Time passed quickly, routine quickly settling into place. Most nights, Baz would be awake when I thundered back into the room, usually poised with a book in dim lighting, and looking at me like I'm the lowest scourge of the earth. We'd trade insults back and forth for a while, before I would lay down and pretended to sleep. Without fail, half an hour or so later, I'd feel Baz's eyes lock onto the back of my neck. I didn't always stay awake to witness it, though. After getting comfortable with the fact that Baz was watching me, I could sleep better than ever. He was my safety net. Somebody I could hold onto, so I knew that I wasn't dead yet. That I still had time before I had to save the world.

A fucking demented thing to think, really, when you take in all of Baz's winning qualities (Evil, vampire, out for my blood, probably doing that snake thing of sizing me up to eat me), but somehow true. It was unsettling how quickly I got used to it.

But my favourite nights would always be when I got back to Mummer's House late for some reason or another, and I'd find Baz cocooned in his blankets, a peaceful expression on his face. That would always be when I implemented my 'It's not weird because he did it first' policy, and keep an eye on Baz as we both navigated the suffocating haze of night. He hadn't had a nightmare since that first time, but that didn't mean I wasn't watching out for one. Ready to calm him down if he needed it.

And it was nice. Being with him without the fighting and insults and threats was, well, nice.

The problems always came when the sun came up.

I knew that things for Baz hadn't changed like they had for me. I still had no idea why the hell he was watching me, but even if it was for some sentimental reason, he didn't let it show in the morning.

He'd always greet me with an jibe at the ready. I'd throw my pillow at him with a muffled "Shut the fuck up."

Because that was what we did. Even if there was some other part to our relationship, which both of us were trying to hide from the other, in the end, we were enemies. Destined to kill, destined to die. Legends can't change without a conversation.

So I tried to have one.

One month after the routine had started, and Baz woke me up with a smirk and a "Better get yourself to breakfast before some sorry bastard steals one of your prized scones, Snow" as he finished a perfect knot on his tie.

I didn't reply for a moment. I just looked at him.

He quirked a brow (one of Baz's trademarks) "Struggling for a response?"

It was now or never. I coughed uncomfortably, trying to get my voice to a reasonable, non-cracking level.

"Baz," I tried, but stopped after the first word, leaving an awkward pause. He looked at me, and I could tell he was expecting me to trip over a string of insults. I wasn't. "Baz, I don't want to fight you anymore."

And that was it.

It wasn't exactly what I wanted to say, but I've never been good at finding words. Not when it really matters.

Baz's mask cracked for barely a moment, allowing me to see some sort of vulnerable surprise, before it slotted back into place. He laughed, turning, so he wasn't fully looking at me as he said "You can do whatever you want. Make it easier for me to kill you, or fight back for all I care. Just don't forget, Snow," He faced me again, making careful eye contact, as he enunciated each syllable "This will end in flames. You can't stop that by throwing down your sword and announcing your surrender."

Then he left the room abruptly, leaving me alone, miserable, and wondering what the fuck I'd exactly expected to happen. Baz's eyes to fill with tears as he told me that he doesn't want to fight either? To ride off into the sunset together on a fucking white horse as the movie credits roll?

Nothing really made sense to me anyway. For the first time since the whole charade started, I wished that I'd never woken up to find Baz watching me. Then I wouldn't have tried to make our easy antagonism anything more than it really was.

hr

The Wavering Wood was a good place to think. The forest nymphs left me alone as soon as I told them I was upset over something, with a slew of parting head pats and reassuring words, so the place was silent.
Another one of the perks is that it's almost always got a good chance of being Baz free, meaning I could hack at the trees and shrubs as much as I wanted without him appearing in some dark corner and taking the mick.

I looked at the Sword of Mages in my hand, handle slick with the sweat from my palms, and dropped it on the earthy floor, sinking down into the dirt after it. The sun had almost completely sunk underneath the horizon without me noticing, leaving me in the faint glow of the moon. I probably looked a right sight, there in the woods. Typically, a guy leaning against a tree in the moonlight would be considered attractive, but I knew that I, caked in dirt and moss, just came across as a bloke who'd tried to fight a tree. And lost badly.

I was avoiding going back to the room. I shouldn't have been; not like Baz and I had ended up having a massive fight, after all. But the rejection, however small and seemingly insignificant, stung. Because it showed that, in Baz's mind, there were two clear sides. Him and me. Opposing ends of the spectrum.

Why did it have to be that way?

It really was getting late to be out in the woods. The drawbridge might have even been lowered already. With a resigned sigh, and a hardened heart, I walked back to our room, where I didn't even look towards Baz's bed. I just headed straight for the shower, where I spent what must have been an hour or so scrubbing off dirt and grime, and pulling twigs out of my hair. That's another good thing about spending time in the woods. The feeling of it all coming off you afterwards.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, however, I couldn't resist sneaking a look at Baz's bed. The room was dark, with all lights off, and he was a barely distinguishable lump underneath his covers.

I opened the window, just to spite him, before climbing into bed and facing the wall, giving myself over to sleep immediately.

hr

I woke up slowly, passing through various layers of sleep saturated delusions before I was finally fully aware.

It didn't take me long to realise why.

Baz was having a nightmare. The sound of muffled sobs, and chattering teeth emanated from the other side of the room.

I stayed frozen in my bed, half wrapped in my covers, unsure of what to do. My first instinct was, obviously, to run over to Baz's bed, like I first did a month ago. But now…

I wasn't sure what to do. As a sort of peace offering, I get up, and close the window, with a furtive glance at Baz, before getting back into bed. He doesn't stop crying, even in the minutes I'm staring up at the ceiling underneath my sheets

. The best thing would be to

"Help me!" Baz choked out in his sleep, and the covers tangled around my legs in my haste to get off my bed, and to his side. I had to waste valuable seconds kicking them away before I could finally get over there.

"It's okay," I told him, softly, hesitantly touching his cheek "You're safe. You're okay. I'm here."

He quietened, and I began to step away from his bed, raking my fingers through my short curls, when I felt a hand shoot out and grab my sleeve.

"Simon" Baz murmured, and for a second, I was afraid that he'd woken up. But his eyes were still closed, and he didn't show any other signs of being conscious "N'go. Stay."

It was time to take a gamble.

I lifted the covers of his bed slowly (he had them neatly tucked in, the posh bastard), and manoeuvre myself in an attempt to climb in bed next to him, finally wrapping my arms around his waist.

Not a very smart move, looking back, since the movement chased away any semblance of sleep he was in. His eyes fluttered open, and we held silent, very awkward eye contact for what seemed like eons.

"Evening, Baz." I said stupidly, because I wasn't sure what else to do in that situation.

"Please explain to me what the fuck you're doing in my bed at this godforsaken time?"

He was swearing like a Normal. Baz would never be caught dead doing that, which means that this time, I really pissed him off.

"Right. That. Well." I shifted slightly, clearing my throat, and bracing for a possible hit "You were having a nightmare, and you sounded really upset, so I thought that I−"

"Would get into my bed?"

"Well, no. In all the other times I've watched you; you've barely ever had a nightmare. So I thought I'd try to, you know, calm you down a bit. Then you asked me to stay."
I shrugged. It seemed like the right situation for a shrug.

"What do you mean all the other times you've watched me?"

Merlin and Morgana, fuck.

"I…shit, I, um, about a month ago, ish, I woke up in the middle of the night. And I saw you…watching me." Baz jerked in my arms, as if he was trying to run from the situation. I held him tight, embarrassed myself, but knowing that it would only be more awkward if we didn't talk it out now "I never really figured out, you know, why you were doing it, but after a while, I got used to it. Liked it. So I started watching out for you, when you're asleep. Because. Nightmares. Yeah." I petered off towards the end of the speech, feeling about as uncomfortable as I'd ever been.

There's a pause, where nobody speaks at all, until Baz's dry voice cuts through the still air "So your solution to having your self-proclaimed vampire enemy watch you at night was to watch him back?"

It sounded stupid if you put it that way.

"…Yeah." I shrugged.

Then Baz does the least Baz thing I've ever seen him do.

The bastard starts laughing. He clutched the pillow beside me, his body shaking as he giggled, hand covering his mouth.
But then he suddenly sobered, looking me in the face for the first time. There was a trace of sadness in his eyes, as if he was gearing himself up for something huge, that he knew would fail.

"Simon, the reason I watched you… the reason I always watch you…it's because I'm in love with you. Have been for a long time."

"Oh." Words always manage to desert me at the very moment I need them the most. But all I knew then was that Baz was beginning to pull away, and I couldn't have him away from me any longer.

That's why I crushed our lips together.

People always describe kisses as being explosive. Fireworks. Now I understood why Baz had said this would all end in flames. The world was burning around me, but I'd never felt more alive.

When Baz finally pulled away, I'm pleased to see that his self-assured smirk is nowhere to be found. I cut in before he can speak, settling us both down against the pillows "I've been watching you sleep for a month, you absolute wanker. At this point, I think I've sacrificed enough sleep for you to accept that I love you too."

As the night drew on, the kisses became sweeter and slower, and the flame fell to an ember.

"What about the war?" Baz had asked with a rough voice in the middle of the night, as I leaned into his chest.

"The war can go fuck itself."

"I don't think that's a legitimate answer, Snow."

"You called me Simon before."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Simon?"

"Baz?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."