Bloodloss: An Alec and Magnus (Malec) Fanfiction

Chapter 7

I press firmly on the doorbell by Simon and Jordan’s door. When nothing happens, I try again, this time knocking on the wood instead. There’s a shuffling sound from inside, some murmurs, and then the door opens.

“Hey, Alec.” Simon smiles.

“Hi.” I say awkwardly. “This is a huge ask and it’s totally fine if…”

He cuts me off.

“Jace called. It’s fine, come in.”

He takes my bag from me and I follow him into the room. His eyes scan me from head to toe, taking in my blood-splattered clothes, runeless skin and weary expression.

“Tough day?” he asks, when his eyes land on my face.

“A little, yeah.” I admit, not wanting to really talk about it, but feeling like I need to give an answer.

He nods sympathetically.

“Well, you’re welcome to stay here, though you might have to take the couch.” He says, gesturing to the worn sofa with what looks distinctly like one of the springs poking out the side of one of the cushions.

“Thanks.” I say, and sink to the sofa.

“No problem.” Simon tells me and puts my bag down on the floor by my feet. “Now, come on, let’s play some video games.”

I, it turns out, am not very good at video games. At the Institute, we’ve never had things like this. I can manage the tactical parts, but the buttons are confusing. The aims are straightforward; kill the bad guys. I wish the real world was as simple, that it was so easy to differentiate between good and bad. But people are more complex than that. There’s no one who’s entirely bad, just like there’s no one who’s entirely good.

“Go, go, go!” Simon urges his character onscreen.

He’s certainly good at this, and I’m not sure whether it’s sad or impressive how expertly he jabs at the buttons on his controller.

The front door clicks shut as – for the seventh time – the enemy kills my character and Simon slams frantically at buttons in a futile attempt to avenge my fictitious death. The screen goes blank before the mocking ‘YOU LOSE’ message appears in white. Jordan appears in the doorway and nods to me in greeting whilst Simon wonders aloud how I can be a shadowhunter and still have no idea how to play a video game. I hold back from correcting him on the part about me being a shadowhunter, though I have to agree with him that I’m pretty awful at video games.

“Hey, Alec. Hey, Simon.” Jordan says, shrugging off his coat. He goes to the kitchen, gets a slice of pizza from a box on the counter, and two bottles of blood. He slides the blood down on the coffee table before Simon and I, and throws himself into the chair by the TV. “So, you’re staying over here then?”