyes. My heart is racing fast and I'm sure this means something, but I can't think straight.

“I guess they are both villains after that, and someone needs to come to remind them again what it means to be human, but... at least they have each other.”

My voice is raw when I try to speak.

“I – I'd like to read it sometime.” Tentatively, Simon pushes a book in my hand. I look down and see that it's the one he's just been talking about.

He sheepishly looks up at me.

“Yeah, I found it and... wanted to give it to you.”

“Thanks.”

I'm on the verge of tears and I don't understand why. I just push the book close to my heart and hold it there. I try to calm myself and stand up, offering Snow a hand.

“Let's go,” I say and smirk. “I'm not done yet.”

I was half mad when Snow returned. So what now? Was he going to start a fight? I was tired of fighting.

Snow didn't look at me and I wondered whether it was always going to be that way from now on. He would never be able to even look at me again. He would probably act like even more of a moron than he already was around me.

But then he got closer and sat on the bed next to me. My body tensed up and I waited for him to speak. (To humiliate me? To rip out my heart and stomp on it?)

He looked so lost, so confused, that for a second I thought he didn't even know he was here. Or that I was right next to him. Then he reached out a hand, but I flinched away.

If he wasn't going to speak, fine, I'd do it.

“Listen, Snow, we can just forget this happened, okay? It'll be fine. Just pretend I never mentioned anything.”

“Baz...” he said as if he hadn't heard me. “Have you – Are you -”

I didn't answer, I just pulled my knees up and hugged them with my arms.

“Please,” I whimpered, because I'd have pleaded him if I had to. I'd have done anything to make him act like the last hour had never happened.

“I don't want to pretend you never said that.”

Of course he didn't. I pressed my forehead against my knees. All I wanted was for this nightmare to end.

“So what are you going to do now?” I asked. “Torment me?”

“I was thinking -”

He hesitated. “You could take me on a date.” “What?!” Had he really just said that?

“On Saturday.” “Are you trying to trick me?” “No, I'm serious. Completely.” He looked at me with wide eyes and I couldn't do anything other than stare at him.

“I want to try this. Please.” Try this? Try what? Was he insane?

“O-okay.” Was I insane?

I still don't know what he is getting out of this, but I'm going to make it last for as long as I can. (Does he want to be my boyfriend? No. Possibly?)

We're sitting in the coffee shop just around the corner. Snow is sipping the Pumpkin Mocha Breve that the barista makes just for me. I'm a regular in this Starbucks but Snow's never been here before.

“How can you drink that?” Snow asks and pulls a face. “It tastes like a candy bar.” “What's wrong with that?”

“Nothing at all.”

I shoot him a mistrustful glance, but he ignores me and starts talking about his favourite drinks. He looks different, the way his eyes glow. It might just be the lighting, but he's practically shining. (It might just be how ridiculously enamoured I am with him.)

It's nice sitting here, at a table by the window, just talking about nothing and everything.

And I do like listening to him. I want to know everything about him, every thought he has, no matter how ridiculous. And I want to keep seeing his eyes glow like that, and his smile brighten exactly that way... I don't think I'll ever grow tired of looking at him. Or holding his hand. As long as he'll let me.

Before I know it, we are the only ones left and it's gone dark outside. I want to keep him here, just save this moment forever. But the barista gives me an impatient look and I know that every moment has to end sometime.

Back in our room, I know that I somehow have to put an end to the date. I have to say something, something like: “That was nice,” or “Could we do this again, sometime?” Maybe I should kiss him. But I've never kissed anyone before, and perhaps he doesn't want me to either. Perhaps it's just me whose heart is beating fast and who can't let this moment go.

“So,” he says and I close my eyes because I can't bare to look at him.

“So, uhm,” I mutter, because I'm at a loss of words. He should say something, shouldn't he? He knows how this kind of thing works.

“So, did I ruin it?” I eventually say. “Will you not go on a second date with me?” “What do you mean?” “I mean,” I take a deep breath, “have you decided if you want to go on a second date?” I stay still for a second. Then he laughs. I turn my head away. I guess that means no. I try not to blush, and fail. I don't want him to know how humiliated I am. One date. I should be glad he even let me have that.

But then he grabs my arm.

“I was always going to go on a second date with you. I'd even go on a second date if this had been the most terrible date in the world.” “Was it?” “No, you idiot.” “But I took you to the book store and you don't even like reading.”

He smiles. I think it's killing me.

“It doesn't matter where you take me, Baz, as long as it's with you.” “But you have gone on so many dates already – you're an expert and I've never done this before...” “You've never done this before?”

He looks surprised. Fuck. I didn't mean for him to know that. Then, I just shrug.

“I've only been in love once.” “Only once? With whom?” I glare at him. Seconds pass, then he gets it.

“Oh.” “Yeah.”

My hands start fidgeting. “Too soon?” You aren't supposed to declare your love on the first date. Even I know that. (Especially when there's a high chance that it's not reciprocated.) “No, I – I think I'm in love with you, Baz.” I look up in his bright honest eyes and I don't believe him. How could I believe him? But then he lifts his hand to touch my cheek. My eyes flutter closed and I'm lost.

“I love you, Baz,” he repeats, and I'm completely gone.

“I don't want this date to end,” Simon whispers. “Me neither,” I whisper back and pull him towards his bed. We lay next to each other, wordless, just staring into each other's eyes. And we simply don't let it end. Tonight, I'm falling asleep next to Simon Snow. It's a miracle. It's impossible. And he's still holding my hand.