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Carry On - Rainbow Rowell

A/N: This book is called Carry On by Rainbow Rowell. I loved reading this book and I recommend reading it yourselves. This scene was originally told in Simon Snow’s point of view. I will be rewriting it in Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch (Baz)’s point of view. This was a very short scene in the book, so I’m sorry if this too short for you guys.

Updated A/N: Hellooo I have updated/edited this chapter because I felt it needed to be longer. Instead of doing just the original short scene that I chose, I decided to do a couple more scenes added onto the short one making it long. With that, this chapter will now have two viewpoints (Simon’s and Baz’s) instead of how it was when I originally wrote it with just Baz’s point of view. As always, I hope y’all enjoy this!

*DISCLAIMER* This is an LGBT+ and fluff scene. If you don’t prefer to read it, please skip this chapter. I do not want to force you guys to read something you don’t enjoy.


We’re sitting on the ground, facing each other. Still kissing. I took him by the shoulders a little while ago, on either side of his collar, and I can’t let go. I don’t want to let go.

I’m not sure what I’m doing, after all, I’ve never done this before. Especially with a boy, not just any boy either, Simon Snow. The Chosen One. The Mage’s Heir. I, Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, am snogging the Chosen One, my one true love since fifth year.

My heart races, my thoughts going wild. For years all I could think about was Snow. His stupid golden blonde locks and the way they hang over his forehead. Those strikingly blue eyes. Every inch of his face memorized from years of being his roommate, watching him while he slept. The face I thought of during those dreadful nights in the coffin when the numpties caught me. For Crowley’s sake, Simon Snow. You mesmerize me.

Snow runs his hands through my hair and clenches his fist in it. Instinctively, I jam my face forward into his and quickly snatch it away.

“Sorry,” Simon says. (He’s out of breath, I can tell. Truthfully, so am I.)(But I’d never admit that out loud.)

I let go of his jumper - my jumper - and shake my head, my hand pressed to my forehead. “No. It’s...Where’s your cross?”

I watch as he feels for it on the ground around us, holding it up between us once he finds it.

“Put it back on,” I say.

“Why? Are you gonna bite me?”

“No. Have I ever bitten you?”

“No. You’ve never kissed me before either.”

"You kissed me, Snow.”

He shrugs. “So? Are you going to bite me?”

I start to get to my feet. “No...i’d just rather think less about it. I need to drink. It’s been -” I look around, it’s pitch dark. “-too long.” I glance back at Snow, quickly looking away. “Look, I have to...hunt. Will you wait?”

“I’ll go with you,” he says.

“Crowley,” I say, “you will not.”

He jumps up. “Can it be anything?”


“Anything with blood, yeah?”

“What?” I say again, “Yeah,”

He takes my hand. “Call something. There must be hunting spells.”

“There are,” I say, my eyebrows lowering. “But they only work at close range.”

He squeezes my hand. (His stupid godly magic. Bloody hell, just had to fall in love with the CHOSEN ONE, really Basilton?)

I take out my wand, watching Snow. That idiot. Wasting his magic on me. All so I can have a stupid drink.

"Doe!“I say, pointing my wand into the trees. I feel Snow’s magic coursing through my body. Feel my magic getting stronger, a mix of his and my own. ”A deer!" His magic shimmers in the air around us.

A minute later, a doe steps through the charred branches.

I shiver. “You have to stop doing that.”


“God-like displays of magic.”

“Why?” he says, “It’s cool.”

“It’s terrifying.”

He grins at me. “It’s cool.”

“Don’t watch,” I say. I don’t need him seeing me devour this animal. It’s weird. And it might scare him. I walk towards the deer.

I can feel him still watching. I look back at him. “Don’t watch,” I say again.


I watch as Baz leads the doe into the trees until it’s too dark for me to see them anymore.

Minutes later, still in the circle of ash, I hear leaves crunching.

Baz’s voice calls out, “It’s me, Snow.”

“You called me Simon before.”

I finally see him, relaxing when he lights a flame in his hand. (Fucking pyro.)(Okay, not in his hand - floating above it. He’s flammable, that would be bad.)

“No, I didn’t,” he says.

“You did.” (Right before I kissed you.)

“Let’s go back to the car,” he says. “The neighbors are already going to think we had some kind of dark ritual here.”

“I’m not sure we didn’t,” I say, following him.

When we get to the car, I’m not sure what to say. So, I do the logical thing and say whatever pops into my thick head first.

“You’re a vampire,” I say finally.

He doesn’t answer.

“You really are,” I say.

He starts the engine.

“I mean, I knew it - I’ve known for years. But you really are...” I press a hand to his cheek. “You’re warmer now.” Not cold, like before.

“It’s the blood,” He says.

“Would you be heavier? If I lifted you?”

“I imagine. I just emptied a deer.” He glances over at me. (He’s driving, it would be bad if he turned his entire head. I’d rather not die in a car wreck. Thank you, Baz.) “Don’t try.”

“How does it work?”

“I don’t know...Magic, blood magic. Virus, magickal virus. I don’t know.”

“How often do you have to drink?”

“Every night, to feel good. Every few nights, to stay sane.”

“Have you ever bitten anyone?”

“No. I’m not a murderer.”

“Does it have to be fatal every time? The biting? Couldn’t you just drink some of a person’s blood, then walk away?”

“I can’t believe you’re asking me this, Snow. You, who can’t walk away from half a sandwich.”

“So you don’t know?”

“I’ve never tried. I’m not...that. My father would kill me if I touched a person.”

A wave of worry crosses Baz’s face. “Hey,” I say, “don’t.”


“Think. Whatever you’re thinking. Stop.”

He exhales, clearly frustrated. “Why doesn’t this all bother you?”


“I’m a vampire.”

“Well, it used to bother me,” I say. “Back when I thought you were going to drain me dry some night - or turn me into a zombie. But the last few days have been properly educational, haven’t they?”

“So now that you know I’m a vampire, for certain, you don’t care?”

“Now that I know you just sneak around, drinking household pets and legal game, yeah, I’m not too bothered. It’s not like I’m a militant vegetarian.”

“And you still don’t believe that I’m dead?”

I shake my head once, firmly. “I do not believe you are dead.”

We’re at his driveway now. Baz turns the car in. “Sunlight burns me,” he says.

I shrug. “Me too.”

“You’re an idiot, Snow.”

“You called me Simon before.”

No, I didn’t,”


I shouldn’t let myself be happy about this. It’s not like we’re going to keep doing this. Snogging. We’re enemies. we’re supposed to kill each other. It’s what everyone expects us to do. It’s what Father and the Coven want me to do.

One day Snow and I will have to fight. One of us will die at the hands of the other, that is what will happen. There’s no way around it.

I don’t know what I’m thinking.

I park the car in the garage, then go into the house through the kitchen door. Quietly. Can’t risk waking up Father. “Are you hungry?” I ask.


I poke around in the refrigerator hoping to find something to eat. I find a casserole dish with shepherd’s pie in it. I shove the dish into Snow’s arms, then grab forks. “Milk?” I ask, “Coke?”

“Milk,” he says. He’s grinning. He hasn’t stopped grinning.

I put the milk carton on top of the casserole, grab cloth napkins from the drawer, and head up to my room. I hear Show’s footsteps, struggling to keep up.

I don’t know what I’m thinking.


I wish I knew what he was thinking...


When we get up to my room, I turn on a lamp. It doesn’t give off much light - the shade is a dark red. I sit on the floor at the end of my bed.

Snow takes a seat right next to me. I take the dish from and cast a quick ”You’re getting warmer!" - then open the lid.

“Do you need to eat?” Snow asks. “Or do you just like it?”

“I need it,” I say, scooping a bite of food into my mouth, avoiding his eyes. “just not as much as other people do.”

“How do you know that you’re not immortal?”

I hand him a fork. “No more questions.”

We finish the shepherd’s pie, eating out of the bowl on my lap. I chew with my hand covering my mouth. (My fangs pop when I eat.) Snow finishes the milk. I didn’t want any.

When we’re done, I set the dishes outside my door, then start a fire in the fireplace with my wand.

Snow crawls over to sit next to me, “You’re a pyro,” he says.

I shrug, staring into the fire.

“You’re not thinking of burning down the house, are you?”

“No, Snow. I don’t have a death wish. I wish I did - it would make everything easier.”

“Please stop talking like that.”

I’m not sure what to say, and then I know. I turn to him, abruptly. “Is that why you kissed me? To keep me from killing myself?”

He shakes his head. “Not exactly. I mean, I did want to keep you from killing yourself.”

“Why then?” I ask.

“Why did I kiss you?”


“I guess I wanted to,” he shrugs.

“Since when?”

He shrugs again, it pisses me off. I wedge another log into the fire.

“Did you want me to?” he asks.

(Yes.)“No,” I say. “Why would I want that? Why would that thought even occur to me? ′Hey, you know what would fix this miserable situation with the vampires and my mother and the war and the decline of magic? Snogging my half-wit roommate. The one who will probably fuck my life for good someday. That’s a plan.’”

“You don’t have to be such a prat,” he says. “We’re on the same side here.”

“For the moment,” I say. “You’ll help me find out who killed my mother, I’ll kill whoever it is, and then you’ll make sure I get thrown in a tower for it. You’ve already won - as soon as you tell the Mage I’m a vampire, he’ll pull out my fangs and snap my wand. I end up in the Covent Garden, licking Nicodemus’ heels. And that’s if I’m lucky.”

“Those vampires were in awe of you,” he says. “They wanted to put a crown on your head.”

“Are you suggesting I cross over?” I’ll be stricken from the Book, just like Nicodemus.

“No, I’m just saying, you were amazing today.”

“You’re not listening to me at all, are you?”

“I am,” he says. “But you’re wrong. Nothing’s going back to normal after this. How could it?”

“Because we’re friends now?”

“Because we’re more than that.”

I pick up a poker and jab at the fire. “One kiss and you think the world is upside down.”

“Two kisses,” he says. And he takes me by the back of my neck.


I don’t know what time it is.

The room is losing its darkness; like the sun is fighting its way into the room. We’re lying on our backs next to the fire - what’s left of it anyway, we were too distracted to tend to it - holding hands.

I sigh and squeeze Baz’s hand. He yelps in pain, I frown and hold it up between us. A cross-shaped burn has appeared since last night when he yanked my necklace off. (My cross is on the other side of the room now; I took care of it myself this time.)

I bring his palm to my mouth and kiss it.

“I didn’t think you were gay,” he says, quietly.

I shrug, I’m not sure what to say.

“What does that mean?” he whispers.

“I don’t know,” I say, closing my eyes. “I guess I’ve never thought much about what I am. I got a lot on my plate.”

Baz laughs a snorty kind of laugh, like a child. I start laughing with him. “A lot on your plate?” he repeats.

“Are you gay?” I ask, looking over at him, still laughing.

“Yeah,” he says. “Completely.”

“So you do this all the time?”

He rolls his eyes. “No.”

“Then how do you know you’re gay?”

“I just do. How do you not know?”

“Dunno,” I say. I lace my fingers in his and hold his hand, lazily. “I try not to think.”

“About being gay?”

“About anything. I make lists of things not to think about.”


“Because,” I say, “it hurts to think about things that you can’t have or help. S’better not to think about it.”

Baz rubs his thumb back and forth on the back of my hand. “Am I on your list?” he asks.

I laugh again and shake my head, “Fat chance.” I say, sleepily. “Trying not to think about you...S’like trying not to think about an elephant that’s standing on my chest.”

“I can’t decide whether that’s a compliment...” he says, I can sense the smile on his face.

“Me neither,” I say.

“So you don’t think,” he says.


I feel him prop himself up next to me, “I don’t understand you.” he says, looking down at me, “You’re the most powerful magician alive - who’s ever lived, probably. You can have anything you want. How is it pointless for you to think about that?”

I push myself up onto both my elbows and let my head fall in Baz’s direction. “Because it doesn’t matter. In the end, I just do what’s expected of me. When the Humdrum comes after me, I fight him. When he sends dragons, I kill them. When you trick me into meeting a chimera, I go off. I don’t get to choose or plan. I just take it as it comes. And someday, something will catch me unaware are be too big, but I’ll fight it anyway. I’ll fight until I can’t anymore - what is there to think about?”

I drop back onto the floor. Baz reaches out and very gently pushes the curls off my forehead. I close my eyes again.

“I always thought you were going to kill me,” he says.

“Me too,” I say. “I tried not to think about it.”

I feel him twist his fingers in my hair. It feels like pure bliss, Agatha never did this. Is this what real love feels like?

Suddenly I feel Baz’s breath near my face, then he ever so slowly kisses my cheek.

“For a long time,” he says.

“Hmmm?” I open one eye.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time. Almost since we met...”

I close my eyes again and try to suppress a smile.

“I thought it was going to kill me,” he says.

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