#guys is it gay to have a poster of your nemesis hanging up on your wall to throw darts at?

[daily-symbiotes]

Today’s Daily Symbiote: Cake time

[the-noodle-king]

more Visor: 33)Give us an in-game interaction between your character and Reaper. 36)Give us an in-game interaction between your character and Tracer. 45)Give us an in-game interaction between your character and Reinhardt. 46)Give us an in-game interaction between your character and Roadhog. ((i'm so sorry)) AND cuz i'm self-indulging and would love to see two happy guys interactin 50)Give us an in-game interaction between your character and Lucio. BONUS: Do they have a CanonOW character crush?

33) Give us an in-game interaction between your character and Reaper. 

Reaper: What are you looking at?

Visor: (A little more high pitched than usual) Nothing at all!

Lore Note: Visor is literally the only character who doesn’t know that Reaper is Gabriel Reyes or that Soldier:76 is Jack Morrison. He’s the only one. The day they were both declared dead to the world he cried himself to sleep. He still gets teary when he looks at the poster of them he has over his bed. No one has the heart to tell him they’re both alive but one’s a literal demon and the other became a grouch, so they all just pretend. That scene in frozen where kristof says “I’m gonna tell him” and anna says “No you are not” is Sombra and Tracer every time he talks about them.

36) Give us an in-game interaction between your character and Tracer. 

Tracer: You alright mate? You look a little ill...

Visor: I, I, I- You! Tracer! Hrrn, fan, I’m- *gasp* Fan! I’m your- *wheeze* I’m your biggest- *Gasp* I’mSoSorryINeedToLeave NOW.

Or

Visor: I’m so sorry to bother you but... could you... sign something for me?

Tracer: Oh! I’d be happy to! *Humming* Do-do-do, there we are! Now let’s get to work!

Or

Tracer: Hey, Bayani, how’re you holding up? I know it can be scary, all this.

Visor: I’m not scared! ... Well, maybe a little nervous. But I’m good, I’ll be good. Thanks.

OR, map specific to King’s Row (not an interaction per se, but Tracer adjacent) 

Visor: Oh, my, gosh! I’m in Tracer’s home town, I can’t believe this is happening! I think I’m gonna pass out!

45) Give us an in-game interaction between your character and Reinhardt. 

Visor: Oh wow, Reinhardt Willhelm! It’s an honour to meet you sir. (whispering) You look even cooler than in you posters...

Reinhardt: Ahaha! The honour is mine, it is nice to meet a fellow warrior fighting for justice!

Or (this is the same as the tracer one, just either can answer it)

Visor: I’m so sorry to bother you but... could you... sign something for me?

Reinhardt: Of course! ... Er, perhaps we should wait until after the mission though?

Lore Note: Rein’s huge power armour hands do not look like they can hold pens very well. That’s the tea.

46) Give us an in-game interaction between your character and Roadhog. 

Roadhog: *Heavy Breathing*

Visor: WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME???

Ahem. Sorry that just slipped out let me.... come up with a real interaction.... (seriously the first time you gave me hanzo and visor now this??? WHAT am I supposed to do)

Nope, i can’t do it. the canon is that, even non-canonically Visor and Roadie do NOT interact. Not verbally. Visor waves, Roadhog gives a long, silent, mask-covered stare, and then Visor sweats profusely while looking terrified and leaves. There’s your interaction.

50) Give us an in-game interaction between your character and Lucio. 

Visor: Woah, international superstar DJ Lúcio Correia dos Santos is here!?

Lucio: Keep it down man, I’m tryn’a keep a low profile!

Lore Note: I know, I know, the game isn’t canon, Lucio isn’t actually joining a bunch of vigilantes, mercenaries and his personal arch nemesis to shoot his and their clones in random yet critical locations around the globe. BUT, I still find it hilarious to completely ignore that and pretend that Frog-DJ Beyonce-with-a-gun is actually Doing That.

Bonus) Do they have a Canon OW character crush?

I’ve got a post floating around here somewhere, where in the tags I make mention of Visor having an aforementioned poster of young Jack and Gabe, and also the naughty dreams it has sparked therein, and for my boy’s dignity I shall not get into it. But first of all, Jack and Gabe, specifically as, Jack and Gabe.

Further, McCree and Lucio, in very different ways; he finds them both attractive in very different ways, but also like, he crushes on Lucio the same way one crushes on a Hemsworth, he’s pretty and famous, but that’s all there is too it. With McCree, he loves listening to him talk about his Blackwatch days, and when he found out he’s Trans too they really bonded over that, in a “wow one of my heroes is just like me” kinda way, so that’s more of a like, friend-crush, or mentor-crush even. it’s like crushing on your pretty teacher. In both cases he doesn’t think of them in “I want a relationship” terms or even “I’d tap that” terms, it’s all just infrequent daydreams and aesthetic appreciation.

Genji’s a snac and we all know it. Bisexual disaster Young Genji would have hit on Visor and he would have been putty in his hands we all know it. First time Genji took his mask o Visor got palpitations AND WE ALL KNOW IT.Now as for platonic girl-crushes, he’s a Sym boy, all the way. Queen stepped out of a teleporter one day and he was like “!? Damn now I KNOW I’m gay, and also that God is clearly real” He cried when he first saw her, and was compelled to give her all of the money in his wallet. She once stepped on his toes and he said he was sorry. One time he saved Sombra’s life and to repay the debt she set up a shopping trip where they could all hang out, and he and Sym are besties now. They have inside jokes and quote each other. Sombra hates it.

[andonewillbringhisfall]

Tired of hiding

This one is for the lovely anon who sent me the prompt. I really really hope it lives up to your idea and how you imagined it. *crosses fingers* *worries*

(Note to everyone else reading this - the idea and most of the storyline isn’t mine)

Summary: Baz starts going to an LGBT+ club at Watford, Simon finds out and it changes the way he sees Baz

Warning: homophobia (well... kind of. It may all just be a big misunderstanding)

BAZ

There’s a flyer on the door of Mummers House.

This isn’t the first time some random eighth year has decided to start up a club dedicated to whatever thing they’re interested in. The posters will start popping up around the school hallways and on bathroom doors, hanging on for a week or so before they fall and are trampled to the ground.

It’s all about finding people with common interests and common backgrounds. They have them for different nationalities and sports and types of magic. I always read them when I see a new one, eyes scanning the page as quickly as possible as I walk past. I don’t know what I’m hoping to find; a vampire club, where you can meet other blood-sucking monsters and exchange tips on how to avoid getting your fangs ripped out?

I pause when I see the heading on the poster. LGBT+ committee meeting!! Based on the painful overuse of glitter and exclamation marks, I guess that the club is run by Trixie the pixie.

Maybe this is what I was hoping to find. A small, safe space where I can indulge in letting my guard down just for one hour a week. Not pretending I’m everything my father wants me to be, not living up to the Old Families’ expectations, not playing my role as Simon Snow’s cruel and heartless nemesis.

I’m tired of hiding everything. The vampire thing, and my feelings for Snow, and anything the Families ask me to do, I have to hide. Because it’s the only way for me to survive and be able to play my part in this war. This, I shouldn’t have to hide.

But it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not going to go to the meeting. I’m a Pitch; we don’t seek comfort and understanding in the arms of others. We’re supposed to be strong, aloof.

I don’t need this. I don’t need them.

I curl my lip at the flyer and push past, into Mummers House.

*

The posters keep popping up. In the classrooms, out in the courtyard, on the walls. There’s even one at the entrance to the Catacombs.

I have to admit that I’m curious. I don’t really know who else is LGBT+ in Watford, apart from Trixie and Keris and a few other couples from younger year levels who are overly fond of public displays of affection. It isn’t the kind of gossip that interests the people in my circles.

Nobody important is going to be there, surely. No-one who would bother telling my father, or (arguably) worse, Snow. I don’t think Bunce and her roommate are on especially friendly terms.

I think about it for a week. And then two weeks. And the more I think about it, the more I realise I’m actually seriously considering going to the meetings.

More posters start popping up, advertising a Pride event that Trixie wants to run. I find myself taking a detour to walk past the classroom on the afternoon the club is supposed to run, and I look through the window to see a small group of about ten people sitting around talking. Most of them are in younger year levels. None of them belong to the Old Families.

Finally, I make up my mind. I’m allowed to have just this one thing. I grab my violin case, just in case Snow is watching when I leave the room, and walk back the way I came.

At least twenty minutes of the meeting have already passed, but I decide that if I’m going to come out, I may as well make an entrance. I also know that if I decide to wait until next week, I’ll probably talk myself out of going.

Everyone looks up when the door swings open. If Trixie is surprised to see me, she hides it well.

‘Sorry I’m late,’ I drawl.

‘No problem,’ Trixie says brightly. ‘Grab a chair.’

I do as she says, leaning back in my chair and folding my arms over my chest.

‘So, this is probably a given,’ she says, ‘but this is a safe space and we don’t share anything anyone says without their permission. Cool?’

I nod.

‘Great. Okay, we were talking about ideas for Pride…’

*

I don’t say another word for the entire meeting, and no-one seems to expect me to. The others brainstorm ideas for Pride and start talking about getting flags and banners for the event. There are two fourth year girls who keep sneaking glances at each other, before finally introducing themselves. Another girl starts raving about some book she read last week, and soon the whole group is giving out LGBT+ reading recommendations and talking about representation (or lack thereof) in TV shows.

It’s just… easy. I tune out of half the conversations, but it’s nice to just be able to sit there and not have anyone expect anything from me. I’m probably not going to meet someone here (as if I could ever have feelings for someone other than Simon fucking Snow) and I’m not going to have any life-altering revelations. At this point I don’t even know if I’ll ever talk to them, about anything serious I mean, but it’s nice to know that I could if I wanted to.

‘Thankyou for coming, Baz,’ Trixie says, smiling at me at the end of the meeting. ‘I hope you’ll be back next week.’

I will.

 *a few weeks later*

SIMON

I return from the library with a stack of books under my arm and throw them down on my desk. Two of them clatter to the ground. I ignore them, heading across to open the window and let in the breeze. I know Baz will complain about it later; I’ll ignore him too.

After eating an Aero bar and tidying my bed, I force myself to return to my desk. I pick the books up off the floor and open one of them at random.

Thirty minutes and a meagre half-page of notes later, I snap the book shut and stretch. The room has cooled down since I opened the window, and –

I frown, looking over at Baz’s empty bed.

Where is Baz? I do a quick calculation in my head and realise it’s been at least a couple hours since I knew where he was.

Now that I think about it, he’s been gone a lot over the last few weeks at times he would normally be in the room. Given the fact that he’s been plotting to kill me for eight years, not knowing where he is worries me.

I should know. I haven’t been keeping tabs on him properly. Maybe he noticed that and has been taking advantage of it the whole time. Who knows what he might be planning?

I go to the window and look out at the pitch, even though I know football practice isn’t on at this hour. It’s still daytime so he’s definitely not hunting. I notice his violin case on his desk, so I know he isn’t just practicing somewhere. Something catches my eye and I move closer. There’s a tiny corner of something red poking out of the top of the case. What if the violin isn’t actually in the case, and the whole thing is just a cover? I glance at the door and tiptoe over to the case – as if Baz can somehow tell that I’m crossing to his side of the room – and open it as carefully as I can.

It’s a rainbow flag. The thing that was poking out of the case is the top corner. I stare at it, confused. There’s a bunch of other paraphernalia, like a badge clipped to the inside of the case and a rolled-up poster which says ‘I’m here I’m queer’. My mouth falls open in shock.

This must be for Trixie’s Pride thing, I’ve seen the posters around the school. Is that where Baz has been going all these weeks? But if he’s… oh.

Aleister Crowley.

Baz is gay. Baz – my roommate. My nemesis. I never thought…

I hear a sharp intake of breath behind me and find Baz standing in the doorway. I didn’t hear him come in (of course, fucking stealthy vampire). I’m still holding the poster and staring at it and probably looking like a total moron. I gape at Baz instead.

‘Snow,’ he growls, marching forward and snatching the poster out of my hand. ‘What the fuck are you doing with my stuff? Ever heard of privacy?’

‘I – you’re –’

I’m still gaping at him and getting the distinct impression that I’m handling this exactly how you’re not supposed to handle it when you find out someone’s gay (like this changes everything.) (Why does it feel like this changes everything?). But… it’s Baz.

‘Yeah, I’m gay, congratulations Snow you figured it out, only took you about eight years.’ He tosses the poster back in the violin case and slams it shut.

‘I didn’t mean – I mean, I wasn’t trying to –’ Instinctively I step back across to my side of the room.

‘Whatever. It’s not a secret. And it’s none of your business so you can fuck off.’

I hold my palms up. ‘Okay. Crowley. No need to get defensive.’

It’s a good thing Baz is so pissed that he leaves the room (or is he embarrassed? I’ve never seen Baz be embarrassed in all the eight years I’ve known him), because I need time to think about this.

I’m not sure why. I mean, it doesn’t mean anything or change anything – I know that. He’s still an evil git. Well, I suppose it does mean he was probably never after my girlfriend (ex-girlfriend). Which means he was probably just leading her on to fuck with me. Arsehole.

Has he ever had feelings for a boy? Like Niall, maybe? I wince. I don’t know why the thought of Baz having feelings for someone makes me so uncomfortable. It’s just… he’s evil.

I know I shouldn’t be making such a big deal out of this. I swear I’m not homophobic and I don’t care if he likes girls or guys. But. I just. It seems like a big deal. Catching him out with a secret like that made him seem… vulnerable. Human. I don’t know. I guess it’s hard to think of him as someone who can have emotions other than disgust and sadistic amusement. Someone who has things that he worries about, and who feels lonely sometimes (why else would he have gone to Trixie’s club?).

It’s making me rethink all of our history. For one thing, it means there was never any chance of Baz and Agatha becoming a thing. Crowley, there’d be more chance of Baz and I becoming a thing. I mean, not that he would, of course – obviously – but Baz could like me.

I freeze. What the fuck? No. I need to stop obsessing. This is what happens when I think too much.

BAZ

As soon as he finds out, everything seems to change.

Snow doesn’t say a word when I’m finally brave enough to come back to our room. In fact, he barely looks at me, though he does turn bright red, keeping his face buried in some Politickal Science assignment. I stare at him for a second, trying not to feel hurt. I tell myself he just needs time to process it and get over the shock (honestly, why is it so shocking?).

But days pass and Snow doesn’t return to his usual blustering, growling self.

I start to think that maybe he’s figured it all out. That he’s the one I love (and that I only hate him when loving him gets to be too much). But I don’t think Snow is observant enough to realise that, or self-assured enough to believe it even if the thought did cross his mind.

I miss our antagonism. I miss watching him spark and come alive.

‘That’s impressively pathetic, Snow, for a second-year spell,’ I sneer when he tries to spell his tie done and it ends up knotting in at least three different places. He blushes and doesn’t even glance at me, and later I see Bunce fix his tie at breakfast.

I try again when Snow returns from a meeting with the Mage.

‘Send you off to do more of his dirty work, did he?’ No response. ‘I’m shocked he actually visited the school he’s supposed to be running,’ I continue. ‘How long is he staying for? Two days?’

Even the need to defend the Mage isn’t enough to get him to look at me or speak to me at all.

He doesn’t even leave the window open anymore, like he’s scared of pissing me off and having to talk to me.

And it fucking hurts. Snow has always hated me, but this is different. He’s always hated me for who my family is and for the fact that I’m a vampire and out to get the Mage and, well, I have been known to try to kill him on occasion. But now he’s avoiding me like the plague, he won’t even look at me, he won’t even fight me, and all because I like boys. What is his problem? How the fuck is it any of his business, why does it matter to him? (He doesn’t even know that I’m hopelessly in love with him.)

Now I’m not just in love with a boy who hates me because of circumstance and because I’ve been cruel to him, who hates all the things about me that make me a monster. Now it turns out that he also hates the one good thing I’m still capable of, the way I love.

Fuck him.

I give up on Snow, I give up on Trixie’s club.

Fuck my life. I give up.

SIMON

Fuck.

Fuck my life.

Seriously.

Why did I ever find that flag? Why couldn’t Baz close his fucking violin case properly?

Fuck.

It’s been two weeks since I found out and I just. I can’t stop thinking. That, well. Maybe I like Baz?

It just never occurred to me before that it could be a possibility. But now that it has I haven’t been able to get the thought out of my mind. I can’t even look at Baz anymore without thinking about it. And thinking about liking Baz inevitably leads to other things like thinking about Baz’s eyes and Baz’s hair and Baz’s lips…

And I can’t stop. Fucking. Thinking.

I’ve been avoiding him, and it hasn’t helped. I’m always wondering where he is and what he’s doing and what he’s thinking and if he’s thinking of me. And then I realise, with growing dread, that it’s always been like that. I’ve always wondered those things, pretty much constantly, since fourth or fifth year at the very latest.

So yeah. I think I might be gay for Baz.

But I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m just projecting somehow because I know he’s gay and I’m his roommate. How do I know if I’m gay?

I need to talk to Trixie’s club.

*

There are more people here than I thought there would be.

I’m peering through the classroom window. I’m not going in there while Baz can see me. He’s so fucking smart, he would probably guess it immediately, and I’d never live it down. But Baz doesn’t seem to be there, so when everyone starts leaving, I hang back and go in to talk to Trixie.

‘Simon?’ she says.

‘Hi. Um. I just. Hi. This is cool,’ I say lamely, gesturing around me.

‘Yeah, thanks. You should come to Pride. Bring your friends,’ she says, handing me a flyer.

‘Cool. I will. Hey, um. I was just wondering. Where’s Baz?’ I blurt out.

‘Oh,’ Trixie says. Then, ‘ohhh. Sorry, Simon, he hasn’t been to the last two meetings.’

‘Oh. Why?’

‘I don’t know. He just stopped coming.’

‘Right. Thankyou,’ I say, running out of the classroom, stuffing the flyer in my pocket as I go.

Baz hasn’t gone to the meetings ever since I found the flag in his violin case. Why, then? Is it because of me? Is he worried that I’ll out him, or that I’ll show up to one of the meetings?

Did I ruin this for him? I know I didn’t react very well when I found out, but I’m his enemy, what was I supposed to say? He hasn’t behaved any differently towards me, biting out his usual snide remarks and making his disdain for my existence perfectly clear. Over the years I’ve built up a tolerance to Baz’s insults, so there’s only a dull ache rather than tears like in first year, but now every cruel word that comes out of his mouth is like a knife to the gut.

Because yeah, I think I might like him, and he still hates me. And not even the way I’ve always hated him - for being cold and unshakeable and my nemesis. He hates me because he thinks I’m hopeless and a disgrace and a waste of magic. I can’t even look at him anymore because I’m scared it will all show on my face.

Stupid. I should never have let my thoughts run away like this. I should never have let myself like him. Because Baz is vain and graceful and fucking perfect at everything he does, and all I am is a huge mess. I haven’t got a chance in hell.

*

I trudge back up the stairs to our room.

He’s at his desk, and I hate the way my chest flips when I see him, dark hair just brushing his shoulders. I especially hate realising that my heartrate has always sped up when I walk into this room, long before I had any idea that he was gay. Or that I might be. (Or I might be bi. Because I do think I loved Agatha once. Might have to talk this through with Trixie.)

He doesn’t turn around, even when I bump into my bed – twice – and almost fall on my face (stupid crush making me clumsy). He doesn’t even turn around when I pull out my wand and start practicing spells, even when I narrowly avoid smashing the window, and it’s not like Baz to give up an opportunity to mock me.

Finally, I throw my wand down in frustration, and it clatters on the floor. Baz looks up. I feel a small sense of triumph, but he looks away without comment, and it’s not enough.

‘Why haven’t you been going to Trixie’s meetings?’ I ask abruptly.

His head snaps back to look at me.

‘What?’

‘Trixie said you haven’t shown up to the last two meetings. Why?’ I plant my hands on my hips and jut out my chin, then change my mind and fold my arms over my chest.

‘How the fuck is it any of your business?’ Baz spits. ‘Why were you talking to Trixie?’

I hesitate. ‘Because I – I was just – curious about. Her club. And. What you’re up to.’ His grey eyes are trained on me, and I’m burning up under the force of his glare.

This is the only way Baz will ever look at me. The thought makes my chest ache.

‘I’m not up to anything,’ he says. ‘Aleister fucking Crowley.’ He snaps his laptop shut and stands up.

‘Where – where are you going?’ I hate the tremor in my voice. I hate that I want him to stay.

‘Away from you.’

BAZ

He doesn’t say anything until I’m almost at the door.

‘Baz.’ His voice drops on the last consonant. I should know better by now, but I stop and wait to hear what he has to say. Because everything about Simon Snow is a spectacle and despite everything, I always want to know what’s in his head.

‘What.’ I turn my head slightly, but keep my body facing the door.

‘How – how do you know that you’re gay?’

I snarl. ‘I just do.’

‘But how?’

‘Crowley, Snow, I don’t know. I just know. Exactly the same way you know that you’re straight.’

He’s quiet, too quiet, and the silence stretches on a few seconds too long. ‘I –’

I turn around so fast I almost trip over my own feet. ‘What?’

He’s biting his lip.

‘What, Snow?’ I should just shut up. He’s not saying – no.  He’s not.

‘Do you have feelings for a bloke?’ he says, ignoring me, ignoring what he almost said. I’ve never seen him blush this much, and for Snow that’s saying a lot.

‘Why would I talk about that with you?’ I snap.

‘Is that how you know?’ he continues. ‘When you have feelings for someone?’

‘What are you getting at?’ My tone is weary, but if he doesn’t get to the point soon, I might very well strangle him, Anathema or no Anathema.

He takes a deep breath and then exhales, loudly and slowly. He couldn’t possibly be drawing this out any longer and it’s fucking killing me.

‘I just – I – you hate me. I shouldn’t. I just,’ he stammers.

‘Spit it out, Snow,’ I growl, walking up to him. He’s making me hope, and I hate that, because I’ll probably be disappointed, and I’ll hate myself for imagining that he was about to say that he likes me. I can’t help it, I almost believe it right now, when he’s bright red and stuttering and not quite meeting my eyes.

‘For fuck’s sake, Snow, tell me.’ He’s inches away, blue eyes settled on an invisible point on my forehead. He swallows nervously. It’s too much. I reach for his collar (I don’t know what I’m planning to do.) (Kiss him? Kill him?)

He backs away. ‘I think I like you,’ Snow blurts, his eyes finally locking onto mine. My hand curls around his tie, and I push him back into the wall.

‘Anathema,’ he mumbles, his hand closing over my wrist, trying to pull me away. His expression is panicked. I duck my head forward and kiss him, and he goes completely still.

My eyes are closed. I can feel his heart pounding against my chest, and his mouth is warm, and he tastes like cherries and butter, and I keep pushing and kissing him until I finally feel him pushing back, his hands moving up my arms and then into my hair, and Aleister Crowley, I’m living a charmed life.

SIMON

I’m on my tiptoes.

I’m kissing Baz.

I’m still not sure how this is happening. I didn’t want to tell him. I wasn’t planning on it, but I’m shit at hiding my feelings, and somehow that led to Baz kissing me against a wall.

I want to ask him how long he’s wanted this. I want to ask him how it’s possible for him to kiss me like this, his hands brushing the sides of my face so gently, when he’s always hated me, and he’s always done everything he can to make me miserable. I could barely understand my own feelings, how am I supposed to understand his?

But then his hands wind through my hair and he presses another kiss to my jaw and I stop thinking. I’ll think about all that later. Right now it’s all too much, so I give in, and I pull him closer.

BAZ

We go to the next club meeting together. Nobody seems surprised, funnily enough.

Snow can’t seem to stop smiling and finding excuses to touch me, and I eventually give up rolling my eyes at him, and I start bringing cherry scones up to our room after dinner, just so I can see that dopey affectionate look in his eyes, one I’ve never seen before and that I can’t get enough of.

The Pride event Trixie has been organising finally comes around.

‘Do you want to go together?’ Simon mumbles to me the night before, when we’re cuddling on his bed.

‘To Pride?’

‘Yes. I want… I want people to know. If you want.’

I kiss the mole beneath his left ear. ‘Okay. I’d like that, Simon.’

*

It seems like half the school is there. I wear my badge, and Simon leaps around waving his flag like an idiot (my idiot), and we walk in holding hands. Wellbelove looks shocked. I kiss the back of Simon’s hand and smirk at her, just to watch her mouth fall open. Simon dances up to Bunce, who rolls her eyes and groans.

‘It all makes so much sense now,’ she says. ‘Honestly, this explains so much.’

*

‘Thankyou,’ Simon says later.

‘For what?’

‘Today. This. Everything. For taking me to Pride.’

‘We should be thanking Trixie. If she hadn’t started the club, you might never have realised your true feelings. Moron.’

Simon grumbles, wrapping his arms around my waist. ‘You could’ve just told me.’

I scoff. ‘Sure, Snow. That would’ve gone down well.’

He stares up at me, suddenly serious.

‘I like this better than fighting,’ he says.

‘Yeah. So do I.’

And I’m tired of hiding.

The whole school knows about us now, and no doubt soon my father will too, and I don’t know what’s going to happen then. I decide to take a page out of Simon’s book and just not think about it. Instead, I let him convince me that I’m not alone, with his arms wound around me, and with his eyes that can’t seem to look away from me, and with the way he smiles when I kiss him.

And, for him, I let down my walls.