Simon and Baz spend one more night together at Watford. Thanks for reading!

Chapter One: Hunger

Simon

Baz and I sneak away from the dance floor hand in hand. Some couples are still spinning, twirling and laughing in celebration of their post-Watford lives. Some are either subtly casting glances in our direction or blatantly staring. Either way, with Baz's hand in mind, I resolve myself to push forward through the crowd.

"Come on", Baz says, smirking as he tilts his head towards the kitchen. "I know you're not going to be satisfied until we get you some of those sandwiches."

I grin sheepishly because I am starving. Seriously, Watford has excellent food, why are they skimping on the food for the Leavers Ball? Hors d'ouevres and punch? Not cutting it. When I arrived I was too anxious to eat very much, but since Baz and I finished our emotional heart to heart on the dance floor, I just realized how hungry I am.

When we reach the kitchen we push through the heavy oak doors to see if Cook Pritchard could do us the favor of a heartier meal. Since the dancing is in full swing outside and no one is paying much attention to the food anyway, the kitchen staff is winding down for the evening. Baz spots Cook Pritchard near the enormous pantry and slips away to see if she could sneak us a tray of our favorite sandwiches. A waiter zips by me with a half empty tray of vegetable skewers and I swipe one. Ok, maybe three…

Baz reappears while my mouth is still full and smiles, "Afraid you're going to starve, Snow?"

"I might!" I reply in mock defense. "Don't mess with my insatiable appetite."

Chocolate éclairs pass by. I think, Yes, desserts can definitely come before sandwiches and I reach for a few éclairs.

I hand Baz an éclair and he says, "Cook Pritchard said she would be happy to put together a tray for us and she'll send them up to our room in a few minutes." He glances a little nervously towards the exit that leads to Mummers House. "I know you haven't been there in a while but it's private and I do need to finish packing my belongings. What do you think?"

Baz looks at the floor while he waits for my response.

Our room. The last time I set foot in our dormitory was months ago. After the night in the Chapel, I may have gone in there to get cleaned up after we were covered in dirt and blood. Honestly, I don't remember much. The immediate hours following the Mage's death were an absolute blur. I just know that in the days to follow, I drifted in and out of sleep at Penelope's house in their small spare bedroom. Baz had come to visit to make sure I was alright (much to the dismay of Penelope's mom) and Penelope fussed over me, but it took weeks for me to begin a somewhat normal routine again.

Although hesitant to set foot in another spot so full of my Watford memories, I do want to get away from this crowd to be alone with Baz. I wipe some chocolate from the éclairs on the sleeve of my suit and take Baz's hand so he would look up at me, "Let's go."

Baz lets out a breath and smiles as if he was afraid I would say no. As if the room carried too many memories and I wasn't emotionally ready to tackle them. Maybe he's partially right, but I need to face my emotions instead of simply hoping things will work themselves out. I was never very good at bottling up emotions anyway.

We walk out of the exit and take the well-worn, familiar path to the room we shared for years.