Hey guys! I just wanted to say a huge thank you for all the amazing comments you've given! :) This is the last chapter! Sorry it's taken so long (blame homework)- but I hope you enjoy!

"You know he's a vampire, now. Isn't that what you wanted?" Penelope sighed. She was laying on her stomach on Simon's bed, her feet kicking the air. Her eyes followed Simon as he paced the room.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know, but- something's wrong." Simon's eye brows were furrowed and his hands were behind his back. "I just need to talk to him some more while the potion lasts."

Penelope rolled her eyes. "You've known Baz for years Simon. You probably know him better than anyone else in the whole world."

Simon stopped pacing. "Well, that's a scary thought."

She ignored his comment, "If you were Baz, where would you go if your roommate just drugged you and exposed your greatest secret?"

His eyes lit up, "Of course."

The catacombs were disgusting. Simon already spent far too many nights trying to track down Baz in the dusty darkness, he really didn't want to try and find him during the day. But there was still a question he needed to ask, and if Baz really wanted to hide, this would be the place.

Simon held his torch in front of him, keeping his eyes peeled. He passed archway after archway, but didn't hear a sound.

That's when Simon noticed something he had never seen before. On the cool stone catacomb wall, there was a quote engraved, "veritas liberabit vos"

Simon leaned forward and hastily brushed the years of grime and dust off the words, as if that would somehow make him understand. "What does this mean?" he mumbled to himself.

Out of the darkness, Baz's forced voice responded, "It means the truth will set you free- oh, are you fucking kidding me-"

Simon spun around, and turned left into a small chamber, where Baz was scowling in the corner, looking ready to bite.

"Baz," Simon felt a wave of relief. This truth potion was working out better than imagined.

"Snow," he snapped and glared to the ground. This absolutely could not end well. Simon stepped forward, blond hair looking even lighter in the glow of his torch.

"I. . . I need to know why you're so mean to me."

Baz's mouth spread into a cruel smirk. It wasn't a question. He didn't have to answer honestly. Silly Snow with his stupid grammar.

"I know," Simon continued, "I know what you're thinking. But . . . I don't want to make you answer, I just. . . I want you to want to tell me the truth. I know we don't exactly get along-" Baz scoffed. Understatement. "but, we've been roommates for five year. Crowley, I think you might owe me a bit of honesty. I've always been honest with you, probably more than I should have. You were there for, for when I was a first year who would cry after every failed test."

The chamber was dead quiet for a moment, before Baz (while definitely not smiling fondly, nope, not at all) murmured, "you did fail a lot of tests."

Simon couldn't stop a smile from slipping out, "Yeah. And- and you saw me try to charm myself a mustache after Malcom grew one when we were thirteen."

"You walked around school with a Gandalf beard for a week," Baz just had to laugh, "I'm fairly confident that everyone saw you."

Simon turned thoughtful, "Yeah but. . . you saw it close. Personal. I just think that maybe we- if you weren't so- just always-"

"Use your words, Chosen One."

The Chosen One glared, clearly exasperated. "Like that. I don't understand why you have to be so mean all the time."

There were a million replies swimming in Baz's mind. Because you're a egomaniac who needs to be cut down to size. Because you're such an annoying child who doesn't have parents to discipline him. Because you make it so easy. But none of those were the truth.

"I don't have to," Baz finally settled with. Not a full lie, just a half truth.

"Then why?" Simon pleaded, and with one interrogative sentence, all of the words were dragged out of Baz's mouth.

"Because being mean to you and making you hate me is easier than us being friends. Glares, and icy shoulders, and insults can give me something else to think about besides your kindness, and your laugh, and your body. I can try and fool myself when we're sitting at opposites ends of every classroom- but if I was nice to you? If I had to talk with you and joke with you, and sit with you at lunch while you inhale those stupid scones- I'd go out of my mind! Every smile in my direction would just tear me apart inside, because you're like this beautiful, perfect thing that I can never, ever hold so yeah, forgive me for wanting to keep my fucking distance-"

Baz could've gone on. He could've written paragraphs about the benefits of staying away from Simon Snow- novels. Baz could've stood in that small, dirty room in that dark, dreary catacomb for days and rambled on about why being mean to Simon was the only solution.

But he didn't get a chance.

Because Simon had all at once closed the distance between them, landing his mouth on his, cutting Baz off mid-rant.

They were kissing. It was the single greatest moment in Baz's life.

And that was the truth.