𝔀𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓲 𝓵𝓲𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝔂𝓸𝓾?| 𝓪𝓵𝓮𝓬 𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝔀𝓸𝓸𝓭

Chapter Eight

(dude we're at 54 reads, i am so grateful!! you can vote if you wanna :) sotc is videos games, by lana del rey. yes i am obsessed w her. happy reading!!)

As the days got hotter, so did Alec Lightwood's temper.

It was early July, and New York was scorching hot, buzzing with weary pedestrians, the only droplets that fell onto the pavement were the beads of sweat that rained off of their weary faces.

Isabelle had gone away to Idris under the charade of a training course, but really, she was digging for information about the mysterious daughter of hell, and the weapon that could supposedly rain destruction on them. So far, she had found nothing.

Alec spent the blazing days holed up in his office, with only the AC to break up the humidity, pouring over books and old paperwork, looking for something, anything. Nothing. 

The heat stifled him, fogging his brain and shortening his temper until his brain was on fire and he couldn't think at all. He often slammed his fist down on the table in the frustration of always feeling like an idiot, so bruises constantly decorated his right hand, flowering black and blue. He barely even felt it.

Alec had turned into a man who was pale and thin, with dark shadows under his eyes, his hair limp and his eyes cold. He barely ate, and barely slept, just locked himself in his room or his office, doing more and more research until his eyes were blurry and his head was fuzzy with facts that meant nothing to him. It was an obsession.  

Or a distraction. 

Jace had made it clear that if Alec wasn't interested in Ness, then he intended to have her, and he did.

Every night.

Loudly and obnoxiously.

In the room next to Alec's.

Alec would put his headphones in, and try to concentrate on his books, but it was never any use. He could never focus, not anymore.

Sometimes late at night, when the whole Institute was silent, he would go and sit on the steps, with a cigarette and wrap his arms around himself, trying to hold himself together while suffocating in the heat, tears of frustration and anger and jealousy spilling down his face, as he stared at the sky, silently begging for answers that weren't even there. He was so lost, and he hated nobody for trying to find him. Even Jace didn't see it, his parabatai who should know him better than anyone didn't see it, because he was lost in her world, the devil with the angel's face, who had torn Alec apart and made him miserable, and the worst thing was that it was his own fault, because he had let her. He had allowed himself to fall, and let his emotions cloud his judgement and now he was a mess.

No, he wasn't a mess.

He was fine.

He never even liked her in the first place. 

Sometimes, despite the sweltering heat, he'd shiver violently, his teeth chattering against each other so hard that it hurt. His hands developed a permanent shake, and the only thing that could ever calm them was a cigarette. He was dangerously close to a mental breakdown, but he hid it far too well to be noticed.

Alec stared at the mirror, raking a hand through his dark hair. His arms were still lean and toned, but they were pale, the runes standing out against his almost translucent skin. His eyes were startlingly dark in contrast to his pale skin, and they were cold and unfriendly, the type that could cut through you with one unsympathetic look. His jaw was sharp and clenched with tension and his broad shoulders were set arrogantly. He leaned back, narrowing his eyes at his reflection. His reflection glared back.