My Beautiful One

18. Seven years dormant

I wasn't exactly glad to be back in the apartment, but I wasn't too unhappy either. Of course, that perpetual sense of unease was there, but it's amazing what simple things like good food and well-fitting clothes can do for a person's mood.

"So I'm guessing you have somewhere to be?" I asked, putting down my various shopping bags at the foot of the stairs as I watched Sebastian buckle his gear and weapons belt on top of his casual clothes.

"Yes." He replied, sliding a seraph blade through one of the belts many loops.

"Am I ever going to find out what it is that you leave the house to do every day?" My question was casual, hiding the curiosity I had for what exactly my captor spent his days doing.

He looked sidelong at me, smirking. "No."

"Whatever." I said dismissively. Despite the fact that my relationship with this strange Shadowhunter had changed since I had first come to the apartment, I still kept my emotions tightly controlled. It wasn't like he was a friend or anything.

"But just... come home." I heard myself say, and froze the moment I realized my words.

Home. I had referred to the place I was held hostage as home. And what's more, I had communicated the message that I wasn't, in fact, completely indifferent as to whether Sebastian lived or died.

And I could see that he had noticed it too. Sebastian stopped getting ready to leave, and simply stared at me. It was like the way he'd observed me when he first saw me: a kind of curiosity about something I couldn't understand, let alone explain. There was something consuming about that look, and it took serious willpower to tear my gaze away and go back to idly sorting my shopping.

"I'll be back." He said quietly, and slid his katana swords into the scabbards across his back before taking a running jump towards the east wall and disappearing through it.

I sighed, noticing how lonely the sound seemed in the silence of the apartment. Of course Sebastian would be back. If I couldn't get out anyway,  I couldn't seem to decide whether or not living for eternity with Sebastian would be better than without him.

I've always known I'd have problems. I thought as I began walking towards my room. But I've always guessed that they'd involve fighting in wars or finally having to choose which side I'm on, faeire or Shadowhunter. But I never pondered over having to live out my immortal days with a psychotic captor who I may or may not be developing feelings for. Maybe this sounds a little-self glorifying, but I've always thought that I would be destined to do more than that.

Having finally reached my room, I placed all my shopping bags on the bed and started carefully unpacking their contents while contemplating my situation. But it didn't take me too long, because I knew I'd already vowed to myself that I would get out or die trying. And this wasn't some blind decision made in the heat of anger like before: I'd thought long and hard, and I knew exactly what I needed to do.

I would get out at any cost. Even if that cost involved the death of me or Sebastian. This wouldn't be some anger-fuelled fist fight like the last time: it would be carefully planned, and not just using the weapons of war, but a weapon Sebastian had put into my hands the moment he declared that he wanted me to be 'his'.

And I would try as soon as he got back.

I sat down in front of the vanity mirror at my dressing table and stared at my reflection. I remembered doing the same thing at my first night at the Institute, and though that had only been a matter of weeks before, I felt like I had changed so much since then. And yet my reflection remained the same: the same pale, narrow face stared back at me with its unsmiling mouth and big blue-green eyes. But it was what went on behind those eyes that had changed, after all.