"He was legitimately going to faint. Black spots... were appearing... in his vision..."
“Simon,” he heard Baz snap. “Stop holding your fucking breath, you’re acting like a child.”
With his eyes, Simon tried to convey that he wasn’t going to get oxygen into his lungs until Baz lifted the scone ban and he got pastries in his stomach.
Finally, Baz relented and watched Simon gasp for breath on the floor of the kitchen.
“Snow, I swear to Crowley, if you die of a heart attack from your shitty eating habits, I’m resurrecting you, slapping you, and then forcing you to only eat kale.”
Send me the first line of a fic and I’ll write the next five!