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“No more spicy crisps before bed, Snow,” Baz says. “I can’t handle flamin’ hot morning breath.”
“You’re such a prick.” I’m laughing, lightly pushing at Baz’s shoulders. He falls back against the pillows, hair in his eyes, smirking up at me where I’m straddling his hips. It’s already late morning, the sun filtering through the curtains. The dust motes look like pixie dust. Baz doesn’t have class until this afternoon, and we’ve yet to find our way out from under the covers.
“Yes, and a bully. And a snob. And a complete arsehole.” Baz’s voice is light, but there’s a tightness in his eyes that I almost miss.
“Well, I didn’t say all that.” I poke his cheek. He swats my hand away, then immediately grabs it and laces our fingers together.
“Not today,” Baz says. I furrow my brow and poke at his cheek with my other hand. He lets me, so I trace the line of his jaw too.
“I said that?”
Baz nods.
“Why do you remember those words, specifically?”
Baz only shrugs. He does that a lot more now. (I think he gets it from me.) I heave a deep sigh. (I think I get that from him.)
“I used to say a lot of things to you that I didn’t mean,” I say. He turns his face into my hand, closing his eyes.
“I’m pretty sure you meant it all at the time,” Baz says.
“Maybe.” I bend down to press my lips to his eyelid. “But what did I know back then?”
Baz squeezes my hand but doesn’t open his eyes. I lean forward and rest my full weight on my chest, wrapping my wings around us. My mouth is near his ear now.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry I spent so much time hurting you when I should have been loving you.”
“It’s not like I’m innocent in this,” Baz whispers back. His voice is thick.
I was so off the mark with him, wasn’t I? Years wasted thinking he was some villain to be defeated, a monster waiting for the right moment to drain me dry. He’s got a sharp tongue, sure. He’s got much-needed walls of defences. But this is Baz: soft and sweet in our cheap IKEA bedding, his face hidden in the space where my shoulder meets my neck.
I want to go back in time and sock teenage me in the jaw. I’d also tell him that Baz wouldn’t bite us even if we begged for it. That we would beg for it, one day.
“You’re not innocent,” I agree. “But it’s different. I wasn’t using all your words as evidence I was an unlovable monster.”
I hear Baz scoff, so I pull back a bit to see his face. His grey eyes are open now, and he rolls them once he’s sure I can see it. This conversation feels bigger than this moment, but I don’t think Baz is in the mood to expand on it. So I just say the thing that matters right now.
“I love you,” I say. I smile at him, big and goofy. Baz’s lip twitches. I lean down and kiss each of his cheeks, right in the spots that fill up when his fangs pop, then bump my forehead against his. “All of you.”
Baz winds a hand into my hair and pulls me down to meet his lips.