Overwhelmed [3] 《SHADOWHUNTERS》

Chapter Twenty-Four

Andy's breath fogged up the mirror as her fingertips chased a glob of gunk across the oily skin underneath her right eye, crusty from the hours she had been asleep. Three of her days had been lost in a swarm and she had finally trusted herself – with Alec's reluctant approval – to walk far enough to the elevator and return to her bedroom. She'd always enjoyed the cold that crept through the brick walls, but it met her now like a needed touch; she had spent so much time in Magnus' loft lately, it had been lovely, but there was an ease of breath that came along with the space which belonged to her. She had snoozed the morning hours away in her own malformed sheets after Isabelle had forced(or as Izzy would insist, helped) her to shower, an act that exhausted Andy again to frustrating levels despite hardly lifting her own muscles. Though, she did appreciate being clean.

She scratched the rest of the sand from her eyes and was attacked by a yawn. It dawned on the woman that while Izzy may have helped her with her top earlier, she would have to struggle on her own to cover the chill of her bare arm. She wandered over to her dresser, an impressive piece of woodworking that lived within the Institute and was never set correctly in place by its owner. One might think that some of the drawers' tracks had been broken by their awkward angles, but Alec had tried to repair them before and found every metal rung to be intact.

Andy's fingers skimmed the different fabrics that hung from various gaps within the wood until she caught the smooth string of a knitted cardigan. She tugged it out, a bit of a feat with only one hand able to grip, and then slipped it on halfway. She tried to swing it over to her other shoulder, but her good arm protested from the harm that it had endured and she gave up, letting it dangle down her back with the weight of an herb grinder in the pocket. It gave her the thought of using a more natural, much-less-sickening form of pain relief than the container of large capsules that the medics had provided her.

She was pressed to delay the inevitable trip out to her scuffed up balcony as she glanced to the wall behind her headboard. She wondered about the space beyond it with a twinge in her chest. Alec had told her about how difficult of a time her brother had had each night since his return. She did not take it lightly when the man had compared Jace's cries to the first weeks that she and her brother had ever spent in the Lightwoods' care. 

Andy had drifted into the hallway without much forethought when she found the door that sat right beside hers. The last time she had touched the brass knob had been rough, a stark contrast from the careful creak she performed at present. The room within was dark, curtains drawn over every window that sat against the odd concave of the ancient walls. If it wasn't for the bounce of a creeping slice of sunlight off of the golden material, she might not have noticed the shape of her brother upon the bed. He sat on the far edge of it, amidst a crumpled comforter that revealed the pale fitted sheet. Every other blanket had been kicked down into the fold between the wooden frame and the mattress. Andy didn't doubt that it was from an unconscious thrashing.

Still as a statue, Jace stared at the wall. He didn't move an inch when the plastic of Andy's cast thudded into the doorframe. The woman held her breath, relieved when her fragile wrist didn't find pain in the mild jarring. She took a bit more caution with herself as she stepped into his room, socks slick against the hardwood floor. 

She decided against the wish to call his name, because she didn't have any good words prepared for what might come after. The dust that had accumulated within his absence danced through the lone sunbeam as Andy invaded his space. She was uncharacteristically quiet, not an ounce of judgement upon her face while she sunk into the bed beside him. It didn't seem to be a very interesting portion of the wall that he had chosen to watch.

His eyes flicked to her and he found her staring ahead just as he had been. She looked so much better, the peachy undercurrent returned to her skin tone and her cleansed hair braided back by Isabelle. He noticed the fabric that hung off her shoulder and took hold of it without a word spared between them. His touch was lighter than a feather as he worried over the ugly bruise that seeped from her forearm and he draped the covering over her shoulder. Then, he returned his focus to the green wall.