Just when you think you’re having a scene without Simon, he drops in to remind you that everyone else is a supporting character in his catastrophe.
It’s the good things that hurt when you’re missing them.
He knew why he wanted to kiss her. Because she was beautiful. And before that, because she was kind. And before that, because she was smart and funny. Because she was exactly the right kind of smart and funny. Because he could imagine taking a long trip with her without ever getting bored. Because whenever he saw something new and interesting, or new and ridiculous, he always wondered what she’d have to say about it – how many stars she’d give it and why.
I was eleven years old, and I’d lost my mother, and my soul, and the Crucible gave me you.
The front seat is for people who’ve never been kidnapped by bloody numpties. Jesus Christ, Baz.
He smiles, and he’s made of trouble.
Carry on, Simon.
It’s like being a fairy named Mary,” he goes on. “Or a vampire named Gampire,” I say. “Gampire isn’t even a proper name, Snow. You’re terrible at this game.
He’s a book full of footnotes brought to life. He’s a jacket made of elbow patches.
I lean into him, because I’m cold and he’s always warm. And because I like to remind him that I’m not afraid of him.
You were the centre of my universe and everything else spun around you.
I wind my fingers in his hair. It’s thicker than mine, and curlier, and it shines golden in the firelight. There’s a mole on his cheek that I’ve wanted to kiss since I was 12. I do.
Safety, stability – it’s an illusion. It’s a false god, Simon. It’s like clinging to a sinking raft instead of learning to swim.
I can tell she still finds me both loathsome and distasteful, but Rome wasn’t built on mutual admiration.
Enough, Snow, I’m not the Queen.
He lets his hand fall, and I catch it. Because I’m weak. Because I’m a constant disappointment to myself.
And sometimes holes want to get bigger, but Baz was wrong – sometimes they just want to be filled.
He’s not a monster. He’s just a villain. He’s not a villain. He’s just a boy. I’m kissing a boy. I’m kissing Baz.
My road to hell isn’t paved with good intentions – or bad – it’s just my road.
A vampire who’s afraid of the dark, for Crowley’s sake.