Letters of Ty Blackthorn

Note of Complexity

Ty Blackthorn

'Love comes in many forms, but a hoodie is a strange one.'

I awoke in the early hours of the morning. Weakened and exhausted, coating in sweat and panting. Blankets once again kicked onto the floor at some point throughout night hours, a mark of my trashing around in my sleep.

Morning came upon me, sadly morning do this in a fixed 24-hour cycle, now without Kit there to calm me back down. Not he stayed around Blackthorn for a particularly long amount of time to do so, but it was in his way of doing such a thing, an understanding about what I did, without the lack therefore in other Shadowhunters, a part of mundane knowledge that we didn't want to pick up and stand beside. Attachment is a very quick process, and I wasn't likely to ignore him when our first meeting appeared at knifepoint, then coming to live in Los Angles Institute.

With my letter completed yesterday, It felt good that I had something crossed off the list early. Today though I had set aside time later to come up with the best way to send it. (Without the luxury of Magnus Bane delivery service). I could have it sent via type fire message, typical Shadowhunter way of communication, but it could be at risk of others compromise. And I happened to have no tech up here. Livvy might have done so a few days ago, but I didn't want to have another risk of attack. Even with the protection of the Herondale heirloom.

Still unbelievable Kit would gift it to me. Family heirlooms were rare, unique and stayed in the family. Kit might not hold such high connections to his name or family, but part of me wondered if Kit had wished to sell it to the highest bidder. Then again Kit, according to Livvy, drinks quite a bit of alcohol these days.

Ah, but Kit had my letter now, with no chance of coming back. so I wouldn't have to worry over it now. I froze suddenly, as I realized what fact had just registered into my thought process. A feeling of playing catch-up anxiety making me bolt into sitting upright.

How? When? What, Impossible ... my letter, I hadn't given it to anyone, it should still have been here. Kit couldn't have it. But somehow I knew he did. Somehow, presented itself as proof in form of my small sliver of remaining on-the-bed-blanket, which I happened to be curled up in. Shifting quickly, I held my clothed arms out in front of me.

Small size for me. red, grey and black. Soft inner lining. Reaching up to my head, I felt a hood. Tearin it off myself, I found labelled on. Kit Rook... Kit Rook's hoodie is in my room more specifically with me wearing it after blank memories, in this inhospitable Shadowhunter training ground. A whole country away from being reasonable. Ah, I needed a secondary perspective. "By the Angel. Livvy, There is a Kit owned hoodie in here. Help."

Previous day:

Frist letter finished. Mission complete. I let go of a deep breath that people say they sometimes don't realise they're holding. Julian had taught me it was a sign of relaxing tension after an extremely emotionally difficult task, which my family had long since confirmed. Somewhere in these past few months, Kit had become a very difficult task for my brain to process. Which meant I spent hours and days working through everything I knew about him. Keeping hold of what made Kit, Kit at least from my view I suppose, one could argue. And how Kit affected me.

Love. One of those things for humanity that you just, after a certain age are supposed to know. Even if it is a difficult thing to explain to anyone. Love comes in many varying forms and each with a complex set of almost unspoken rules. Running through all of these, I tried in desperation to work out which category Kit fell under for me, and working on from there. There had been moments where I could find out how much I loved each by how much I let them touch my body, well, I guess would have been a good enough indicator for a long time. Now it felt unfair since Kit had spent so much less time with us.