Burning Sky // Alec Lightwood ➰

I can't do this.

It's one of the mornings that even getting out of bed seems painful to me. I want to get up, I want to go to the kitchen and find the others, but at the same time the thought of it makes my whole body ache.

I don't understand why I start crying. It doesn't make sense. I have my mother back. We talked, figured somethings out. I'm supposed to be better. Be happy about how things turned out. I don't know why I can't let myself enjoy this.

I can hear laughter from outside the door, deep, carefree laughter. Somehow this makes me feel even worse. I recognize Adam's voice, he sounds amused, his tone lighter than before.

I push my self out of bed, my head is almost ready to explode by the effort.

But I can't do this to him. Not again. Not today, after all of this time of misery and anxiety and pain. He is finally happy.

I don't know how I find myself standing in my front door five minutes later. I don't know how I brushed my teeth or when I got dressed. It feels like my mind is shutting off. I am looking at the door, urging myself to open it, not sure if I'm ready to do it. Not sure if I will even make it to the stairs before breaking down.

I turn to look at the first drawer next to my bed, I'm even tempted to reach for what's inside of it, but I stop myself, I have to get through this.

Decisively I take a few steps and open the door, holding tightly onto it. Instantly my head is filled with all the noise coming from the institute, the computer screens beeping, the people running up and down, the voices, the shouts, the laughter. I can feel my ears buzzing and my insides churn, while the need to return to my bed resurfaces.

"Sky. Sky!" I take a step back, startled from the voice.

My eyes snap to Alec who seems worried. Great. Like I needed another reason to feel like crap today.

"I've been calling you for minutes." I look at him confused. I could swear he just showed up.

"Yes. Right, sorry I zoned out." He seems unconvinced but doesn't press it.

Suddenly sweating, I reach for my hair and put it into a high ponytail. Why am I so anxious?

"So..." He seems unsure, not knowing if he should continue or not.

I don't know if I want him to.

"How did it go with your mom?" I gulp down as he asks the question I was dreading to hear.

I'm supposed to tell him that it was great. That we talked and we solved our problems. Isn't that what last night was supposed to be about? So why do I feel like dying?

"Fine I guess." It comes out more like a question, my voice so high, like I'm lying.  "I mean there were a lot of tears and a lot of yelling but for sure better than I epected it to go."

It's true though, I guess it could have gone worse.

"I don't wanna know how you expected it to go." He laughs but there is a hint of concern behind his words.

Please, like he doesn't already know I'm the definition of pessimism.

"Nope, you don't." I try to joke too, but it comes out more serious than I expected it to be.