As much as I love London, our apartment, therapy being just around the corner, and my job at the bakery, I wish I could move out here with Baz, or at least have the guts to ask him to “maybe, someday” do it.
Or even to just unrealistically dream about it together. I’m good with that, too.
I simply can’t stop picturing it. Living in a cottage like this one, far away from the city and the noise and the craziness of the world. Just enjoying nature, and relaxing, and being happy together. Me being able to fly whenever I want, Baz being able to feed properly and hunt out in the woods instead of looking for rats in dirty alleys and garbage pails behind restaurants. He’s studying online, so that wouldn’t need to change. I could bake for fun, instead of doing it for the job, and I could even try out more recipes (normally I don’t really have the time to do that). We could even, I don’t know, live off his family money – as much as I’d feel guilty, it’s not that big of a deal anymore, especially not if it means I can have this kind of dream life with Baz.
Maybe I could even convince him to have some pets out here – he’d be feeding well since he’d be able to hunt, and I was always great helping Ebb with the goats, so maybe we could get some of those? I’d definitely look forward to taking care of a pet, especially some kind of farm animal. Or… Well… We could even consider having kids. It definitely seems more appropriate than starting a family as we live now. Daphne is always talking about how children shouldn’t grow up in big, crowded cities like London and those tiny apartments – she’s a suburban mum. Can you imagine growing up in a place like this ? Except, I don’t really know where exactly Baz stands on having children.
I should bring that up sometime. All of that.
Ugh, how do I even get to it? I would sound so stupid. Hey, we’ve been staying here in your family’s cottage for a few days and it’s been so perfect that I was just wondering if we could run away from society together and just live here forever, possibly among goats? Also, do you want to have kids?
No, actually, scratch that. It doesn’t matter if it would sound stupid. I should ask anyway. Be confident, Snow.
I need to face Baz. I mean, not only in the figurative “speaking my mind to him, no matter how dumb I think I may sound”, but literally, right now. I’ve been flying around for quite some time, and he’s been calling me to come inside for a while. It’s probably going to rain soon, the wind is getting stronger and, I don’t know, just weird. But flying around is so good, and it’s been so long – I wish I could do this every day. Which I could, I guess, if we would live in a place like this.
Which brings us to the whole “I need to talk to him” deal. These last few days, everything we do and everything that happens around us turns me to these fantasies. I keep catching myself slipping into a daydream all the time . Instead of my usual, normal obsession with Baz that makes me think of him in a “ everything-always-brings-me-back-to-you” way, this whole thing is more like a “ everything-makes-me-think-about-spending-the-rest-of-my-life-with-you-and-I-am-going-insane-because-it’s-all-I-ever-think-about” way.
Maybe I should propose soon, is that what this means? Is that how – why people propose? I’m slowly going crazy and almost sure I’m physically in pain because of how much I love and adore you so would you please, please marry me so we could spend the rest of our days together and fulfill all our soft domestic daydreams and fantasies? Maybe that’s about right. They say that you know when you know , don’t they? I never have any idea what I’m doing relationship-wise, but I guess this – proposing – wouldn’t be the most terrible thing I could do.
And, seriously. Can you imagine an outdoor wedding in a place as graceful as this? Especially when you have magic on your side? It would be the most gorgeous thing. I bet Baz already has the perfect suit for the occasion – how could he not? He’s even more obsessed than I am – well, in this matter, at least, since he has been in this hell of consciously daydreaming about us since we were sixteen. Of course, this wasn’t exactly his sort of daydream when he was sixteen, but he started thinking about this way before I did. Anyways, even if we don’t end up living somewhere like this someday, I think I’d like our handfasting to be out here. There’s absolutely no better place to bind your life to someone you love, is there?
Shit. See? This is the kind of thing I’m talking about. My thoughts escalate too quickly when it comes to romantic Baz-related stuff. It’s lovely, but it’s also a nightmare. I’m not used to this level of obsessed romancing.
It’s getting windier. I should come down.
I never thought I’d be worthy of heaven, but the Gods, probably against their best judgment, clearly disagree with me.
Simon Snow. Every day I’m only more and more certain that you are, indeed, an angel.
When Simon finally comes down from his daily flying session (it’s so lovely to see him fly) (his wings are so beautiful), his hair is a mess, his wings are fluttering, and he’s got this mad soft look on his face. The most ethereal being I’ve ever had the pleasure to see.
— You’re late, Snow. I’ve called you a thousand times.
— I’m not late , darling, you just can’t stand being apart from me for more than five minutes.— He is late, but he’s right. I really can’t stand it.
— You say that now, but I bet you’re going to be disappointed to know that you missed the hunt. And we had planned to have dinner about fifteen minutes ago.
— Wait, — he’s frowning. He looks so cross. It makes me smile.— you went to the woods without me? Baz!
— It was getting late, love.— I grabbed his hand so we could go back inside.— And you know it’s going to rain any time now.
He's even pouting a little. Adorable.
— You should’ve told me, I’d come down in a second! You know how much I like to watch.
Crowley, I live in a world where it’s completely normal to have Simon Snow telling me he likes to watch me hunt and would postpone flying if that meant he could see me drain a deer. Still unbelievable.
He squeezes my hand a little, and I smirk at him.
— I know, dear. You’ve tagged along every time this week.
He blushes a bit and shrugs, smiling.
— It’s just so bloody cool! Well, also just bloody, I guess. I mean, literally bloody. You- Yeah, you get it.
I love him so much.
Baz was right. According to our previously established plans, I am late for dinner.
I can’t believe I missed him hunting. It’s been so nice to watch him these last few days. It’s always good to remember we have this kind of intimacy.
(Says the guy that can’t even ask his serious boyfriend about their future together. Ridiculous. Completely understandable, but ridiculous, still.)
He’s already set the table, of course. It looks amazing, he’s good with this stuff. (Terrible in the kitchen, can’t cook to save his life, but he knows how to make things look good.) (Even without fancy spells. It’s a natural talent.) (Though I’m sure he used magic for this .)
— This looks nicer than the last few days.— I didn’t mean to say it like that , but here we go.— Anything special for tonight, darling?
He gives me this soft look that makes my insides melt.
— We’re going back tomorrow, aren’t we? Thought we could finish up with style.
Shit. I completely forgot this was the last night here. It feels like a punch in the gut.
Just when I was getting used to all this freedom… All this peace.
(And to constantly thinking about marrying the hell out of Baz.)
I’m terrible at hiding these kinds of things, and Baz sees right through me. He cups my cheek softly and smiles.
— We can come back soon, love.— he assures me.— Oh, I almost forgot- I have something for you.
— It’s a surprise!
I give him my best eye-roll, but he just laughs a little, kisses my cheek, and runs outside. I’m pretty sure it’s starting to rain – I hope he doesn’t get wet.
He comes back with both hands hidden behind his back. Surprise, surprise.
— I saw these coming back from... feeding.— he smiles, and hands me what he was hiding. Flowers .
I’m pretty sure I gasp when I see them. It’s too much- Too pretty. Too lovely.
This bouquet is just a few pretty wildflowers he picked up on the way back to the cottage and a magicked yellow ribbon to tie them all together.
And it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Are my eyes watering ? Jesus .
I mean, sure, Baz has gotten me bigger, better-looking bouquets before. They’re usually big and come from the most amazing fancy spells, and don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore them too, but-
I feel like I just fell in love with him all over again.
— These are just perfect, Baz.— I can’t stop looking at the flowers, but I do give him a quick peck before I go back to admiring them.— Thank you so much, darling.
I feel like dancing. I feel like crying.
It’s insane how the simplest things can make you feel so much, isn’t it?
I don't care how cheesy this sounds- When I marry him, I want to be holding a bouquet just like this.
When we settle down at the dinner table, Simon seems lost, like he’s not sure what he would rather look at – me, the little bouquet got for him, or his meal. He mumbled something about how this is probably what heaven will be like for him – food, me, and “all the lovely things I do for him” (his words). I almost got up to kiss him for that.
Eventually, he settled for taking turns at making heart-eyes at me and at the flowers, now arranged in an improvised vase, while he blindly tries to fit an obnoxious zucchini lasagna in his fork, and then his mouth.
Have I mentioned how much I love him?
It’s a nice, silent meal in the first few minutes. Simon is too enamored by his food and his flowers to say anything, and I’m not one to talk while eating. I do have manners (and, sure, I might still be a little self-conscious about eating in front of people. It’s better with Simon, but, well. I’ll avoid it as much as I can. It’s him who always breaks the silence when we’re eating).
— So.— he says, mouth still half full. (I’ve taught you better manners, Snow.) — Uhm- Don’t you think it’s so nice that you can actually hunt out here?
I’m sure Simon is trying to play it cool and pass this off as just small talk, but this sounds... casual. Too casual. I try to be as discreet as possible when I lean a little to my side to check his tail – and there it is, wrapped around the chair’s leg so he can keep it from shaking.
— You can just say what you want to say, love.— I try to sound as tender as I can. (Lie. As tender as my pride allows. And I also need him to know that this can be a challenge, if he wants it to be. So as tender as that . I haven’t gone entirely soft, you know).— But, to answer your question, yes, it’s better than the city. I wouldn’t call it “nice” , though. It’s still hunting. Having to hunt. Now, what did you really want to ask?
He seems taken by surprise by my observational skills – which is always a mistake, and he obviously knows it by now. I spent half of my life watching Snow, it’s hard to hide things from me, especially with him being as transparent as he is. Usually, I only can’t figure out stuff because of my own stupid insecurities and irritating obliviousness, not because of Simon being hard to read – or trying to be.
— I, uh.— he looks down and concentrates on playing with his cutlery.— Um, you know.
I only raise an eyebrow, because he knows that I don’t .
— I was just, er, thinking.— he swallows in his characteristic showy way.
— You.— I tease.— Just thinking.
— Sod off.— he chuckles (still avoiding eye contact, I see).— But, yes. Just, you know, thinking about the, um, future?
Aleister Crowley, Simon Snow is just out there thinking about the future . Exceptional.
— The future.— I’m sure I have the giddiest smile on my face.— Sure.
— I knew you’d find it silly.— he murmurs, smiling softly. He looks shy, now looking at the flowers (closer to looking at me than a few seconds ago, but still not quite brave enough to meet my eyes).
— I don’t, Simon. I really don’t. It’s lovely.— I reach out across the table, grabbing his hand. Always so warm .— Now, tell me what exactly you were thinking about the future.
He stares nervously at our hands for a few seconds, and I wait. I know sometimes it takes him a while to really know what to say. Snow might have matured and grown, but he’s still Simon. Words are still a bit hard for him.
— I was… wondering.
He looks into my eyes for a second, and has the prettiest blush on his cheeks once he looks down again.
— Do you think we could… Like, maybe- Not necessarily soon , I don’t want to, um, pressure you or get ahead of anything-
— Snow.— As adorable as his babbling is, I feel the need to cut in.— You’ve got nothing to worry about. Nothing , alright? Hell, if you told me you wanted to get married tomorrow first thing in the morning I wouldn’t think that you “got ahead” of things. I think we’re way past that – honestly, I don’t think I’d ever think you were “pressuring me about the future”. You do remember that I have been in love with you since forever , right?
It’s all genuine – I’ve been thinking about Snow at least since I was fourteen, and it’s embarrassing how weak I am when it comes to him. I’ll do anything for him, without even questioning. And if he wants to talk about his future and it has something to do with me, is there even a single outcome that can make me not enjoy it?
I swear his heart skips a beat.
— I- I mean,— Crowley, is he choking? — I’d never do that to you. You need appropriate time to plan your fancy wedding.— I think about mumbling a “Bold of you to think I haven’t already” , because it is (we’ve been dating for how many years now? How dare he underestimate my controlling, obsessed habits. I’ve had a binder for wedding plans since we were 20!), but he beats me to it.— But this is kind of what I wanted to talk about. Er- Our future, I mean. Uhm, together. Of course.
I immediately feel my expression softening. I can’t say I’m more confident than he is in this matter – after we started dating, talking to each other about the future, our future, was always exciting and terrifying for us both. We’ve gotten better at it, but I guess some insecurities just feel like they’ve come to stay.
I’m pretty sure he’s shaking a little.
— Sure. Go on.— Merlin, how big is my smile right now? I need to go back to fighting my smiling muscles. Being this vulnerable for so long made me forget how to control them.
— Do… Do. Um.— he shakes his head, and brings a hand to his curls.— Do you think we could- No.— he laughs at himself.— Christ, this is hard.
— It’s okay.— I laugh with him. It’s a familiar sensation – Morgana knows how nervous I can still get when it comes to Simon Snow.— Just take a breath, love. You know, you can ask me anything.
Oh, darling, I wish I could.
Baz is so lovely – too lovely. I hate how I’m still so bad at this.
I close my eyes. You’ve gotten so much better. And he’s messy too, you know that. I need to keep reminding myself of that, even after all these years.
I do what he says – take a couple of deep breaths, try to calm myself down. I know he can hear my heartbeat, feel it while he’s holding my hand, stroking its back with his thumb. It’s comforting and perfect and I just want to cry and scream and kiss him and ask him to marry me. I settle for looking him in the eye.
He’s looking at me like I’m the most precious being in the world. That used to annoy me a bit, I think. Now I feel like that’s actually true. To Baz, as absurd as that is, I really am the most precious being in the world. His world.
He said he’d marry me tomorrow first thing in the morning, and now I’m wondering about how much of it was just a joke and how much of it was genuine. But I settle for a different question.
— Do you have any expectations about our future?
He snorts – actually snorts – and waves his hand dismissively.
— No, I’m not answering this before you tell me what you actually want to say. Just ask me what you want to know, Simon.
— That’s what I want to know!— I’m not lying , exactly. I would spend days doing nothing but listening to Baz talk about what he wants for our future together.
— You might want to know that, but you weren’t going to ask that! I know you, Simon- You can’t possibly think you’d fool me this easily.— he raises one of those perfect eyebrows. This hasn’t changed, either- Why does he always have to be right about everything?
— It’s- It’s just hard .— I give up, sighing. I melt into my chair- Time to open up, I guess.— I love you so, so much, and I don’t want to say the wrong thing or- Ugh, I don’t know how I could mess this up, but I’m confident I’m capable of it.
— Are you going to feel bad if I tell you to just spit it out, since I obviously love you at the very least as much as you love me and you couldn’t possibly mess anything up with me by asking me a question about our future together?
I just blink at him a few times.
— I mean- You kind of did.
— Not with the right tone .
I can’t help but chuckle. I love him so much.
I bite my lip.
— Can’t we just forget this and move on?
— Absolutely not!
I simply shrug. Baz sighs, determined.
— Would you like to try another approach? Do you want to- I don’t know, write it down or something?
— Nah, that’s stupid.— he makes a face . Wrong answer, I guess?— What? It is!
He sets his jaw forward and crosses his arms in front of his chest, challenging.
— Ask me the question, then.
I ignore his attempted-ultimatum and lower my gaze. I don’t want to back down from a challenge, but tonight deflective Simon is in control. And he’s an annoying little bitch.
— Are you going to eat that?— I point at his food with my fork. He lets out his best exasperated (lovely) sigh and hands me his plate.
— Now that I gave you food, could you please just tell me what’s going on?
On every level, I know what I’m doing is unnecessary. I’ve told Baz deeply embarrassing things, real cheesy stuff. This doesn’t have to be a big deal. And even if it is a big deal, it’s a manageable, even nice, one.
I take a big breath and look him in the eye.
I can see he’s trying not to smile.
— Just- give me a second.
He waits. I mentally tell deflective Simon to go fuck himself, and start talking.
— I’m sorry it’s so hard for me to talk about this kind of stuff- I constantly think about you and our future and I’m totally in love with you so everything just seems so- so important, you know? Heavy. Like I shouldn’t get anything wrong, ever, or this is going to fall apart.
— I’m familiar with the feeling.— he squeezes my hand. I had kind of forgotten that his hand was still out next to mine.— And I know this doesn’t help a lot, but I’m going to say it anyway- You’re allowed to get things wrong, and be messy, and be insecure. I also get things wrong, I’m also messy and insecure. And I love you. I love you so much , Simon. So you can ask me big questions, and you are allowed to be nervous about it. This is a part of being in a relationship. I still get nervous with a lot of things, too. We just need to talk to each other, right? We’ve been through worse, we just need to be honest and trust each other. That’s our deal. I’m going to be by your side no matter what, Simon. You can ask me whatever you want to know about the future. I guarantee you, I’ve thought about our future a lot . I can take it. You’re not pressuring me, this isn’t “too much”. We’ll just talk about it. We don’t even need to act on anything yet, you know. It can just be chatting about the future. Although acting on certain things definitely wouldn’t be… bad.
I sigh, smiling a little.
— So… I’ve been thinking about maybe moving here with you, someday. Not- Not here, like, here , your family’s cottage, but out here, in general. I mean, not that I would mind living here or anything- I love this place. But I just thought that maybe we could live somewhere I can fly and you can hunt and, you know. Just- It’d be nice, I think. Comfortable. And it suits us better than a small flat in London. Nothing against living in London, either! I just like this better. I’d totally live in London for, like, ever , but I think it would be nice to at least come here from time to time if we don’t actually, like, move here. This week has been so amazing and freeing and, I think we could enjoy this- Hm, this lifestyle, I guess? Yeah. Uh. This is it. Basically.
I can’t look him in the eye. God, this is stupid. I have to look at him. I do.
That’s probably the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on Baz’s face.
— Did you seriously think that I would feel bad about you asking me this?— he chuckles, and I’m pretty sure his eyes are a bit watery.— Simon, I think that would be lovely. And it’s too small for all my siblings here anyway, I can see if we could stay for a few months to see how it plays out. I don’t think father would object. No one really comes here.
Baz is looking at me expectantly. I can’t say anything, I’m afraid I’ll ruin the moment- or accidentally propose.
— Is this all?— he presses, raising an eyebrow. Stupid, gorgeous git, seeing right through me.
— Mostly, yes?— I’m affirming it, but it comes out as a question.— I think so, yes. At least for now.
He gets up, straightening his shirt out of habit.
— Do you want to get dessert to eat while we cuddle on the sofa and talk about the future?— he’s saying it as a joke, but those sound like solid plans.— Now you got me all excited about moving here. We have a lot to discuss.
— Yeah, but dessert first.
He laughs and kisses me (I don’t want him to let go) before he takes my empty plate and puts it on top of his to take them to the sink. He’s walking so lightly and happily, it’s almost like he’s hopping.
Should I ask him about it before I start looking for a ring?
I probably should, right?