Chapter Text
Baz
“ Snow ,” and I have to take a deep breath at how whiney my voice is becoming in irritation. “That incessant ball throwing needs to stop . Or you need to bounce it quietly .” I grind out.
It’s been roughly half a year of knowing Snow at this point, and every second of it has been punctuated by that annoying bright red ball he carries with himself everywhere. What Snow doesn’t say, he makes up for in the routine thud of that rubber against any surface he can find, and Snow hardly says anything. I would think him mute if it weren’t for the quiet apologies or quick questions he’ll stutter out on occasion.
And, I remind myself with a sudden pang of guilt, that Simon is constantly crying himself to sleep, and despite his best efforts, I hear him every night.
I hear one of those quiet ‘sorry’s now, and I sigh a little dejectedly as I get up to enter the restroom. To his credit, he does look guilty about it with how he’s now tucked himself together on his bed, but I pay it no mind as I shut the door between us and start to get out my toothbrush to begin my nighttime routine.
I’m interrupted however by the door to our dorm slamming open, startling me and causing my hand to freeze, floating inches from the faucet handle as I hold my breath.
“Simon,” comes a booming voice and I cringe back, hands covering my face as I gasp, realizing that the Mage himself has burst into our room.
I’ve only ever heard stories of the Mage. Even though he claims to be headmaster, he isn't around the school that much and most of our questions are dealt with by Mrs. Possiblef. The only time I got a good look at him was the welcoming ceremony at the beginning of the year and even then it was an ominous glance shrouded in shadow. Despite not seeing him however, I know well the horrors he’s putting the magical communities through and the cruel man everyone is facing in the war. The war that’s being prepared for me.
In a rush of excitement at this opportunity, I rush as quietly as I can to press myself to the door, straining myself to hear anything past the muted and warped drawl the man was preaching at the moment.
I huff in frustration, my annoyance only increasing as I hear the nervous bouncing of that demonic ball thudding into the floor in a quick beat covering up what little conversation I could make out. It almost reminds me of a heartbeat with the way its vibrations flow into the door, erratic and tense in the face of such anger.
With a startling crash that sends me reeling back from the wood, the room is silent before that warped aggression is rising to a climax. I can’t help but step back further in fear as the Mage’s voice rages, vibrations shaking the ancient wooden door I had just been pressed against.
I start to become weary of being so close to such anger, and then for some reason, my chest aches for Snow, out there facing it head on.
The tremors continue for a few minutes more before reaching a crescendo as the mage slams our door with a larger effort than he had when arriving.
The silence that follows is deafening, and even though I have no idea what was said, when I peak out of the restroom to see Snow’s tear streaked face as he trembles on the floor in front of his desk, I feel like I heard every word.
I take in his position as my jaw clenches. He wasn’t on the floor when I left him earlier. He wasn’t even near this side of the room. My eyes narrow as I remember the terrifying crash that had come before the silence and my heart plummets.
Simon refuses to even look in my direction. I can see the tears welling up in his eyes and his strained breaths before my gaze is drawn to his fist which clenches and strains against…
Nothing.
It’s like someone has laced my veins with fire.
“Where is it?” I ask sharply, a snarl cemented on my features as Snow curls further into himself at my tone.
Whether or not he understands my question, he shudders regardless, face wedging itself between his knees and fists vanishing beneath his chin.
I look at him a minute longer, waiting for any change before leaving the room in a huff, making sure the door closes softly behind me.
Simon
I must have been stupid to think that just because some magical opportunity was handed to me it meant that my life would be forever changed for the better.
It was supposed to be like a fairytale, like the ones they read to us at the home every night before lights out. A magical world opened up to a nobody. A person so ordinary and useless learning that they never reached their true potential cause they weren’t in a world meant for them.
That’s what being a chosen one meant, right? Helping people and helping yourself, finding a place to belong and establishing it for others. That’s what the stories taught.
I hesitantly peak out of my arms as more tears tumble down my cheeks.
I’m not sure wether or not I wanted Baz to stay.
Baz doesn’t like me at all, declared us enemies as soon as he shook my hand. Something about his family and the Mage and a war that was being built just for us. I don’t want to be in a war. I don’t think Baz does either, even though he’s enthusiastic about any mention of it. He jumps at any opportunity to belittle me or gather information that he allegedly reports back to his family.
I just don’t think he… gets it. Not yet.
If I had a family, I’d probably follow them blindly too, so I don’t blame him.
Baz is just another example of things that aren’t going right. I’m going to be stuck with him for years . Forever practically, and he hates my guts because of some stupid feud I don’t even know about.
Even the Mage seems to think I’m more trouble than I’m worth. He had come into my life in vibrant greens with that cool mustache and promised me that I was destined for greatness. That I was going to live in his world and save his people from a great evil.
I’ve been here ages though, and the Mage gets more disappointed every day.
I hadn’t meant to bounce my ball while he lectured. I didn’t know it was disrespectful. I was listening, I just needed to move.
I tuck myself back into my arms with a shudder as my back burns from where it had been shoved roughly into the desk, the mage’s form lunging at me behind my eyelids.
It’s not like I had much hope for the Mage. I learned long ago that people aren’t always what they seem in these scenarios, but the Mage is my only option right now. If I upset him too much, he’ll send me back and then that will mean there’s no world where I’m useful.
I cry harder at the thought. I wish I didn’t cry so much, that terrible embarrassment intertwining with the ever present ache that comes from the sadness dripping down my bones. It’s one thing to cry in the care homes where you’re just one sob out of ten in the early hours of the morning, it’s another when you’re in the nicest place you’ve ever stepped foot, sleeping next to a boy who’s never had to cry in his life.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting and crying before our door creaks open again. I’m startled by the noise, terror gripping my lungs even though I know the Mage and I are done for the night.
Baz peaks through and quickly looks away when he catches my stare. He keeps his movements slow as he moves into the room, standing in front of me as he closes the door silently behind himself.
He takes a deep breath before extending his hand slowly, unfurling his fingers to let something small and round roll out of his palm and onto the floor.
It’s a small red ball, and it rolls until it stops against my socked feet.
I stare up at him in shock, trying to catch his eye but he keeps his gaze determindly to his right.
I drop my gaze to the ball. It’s smaller than the one the Mage took from me, and it’s more pink than red. I want to touch it, to reach out and roll it between my palms, to see how it bounces, but I keep still, studying it silently before Baz scoffs, stepping closer.
“Well?” He asks, all haughty and full of tension.
Immediately I feel excitement and trust surge up my spine, not wasting a single second before the small object is in my hands, curiously tugging at the small white string that runs through it stubbornly.
When I throw him a questioning look his hand twitches near his side and I can see the indent from where he’s biting his cheek.
“This one is smaller, so it won’t be such a headache for me when you insist on bouncing it every damn second.” He huffs dramatically but it doesn’t answer my question.
I think of the words in my head, roll them around on my tongue before I can try to communicate.
“Why?” Is all that comes out, the word barely a whisper and I watch Baz’s shoulders drop as he asks himself the same question.
“I… need you distracted. With your attention glued to that infernal ball, it gives me more opportunity to plot against you without facing your suspicions,” Baz says airly, fanning his hand at me in a condescending manner before walking off towards the bathroom.
He keeps his face turned away from me but I can see the flush that tints the tip of his ears.
With a huge grin I wait till the door clicks shut behind him before hesitantly tossing the red ball at the old wooden door.
It rattles gently as the ball bounces cheerfully back to me and I cup it close to my chest as a hesitant knock rings clearly from the other side of the door.
Maybe being stuck with Baz forever won’t be as bad as I thought.