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idrisnnet-archive · 3 years ago

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Marie Curie's Guide to Fake Chemistry

IDRISNNET'S SECRET SANTA EVENT: merry christmas tara @kitslightwood <3

SHIP: (greyro) Grace x (demi) Christopher

TROPES: Fake dating, lab partners, friends to lovers

Grace couldn’t relax. She was feeling like her insides were twisting in her stomach.

“Are you nervous?” Christopher whispered.

Yes. “No,” she said.

“I am,” Christopher admitted. “We put a lot of work into it. I want people to like it.”

Grace’s first instinct was to snap that most people don’t care about chemistry and he shouldn’t set his hopes high. But he probably knew it perfectly well. And she didn’t want to be mean. To him at least.

She gave him a small smile instead. “If they don’t like it, that’s on them. We did our best.”

Christopher smiled. Grace liked it.

•

For some reason Christopher had trouble deciding what to do with his hands during the presentation. He never thought about it until now. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done it before. But it was the first time he actually cared about something else besides the information he had to present.

Grace seemed very calm. Like she was doing a presentation that was half of her grade every day.

Heartbreaker, Matthew had said. Someone who couldn’t stay with one guy even if her life depended on it. Christopher had always thought his friend was too hard. It wasn’t like she cheated on them or used the guys. Actually, he hadn’t seen her with a boyfriend for quite some time but the rumors were so wild her reputation was only growing. People liked to see whatever they wanted to see, Christopher thought.

“However,” Grace picked up where Kit stopped. “The problem has a long history, dating from the ‘60s. It’s only recently that the effects have become more visible...”

Christopher allowed himself to relax. It was the last part of the presentation and it was Grace’s. He trusted her that she'd do it well.

When her voice faded and there were no more slides left, Christopher looked at Mrs. Mitchell, their teacher. She looked pleased, he decided.

She turned to the class. “Do you have any questions for Christopher and Grace?”

Someone from behind shouted, “Are you two dating?”

The class started to whisper.

“That’s not relevant to-”

“The Heartbreaker had found her new conquest!” There were a few grins, mainly from the people in the back of the room. The class was openly giggling and giving them looks after a second.

“Maneater-”

“The nerd got corrupted!”

“The virgin and the slut-”

“Enough!” The voice of Mrs. Mitchell was sharp and loud. The class went quite really quickly. Even the people that shouted at them.

Christopher felt a little sick. He wasn’t ashamed he was a virgin or that he hadn’t had a girlfriend. He was simply… uncomfortable. Why everyone thought it’s their business to talk about other people’s sex life like that?

He glanced at Grace. She looked as uneasy as Christopher felt. She quickly hid it but he didn’t miss the shaking of her hands.

“It’s extremely rude to talk about other people like that,” Mrs. Mitchell said in a cold voice. “The people who shouted the comments must stay after class. And don’t even think of running away, I saw perfectly well every one of you. The rest of you are dismissed.”

Everyone started to pack their things and Grace and Christopher quietly did the same.

The teacher approached them and smiled lightly and apologingly. “You did an excellent job today. I see how much work you put into it.”

“Thank you,” Grace said as she picked up her backpack.

“Listen, kids,” Mrs. Mitchell said. “After a few months is the competition “Marie Curie” - explicitly for high schoolers. I want to form a team and I’m inviting you. You’re one of my best students and I see you both love chemistry. It would be great if you can join us.”

“Are you inviting us as a pair?” Kit said.

“No,” she said. “Every person in the team should have their own lab partner but even if only one of you joins, it would be okay. But you work really well together. I want you both in, pair or not,” she picked up her coffee from the desk. “Think about it. I’ll wait for an answer until the end of the week, okay?”

Grace and Christopher nodded. They left the classroom with the other students.

•

“Grace?”

Grace was sitting on the edge of the pavement, smoking. She glanced at Christopher who appeared to her. The classes were over but he had hoped she would still be around.

“Can I sit?”

“Sure.”

Christopher sat next to her, looking curiously at the cigarette in her hand.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“Sometimes,” she admitted, frowning at it. “I buy a box once in a while but barely can finish it for months.”

Christopher watched the building on the other side of the street. Grace put out her cigarette.

“What do you think about Mitchell’s offer?” he asked quietly.

Grace hesitated. “I don’t know. I…” She didn’t finish. Then she said, suddenly furious. “I just don't want to stand in front of these people and to be screamed what slut I am or how I’m too pretty to be good at chemistry. Or if we win, everyone will whisper how I cheated or my partner does all the work.”

Christopher frowned. “People do this?”

“More often than you think,” she snorted.

“This sucks,” he said, a sudden anger towards these people rising in his chest.

Grace shrugged but her face was stiff.

Kit felt insecure. The idea seemed reasonable at first but now it felt silly. He was worried he would break the fragile friendship they had developed during the weeks they were working on the chemistry project. He didn’t want to lose her as a friend.

“I have an idea,” he said slowly.

Grace curiously looked at him.

“What if,” he said. “We pretend we are dating?”

Grace stared at him. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Just hear me out,” he said quickly. “There are already rumors we are dating. Not that anyone really believes them but it can help. If we agree to be in Mrs. Mitchell’s team, we will have a cover. And you can participate without worrying about all the stuff you mentioned. Until the competition is over. Then we can "break up".”

Grace blinked at him. “I can’t decide if you’re just joking or are an actual mad genius.”

Christopher couldn’t help a smile. “Neither.”

“What are you gaining from this?” she asked. “Why bother? We are sort of friends but you can’t like me that much. And correct me if I’m wrong but you never had a problem with whatever people said about you. Your friends fight anyone who does but they care more than you ever did.”

It was true. People have always said some things about him but it was never serious. The Merry Thieves got angrier than him and always defended him. Christopher never thought the opinions of other people were important. They didn’t affect his life.

He hesitated. He was worried she would ask him this. But he couldn’t come up with a good enough reason that wasn’t the truth. He was already seeing the suspicion in her gaze. The forming distrust.

Grace started to get up.

“Wait!” he said. She looked at him. He took a deep breath. “I… I kind of need to date someone.”

“Why?” she asked.

“I…” he sighed. “My friends from time to time ask me if I like somebody. If I’m dating. Or if I think about having a family and kids and stuff. Almost like that’s all there is in life.”

Grace was watching him with sympathy… and understanding.

“Recently I feel even more pressured to… I don’t know. "Admit" I like someone,” he shrugged uncomfortably. “I don’t have time for a relationship. I’m not sure I want a relationship.”

He took off his glasses and started cleaning them, avoiding Grace's gaze. “I’m trying to say… I’m demi. And I don’t know how to come out to them.”

A warm hand was placed on his shoulder. “You are demisexual?”

“And demiromantic,” he nodded. He put on his glasses again and looked at her. “You know what that is?”

“Of course,” Grace said. “I’m greyromantic.”

Christopher’s eyes widened. His chest tightened with a nice, warm feeling. “You’re on the spectrum.”

Grace nodded. “I’m non-SAM greyro. This means I don’t identify with any sexual identity.”

Christopher nodded. “SAM is short for a split attraction model, right?”

“Yeah,” Grace said. “Kit, listen,” she ran a hand through her hair. “I know how… difficult it can be to come out as aroace. How tiring. All the terminology, the energy, the fear. I went through it as I came out to my friends. But… don’t you think it’s worth a try? I mean… you would fake dating me because you’re not ready to come out?”

Christopher looked at her. “I know how it sounds. But when I tell them I want it to be on my own terms. I want to be ready. Not because I’m pressured.”

Christhopher was honest. He didn’t have the energy to do it. He didn’t want to give explanations. He just wanted to be left alone and work on what was really important to him.

Grace nodded in silent understanding. She looked at the sky for a moment and then back at Christhopher.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he blinked.

“Let’s do it,” she smiled.

Christopher beamed. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean,” she shrugged. “It would be fun. And it will probably end in a disaster.”

•

They both went to Mrs. Mitchell to tell her they will join her team. It was a bit scary, the more Grace thought about it. It was somehow so silly. Like a joke.

Yet it was real. Strange but real. Here they were, in the empty lab, with a laptop with an open google doc in front of Christopher.

“Okay,” he said. “We need to set rules.”

Grace nodded.

“First question,” she said. “Who are we allowed to tell?”

“No one?”

Grace frowned. “No one? You mean, not even our friends?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, this was stupid question,” she said. “I mean… not even some people? Someone we trust?”

Christopher hesitated. “No. It's too risky.”

Grace sighed. “Okay.”

Christopher tapped it down. “No friends,” he murmured. “No family. No teachers.”

Grace was thinking about the second rule. After he was done writing, she said, “No kissing on the lips.”

Christopher blinked. “Oh,” he said. “I never thought about it, to be honest.”

Grace took the laptop from him. “On the cheek, on the hand, that's okay. Hell, even the neck. But not on the lips. And it should be consensual. I guess we can break it only if the situation is really desperate.”

“Fair enough,” he said as Grace was writing it. “Though I didn't think we would need it.”

Grace shrugged. “The key to a good relationship is commutation.”

Christopher smiled.

“Okay,” she looked at Christopher. “When do we break up?”

“When we win the competition,” he said immediately.

Grace arched an eyebrow. “Ambitious, are we?”

Christopher shrugged. “I'm not arrogant. Only practical. We can win.”

Grace wrote it down.

“Oh, another thing,” she said. “You have to break up with me.”

Christopher blinked again and uncomfortably shifted on his seat. “Why?”

“Because all this scheme would be worthless if I "break your heart",” she said. Then after a second, quieter, added. “And maybe so people can stop virgin-shaming you once and for all. Hopefully.”

Christopher looked touched but before he could speak, Grace said sharply, “Anyway. Something else?”

Christopher looked thoughtful. “Hmm,” he murmured. “I guess we can use the excuse we're lab partners to say how we got together. So,” he shrugged. “I don't think there is anything else.”

“Wait!” Grace suddenly said. “What do we do to convince people we are dating? Because we are not going to be like one of those couples that post selfies on instagram.”

Christopher frowned, confused. “What do you mean? Isn't rule two about this?”

“Yes but,” Grace hesitated. She felt silly. “People would want to see… I don't know… chemistry or something.”

“We are literally partners in a chemistry class?”

“I mean…” Grace signed. “People like it when couples really like each other and have… connection…?”

Christopher looked more confused than ever.

“I don't understand it either!” Grace said defensively.

“You have been in relationships before!”

“This doesn't mean I know how it works,” she frowned.

Christopher shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. Let’s leave it for now. We’ll add it if we come up with something.”

“Fine,” she said. She stared at the screen for a second. “How do we name it? It should be something other people won’t recognize if they stumble upon it.”

Christopher narrowed his eyes as he thought. Grace could almost see the wheels that were spinning in his head. Then he grinned.

“I have an idea,” he pulled the laptop in front of himself. His glasses reflected the electric blue light. After he was done he turned it over to her.

Grace laughed. “How did you even come up with that?”

He shrugged. “I like to put names only I know the meaning of. My family won’t even blink at this - they’re used to my odd titles.”

Grace grinned. “People have no idea what genius you really are.”

Marie Curie's Guide to Fake Chemistry

1. Grace and Christopher are not allowed to tell anybody about the fake relationship. Friends, family and teachers included.

2. No kissing on the lips. Cheeks, hands and necks are allowed but only with consent or when it's planned. The rule can be broken only if it's unavoidable.

3. Grace and Christopher will break up when the competition “Marie Curie” is over.

4. Christopher will break up with Grace.

5. Grace and Christopher can add new rules any time, as long as the other agrees.

•

“You,” James slowly said.

“...and Grace,” Matthew finished.

The Merry Thieves were in the Devil Tavern and Christopher just told them that he and Grace were "together".

At first they reacted with disbelief. Matthew thought he was joking.

“Yes,” Chrisphioher repeated. “We are together.”

Thomas smiled. “Good for you! You must really like her.” He got up to hug Kit for a second. “Now,” he said, back in his seat. “More important matters: food.”

He continued to talk like nothing happened. Chrisphioher was oddly grateful for this. Matthew and James looked unsure but moved on eventually.

They talked about their classes and since all of them were studying different things, it was always an endless topic. Matthew was complaining about how boring his art history teacher was and James told a mini analysis of Dickens’ entire work.

He liked it most when Thomas talked though. Linguistics had logic that remained Chrisphioher of chemistry.

“Hey, don’t be mean,” Matthew said as they all were laughing at his poor sketch of a building. No one could even guess the style.

“Don’t worry,” Thomas said with a smile, trying hard not to laugh. “I’m sure the teacher will appreciate the effort.”

“She better,” he said with a low tone. “I put my heart into it.”

James rolled his eyes. Thank gods, Matthew didn’t notice.

“Anyway,” Thomas said. “I gotta go.”

They blinked at him.

“Where?” James said.

Thomas shrugged. “I need to do some stuff for Eugenia.”

“But this is our night,” Christopher said with a frown. “Every Friday.”

“Yes!” Matthew added. “We always stay up until late.”

Thomas hesitated. He looked guilty. “I’m sorry, guys,” he said. “I should leave you for tonight.”

James made a face. Christopher wasn’t feeling too good about it either.

“Hey, you can still stay here and have a good time,” Thomas suggested. “Just one night, okay?”

They watched him as he was leaving until he was outside.

“What’s the point if it’s not the four of us,” Matthew said bitterly.

“Just one time,” Christopher said. He hated it when his friends were upset.

“Yeah, one time. An exception,” Matthew said. “And then again. It would be an emergency of some sort. And then again. And again. Until the tradition is ruined and no one shows up.”

“Math, with all the love in the world,” James said. “Stop bitching.”

Christopher bite back a smile. Matthew rolled his eyes.

“Anyway,” James said as he got up. “I’m leaving too.”

“What?” Matthew almost shouted.

“Thomas left,” James shrugged. “We won’t do anything tonight so I may as well go see Cordelia.”

Matthew groaned. “Traitors,” he turned to Christopher. “What, are you gonna leave too?”

“Nope,” he said as he bit into a lemon tart. “I’m just gonna eat.”

Matthew nodded approvingly. “Good. The two of us are the survivors.”

Christopher chuckled. Matthew’s dramatism was so entertaining.

“Anyway,” he said with a sigh. “So, tell me. Why Grace?”

Christopher tensed immediately. “What?”

“I mean,” Matthew said. “You never cared for all the girls and guys I have been suggesting to you. Why of all, you choose the Heartbreaker?”

“Don’t call her that,” Christopher said sharply.

Matthew blinked at him. “But-”

“No,” he said firmly. “She hates this nickname. And we both know it’s exaggerated.”

“Come on, Kit,” he looked unsure. “It’s not that big of a deal-”

“You know what,” Christopher got up too, putting on his coat. “I’m leaving too. I’m not hungry anymore.”

Christopher was aware he was probably overreacting. Matthew didn’t mean harm. But then he remembered Grace’s face when people were shooting those things in the classroom. And he knew he couldn’t have passed Matthew’s comment.

•

“Don’t,” Grace snapped.

“I haven’t said anything!” Alastair said.

“You are thinking.”

They were sitting on Kamala's couch, the three of them in pajamas, watching the latest episode of a rom-com neither of them liked. But it was fun to hate on it and they could talk while watching.

“He’s just…” Kamala hesitated. “Not your type.”

Grace silently looked at the TV. She wasn’t too happy to lie to her friends. But she could do it.

“So what?” she said eventually. “No, actually - what even is my type?”

Alastair and Kamala looked at each other.

“Assholes,” Alastair said straightforwardly.

Grace blinked. This wasn’t the answer she expected.

“I…”

Kamala shrugged.

“Sorry girl, it’s true,” she said. “And if for some reason a boyfriend seems nice and cute, he turns out to be toxic, manipulative or wants to use you. Or all of them.”

Alastair nodded with a dark expression.

Grace looked away, without answering. It was true. She has been in many relationships, many of them bad. She was trying so hard at the time to feel attracted to them, and sometimes she did. Sex was nice and she thought she’ll fall in love with one of them. But it never happened. Her romantic feelings were mild, if there at all. And if it happened to be stronger for some “nice” guy, he turned out shitty. She wasn’t afraid of breaking up with them. She was afraid of what was supposed to happen that just… didn’t. It always ended before she could explore it, for one reason or another.

Assholes were the only people who wouldn’t be hurt if she didn’t show them the affection that was supposed to be there, if they expected it at all. They used each other and they knew it. But there were a few nice ones, a few guys that liked to talk after a break up, and she ended up with the nickname the Heartbreaker.

A loud laugh came from the TV. The main characters were in some desperately stupid situation. Grace grabbed some popcorn. It was better to watch the disaster the allos were instead of thinking how she was fake dating her lab partner.

“Hey,” Kamala quietly said, wrapping a hand around Grace’s shoulders. “Sorry if we were mean. We want only the best for you. And we know that sometimes you’re not giving it to yourself.”

Grace’s throat tightened. She let her head fall on Kamala’s shoulder and she closed her eyes. She couldn’t imagine what she would do without her friends. Without their support and understanding, without them to look after her.

She thought about Christopher. His friends didn’t know. He couldn’t use their support like she did. He didn’t have anyone but her, knowing who he truly is. Grace hoped, really hoped, he would find peace with himself.

•

“Is this all?” Grace asked, marking with a green pen some things in her notebook.

Grace and Christopher were in the chemistry lab together with their other teammates. Kit knew almost all of them. They had been working together before.

Mrs. Mitchell gave a few tasks for every pair. Grace and Christopher were almost done.

Christopher looked at the paper the teacher gave them. “Yes,” he said. “Now we have to mix the two and wait for a reaction for a few minutes.”

Grace carеfully poured the liquid in the conical flasks while Kit was holding the funnel.

“Done,” Grace said.

They both just sat then, watching as the liquids they were making for the past forty minutes were changing colours.

“So,” Christopher said. He licked his lips. “My friends want to meet you.”

Grace gave him a brief glance. “Okay.”

“You don’t have to though,” he said quickly. “Matthew will be passive aggressive, James will be super polite and only Thomas will probably be friendly.”

Her lips curled at the mention of Thomas. “I see,” she said. “I don’t mind. Fairchild’s big ego doesn’t scare me.”

“You sure? You really don’t have too.”

“Don’t worry,” Grace said with a smile. “I’m a strong girl.”

“I know,” Christopher said. “I just don’t want you to need to be one.”

Grace blinked at him, a strange emotion crossing her face. Before she could say something, Mrs. Mitchell came to check how they were doing and the conversation stopped. Christopher’s heart was beating fast and he felt a strange anxiety forming in his stomach.

•

They agreed to meet at the Hell Rule the next week. Grace wasn’t too worried. The Merry Thieves weren’t half as intimidating as Christopher thought they were. And Grace’s friends were meaner.

“Hey,” Christopher smiled at her. She kissed his cheek and he wrapped a hand around her shoulders.

They have talked about what they will do so it doesn't turn awkward or unbelievable. It still felt strange. Not bad though.

“Hi,” Thomas first greeted her, smiling. She shook his hand, immediately liking him. She could see why Alastair fell so hard for him.

Matthew on the other hand wasn't that friendly but he tried to smile at her. It ended up more as a grimace. Kamala who was next to them smiled at them as well, shaking Kit’s hand.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” she said.

“Me too,” he said. “I have heard so much about you.”

Kamala smiled even bigger and turned to the other two boys, greeting them as well.

“Where is Alastair?” Grace asked as they all sat down.

“He will come later,” she said. “It’s Lucie’s birthday soon and he has to help Cordelia with something about it.”

“James won’t come, by the way,” Matthew said. “Same reason.”

Thomas laughed. “The world is small, isn’t it?”

“Indeed,” Grace said.

She glanced at Christopher who still had his arm around her shoulders. She had to admit she kind of liked it.

“So, Grace,” Thomas said. “I heard you have been in an art class for a while?”

Grace laughed. “Oh, this is a funny story.”

From there the conversation continued. Matthew and Kamala seemed to like each other. Thomas and Grace too. So far it was going better than she had expected.

She spotted Alastair coming in, looking around. She waved at him and he saw her. Everyone on the table turned to him. When he approached them, Grace stood up to introduce him. Then he sat next to Thomas, extra careful not to look at him too much. Grace was barely holding back her grin. These two were trying a little too hard not to show they’re together. Looking at Kamala, she knew her friend was thinking the same.

The rest was a bit of a blur. They talked about school, common acquaintances and funny stories with someone else from the group. They ordered alcohol. Grace wasn’t sure it was a good idea but she didn’t say anything. She was afraid of what someone may say or do while drunk. It would be fun though.

“Ok, no, stop,” Matthew said, already at his third glass. “Let’s spice it up. This is boring.”

Kamala giggled. “I have an idea.”

She grabbed a bottle from the middle of the table, poured the rest of it in her cup and looked at them. She arched an eyebrow. “We can play spin the bottle.”

Thomas grinned uncharacteristically wild and started to take off the rest of the bottles that were in the middle of the table. Everyone helped, Grace and Christopher the least drunk from them. Maybe Christopher. Grace was a little tipsy.

“Okay,” Kamala said and spun the bottle. It landed on Matthew. She grinned. “Kiss the most attractive person on this table.”

Christopher frowned. “This is not how this game works.”

Kamala shrugged. “I’m a lesbian and the only other non-man person is your girlfriend. I say to play it differently.”

Matthew thought for a second. “Kiss the most attractive person you say… then, can I kiss your hand, milady?”

Kamala apparently found this incredibly funny because she laughed. But she allowed it. Matthew kissed her hand respectively.

Thomas rolled his eyes. “Who are the boring ones now?” he said.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Matthew grinned wickedly. “It’s my turn.”

He spun the bottle. After a long spinning, it pointed at Alastair. Her friend groaned.

“Ok, Carstairs,” Matthew said. “Same thing. Kiss the most attractive person on the table. On the mouth. Nowhere else.”

Alastair looked very seriously around the table. He didn’t have too many options, Grace thought. Grace and Kamala were out of question and Christopher was her boyfriend so he wouldn’t choose him out of respect for her. There were left only Thomas, his secret boyfriend, and Matthew who, Grace knew, Alastair disliked.

“I see, ” Alastair said seriously and turned to Thomas. He wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled Thomas towards him. Thomas’ eyes widened as their lips crushed. Matthew was staring at them with his mouth agape. Grace turned away. It was a game but she still didn’t think it’s her place to see something so personal.

After a few seconds they pulled away, breathing hard. Alastair was flushed but kept his expression cool as much as it was possible. Thomas on the other hand was a blushing mess. The alcohol didn’t help.

“Let’s continue,” Thomas said, clearing his throat. He grabbed the bottle and spun it, glancing at Alastair every two seconds.

It pointed at Grace. She tensed.

“Oh thank god,” he murmured with relief. “I dare you to kiss the person on your left.”

The person on her left was Christopher. Her pseudo boyfriend.

They turned to each other, the same uncertainty written all over their faces.

The second rule. The one Grace personally insisted on. No kissing on the lips. Allowed only when the situation is unavoidable.

Was this unavoidable? If they refused it would be weird. They were a couple. Thomas specifically said it so they don’t have to struggle.

She placed a hand on Kit’s cheek. She licked her lips. “Is this okay? Can I?” she said so quietly only he could hear.

“Grace,” he said as quietly as her. “You set this rule. I don’t really care about kissing. Will you be okay with it?”

Grace glanced away for a second, thinking. If this was Kit’s first kiss, she wouldn’t want to take it away. But he said he doesn’t care. It wasn’t something he valued. And it wasn’t Grace’s place to doubt him.

She closed her eyes and leaned down, her hands on Christopher’s cheeks.

His lips were unexpectedly soft. Maybe a little dry. And warm.

Kissing Christopher was as unexpected as everything else about him. Sweet. Delightful. Undeniably charming.

His arm wrapped around her waist, bringing her a little closer. He was warm and strange, and a ticklish feeling was forming in her chest.

Then it was over. A kiss that lasted no more than a few seconds. Grace felt a little tipsy and it wasn't just the alcohol.

Christopher Lightwood was making himself home at her heart and she wasn't sure she liked it.

•

Was he drunk? Did he drink too much whisky? Or this was beer? Maybe wine? He certainly drank something sweet that reminded him of wine.

When Grace pulled away she looked as composed as she was before. Her nose was a little flushed because of the alcohol but other than this she looked perfectly put together.

Christopher on the other hand felt out of breath, hot and he was sure his face was red.

“Aww, look how he's blushing!” Kamala said, confirming his theory. “You two are adorable.”

At which, of course, Christopher blushed even more.

“Shut up,” Grace murmured and drank from her cup.

Kamala and Thomas grinned at them, equally drunk. Matthew was almost sleeping on the table. Only Alastair looked like he could control himself.

They didn't continue the game. They just couldn't. They were far too drunk to care.

They decided it's time for everyone to go home.

“Oopsie,” Kamala giggled as she tried to stand up and staggered.

Thomas, ever the gentleman, tried to stand up too, in order to help her.

“Let me- ugh,” he was pulled back on his seat by Alastair.

“There aren't enough sober people to pick you up if you fall on the ground, so don't even try, Lightwood.”

Thomas looked at him and smiled a happy, drunk smile. “Okay. Whatever you say.” He had all but hearts in his eyes as he looked at Alastair.

Alastair rolled his eyes but a tiny smile creeped on his face.

“Anyway,” he said and stood up.

Grace narrowed his eyes at him. “You didn't drink, did you?”

He snorted. “Of course I didn’t. Someone has to drive,” he turned to Kamala, gently taking her hand. “I’ll take everyone at their homes,” he nodded at Thomas and Matthew. “Look after them. I’ll be back in a minute.”

He slowly moved through the bar, with Kamala hanging on his side, chuckling.

Grace turned to Christopher. “We’re the only ones, huh?”

Kit smiled. “Apparently.”

Grace stretched her arms up. As she did it her shirt rose a little bit. He accidentally spotted it, a piece of skin on her back dotted with freckles. He blushed and quickly looked away. Grace didn’t notice.

Alastair returned, alone this time. “Someone help me with Thomas.”

Christopher jumped off his seat. “I will.”

Alastair arched an eyebrow at his enthusiasm. “There aren’t many options, aren’t there?”

Once everyone was in Alastair’s car, he slowly went out on the road. “Okay, Kamala’s parents shouldn’t see her like this so she’ll crash at my place. And I know Grace’s address. What about the rest of you?”

“Thomas’ campus is close,” Christopher said. “Just turn over- Yes!” He was in the back seat, trying to keep Matthew from falling in his lap. “Most people always confuse the road because of the trees that are hiding the sign for the campus. Have you been here before?”

“Well,” Alastair said, looking straight at the road. “I have… a friend here, of a sort.”

Grace arched an eyebrow and smirked but didn’t say anything.

With joint efforts they managed to move Thomas. Christopher had a key for his dorm. He was soundly asleep when they left.

“Where to take Fairchild?” Alastair said as they were back in the car.

“My place,” Kit said. “I don’t have a key for his dorm and his parents don’t like it when he drinks this much.”

Alastair murmured something but Christopher couldn’t hear what.

After he helped Kit to put Matthew on the couch in his living room, he turned to Alastair. “Thank you so much,” he said sincerely. “I don’t know what we would have done without you.”

“You’re very much not welcome,” Alastair said.

“This means he likes you,” Grace assured Christopher.

“Shut up, Cartwright,” he frowned. She gave him an air kiss.

“Anyway,” she said. She turned towards Kit. “Can I use the bathroom?”

“Sure,” he said. He pointed in its direction. “The second door on the left.”

As Grace disappeared behind the said door Alastair suddenly turned to Christopher. He blinked at him. “Wha-”

“Listen to me, Lightwood,” he said. “I don’t give a single shit what you’re exactly thinking by dating Grace. But if at some point you hurt her or break her heart, I’ll have you praying to have been hurt physically instead of the things I’ll do to you. And when I’m done, Kamala will come for you and, believe me, it won’t be pretty.”

Christopher swolled. “I- I don’t-”

“I don’t care,” Alastair said. “You be careful not to be a dickhead and we all will be happy and well.”

He turned on his heels and walked to his car. Christopher could only watch after him. Alastair closed the door with a loud noise and continued to glare at Christopher.

He heard Grace going out of the bathroom. “See you tomorrow,” she said and kissed his cheek.

He watched as his pseudo girlfriend got into the car. A doopy smile appeared on his face. He didn’t know if it was because of how absurd the whole situation was, the alcohol or just because he had a really good time tonight, with his friends and Grace. The last one seemed the scariest.

•

The competition “Marie Curie” was held after one week and Grace didn’t think she was ready.

She barely has seen Christopher during the holidays. They texted a lot but mostly to help each other with their chemistry tasks. It was the last day before school started again and Grace unexpectedly got a text from Kit asking her if she could come to help him with a problem.

She immediately said to send her the address.

“Hi,” Christopher said as he opened the door. Grace was shocked by his look. His hair was messy, even more than usual and he had dark circles under his eyes. “This way.”

As he was leading her through the house she saw photos on the walls. It was clean but dusty.

“Is this Matthew?” she said as she looked at a photo of a little blonde boy playing on the floor with an older red-headed guy.

Christopher barely glanced at it. “Yeah,” he said. “This is Fairchild's house. Henry, Matthew’s father, is a scientist and he allows me to use his lab whenever I want. They're currently on vacation so the house is empty.”

Grace nodded, still looking around.

“Welcome to heaven,” he opened a door.

Grace was hit by the scent of chemicals, cleaning agents and maybe even smoke. It looked a lot like the lab in school but messier.

“I can spend a few days here,” Grace smiled.

Christopher smiled as well.

“Here,” he handed her a bunch of papers. Grace’s gaze travelled through it, trying to understand what it was. It was calculations. A lot of them, different equations and formulas, crossed numbers and a few holes in the paper. All of it was at least ten lists, written on both sides.

She looked at Christopher. “What is this?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I have been trying to do one of Mitchell's last tasks in a… different way.”

Grace narrowed her eyes. “What way? The task is hard enough on it’s own. And how long have you been trying?”

“A few days maybe?” he shrugged. “I lost track of time.”

“And no one came to check on you here?”

“I told them I’m going out with you,” he confessed.

Grace looked at the papers again. There were more of them on the desk.

“Kit…”

“Just hear me out,” he said hurriedly and started to frantically search through the mess that was the table. “Look, here I caught something but I couldn't find the right formula. And the equacions aren’t adding up- ”

“Christopher.”

Startled by her tone, he looked at her blinking slowly.

She carefully put a hand on his shoulder. “You are exhausted.”

He looked away but didn’t deny it.

“The fatigue makes our brains fuzzy. We are not meant to work past our breaking point. You need a rest. You need sleep.”

“You don’t understand,” he rapidly began to shake his head. “The competition is in a less than a week, the task is due tomorrow and I can’t afford-”

“No,” she said. “Unlike many people I actually do understand. I know how hard it is to give up, even for a while.”

“I’m just… so close,” he said with pleading eyes. “I know it. If I only had a few more days I’d figure it out…”

“I know,” Grace whispered. She gently pulled him for a hug. He buried his face in her neck and placed hands on her hips. He relaxed against her.

“Listen,” she said quietly. “You’ll take a nap now. So when you wake up you can take a fresh look. Meanwhile, I’ll look it up too and together we will solve it. You know how needed is another point of view sometimes.”

“Ok,” he said with a sigh. His breath sent shivers on her spine.

“Come on,” she said. He showеd her the room he had for himself. It was small, only with a bed, a nightstand and a dresser with a few clothes.

Christopher fell into bed, taking off his glasses and putting them in the nightstand. Grace covered him with the blanket that was shoved to the end of the bed.

“Don’t touch my glasses, please,” he murmured. “I don’t like people touching them.”

“I won’t,” Grace promised but Kit was already asleep.

She found his backpack in the room. She found the individually-wrapped optical wipes that she had seen him using before. She put one in the nightstand and left the room.

Then she went to the lab to look at Christopher’s notes.

•

Mrs. Mitchell wasn’t too pleased they had done an individual task together. But eventually she admitted they have done a good job on it.

Christopher couldn’t find himself a place from excitement. He was a little sleep-dehydrated but the whole chemistry team was free of classes so they could practice. It was awesome.

Right now Grace and another girl were discussing an equation with Mrs. Mitchell.

He got lost in his own notes, solving the next problem. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed. At some point Grace was sitting next to him, calling his name.

“Yes?” he looked at her.

She arched an eyebrow. “The classes are over.”

He looked around the room. One more boy was packing his stuff but except him, there was no one else in the room.

“Do you want to stay a little longer?”

“Okay,” Grace shrugged.

The boy waved at them for goodbye and left, closing the door after himself.

“I was thinking,” Grace said, she was playing with her hair, looking around the room. She seemed oddly nervous. “Maybe we should change the second rule. The one about kissing.”

“Um…” Christopher said, unsure.

“If we both don’t have any problems kissing each other, of course,” she said. “I mean… if we do, we will be more natural looking. And won’t need to plan every step when we’re going out in public.”

Christopher nodded slowly. “You are right,” he said. “If it doesn't bother either of us.”

“Good,” Grace took out her phone and opened the google doc. Christopher watched as she was writing it down.

He looked away, licking his lips. A strange feeling was forming in his stomach when he looked at Grace. Her smile. Her eyes when she finally solved a chemical problem. Her laugh at some of his lame jokes.

He also started to notice other things. Things that reminded him that Grace is a very, very attractive person.

He swallowed. Maybe changing the second rule wasn’t the best idea. No, he knew it had the potential for a disaster.

His brain knew it. But his chest was filled with a sweet, fluffy feeling.

He jumped from his seat. Grace blinked at him, startled.

“Enough for today,” he said, grabbing his things. “Do you want to go drink something?”

“Sure,” she said, picking up her stuff as well, looking at him oddly.

They left the lab.

Marie Curie's Guide to Fake Chemistry

1. Grace and Christopher are not allowed to tell anybody about the fake relationship. Friends, family and teachers included.

2. Kissing on the lips is allowed for the sake of being more natural looking.

3. Grace and Christopher will break up when the competition “Marie Curie” is over.

4. Christopher will break up with Grace.

5. Grace and Christopher can add new rules any time, as long as the other agrees.

•

Grace quickly spotted Kamala and Alastair in the crowd. Not that there were a lot of people. But with the families of their teammates and opponents, some friends, some teachers and the judghs, there were some.

Mrs. Mitchell was telling them a few last encouraging words, hyping them up. Christopher was practically vibrating with excitement next to Grace. She smiled. If he got even a little more hyped he’d explode.

“And remember,” Mrs. Mitchell said. “In the end, we all will learn something from our mistakes from today, no matter who is the winner. But the key in chemistry isn’t not to make mistakes. It’s to give all you can and learn. Always to learn from each other.”

With one last smile she sent them to the stage. Grace took a deep breath.

She looked at Christopher. He looked at her.

“Are you nervous?” he whispered.

Grace smiled. “Terrified.”

He grinned. “Same.”

Together, they went out on the stage.

•

The whole competition lasted a few hours with three rounds and two breaks. It was a blur of formulas, equations, chemical reactions and unpleasant scents that make you dizzy.

Somehow Grace found herself sitting on a bench with the rest of her teammates and Mrs. Mitchell. They were waiting for the results from the last round to be processed and compared with the ones from the previous rounds.

Cold sweat was running down her spine. Her stomach was a wrecked ball. Then suddenly and at the same time too slow, a judge came on the stage with an envelope. With a smile he opened it and read out aloud the name of the winner.

It was their school.

The team exploded in loud cries of joy, jumping around and hugging each other. Some hugged Mrs. Mitchell, others their lap partner. Christopher grabbed her in a fierce hug, lifting her from the ground. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, laughing and crying at the same time.

When he finally let her on the ground again, she saw his eyes were glassy. Grace wasn’t sure who initiated it and it didn’t matter. Their lips crushed into each other.

It was different from the kiss in the Hell Rule. It was deeper, rougher and both of them were too consumed by the moment to care who watched. It was a dancing battle, a brutal consuming. Heat was spreading across her body and Christopher’s hands left fire wherever they touched.

When the need of oxygen was too great, they parted but stayed close. For a few moments at least.

In the way Christopher was looking at her, there was nothing fake. It wasn’t a scheme for other people. It felt more real than her ex-boyfriends ever were.

•

After that their friends come to them to say their congratulations. The team went out to celebrate. The whole evening was full of drinking, laughing and Grace's shining eyes Christopher couldn’t stop seeing.

It was magnificent, heated and so much needed. They all needed this wild celebration after the hard work. All weeks of studying, the sleepless nights, texting with Grace, the hours with her in the lab… was this over now?

He enjoyed the night. He truly did. Even though it was a blur he barely remembered. But he got home with a dreadful feeling in his stomach.

The competition was over. This meant he had to break up with Grace.

•

Thankfully, the next day was Saturday so they didn’t have to go to school. Grace didn’t think she could.

She spent the night at Kamala’s place together with Alastair, drunk and with blurry memories from the evening.

When she woke up, everything was quiet but her head. She looked around, blinking. She was in the living room, lying on the couch. Everything was shadow-ish, thank god. She spotted Kamala sitting in front of a window. The only stronger light was coming from it. Alastair wasn’t nowhere to be seen.

“Hey,” Grace said, her voice so raspy she barely recognized it.

Kamala looked at her, a little startled, and smiled. “Good morning, sunshine.”

Grace groaned in response.

“There is water next to you and some medicine if you want.”

Grace grabbed the water but didn’t touch the pills. She hated most medicines and the situation wasn’t that desperate.

With the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders, Grace dragged herself to Kamala and sat next to her on the floor. There were tons of pillows beneath them so it was soft.

“You know,” Kamala chuckled. “It’s a relief that even someone as attractive as you is a messy monster creature in the mornings.”

Grace hit her with a pillow.

Still laughing, Kamala took it away from Grace’s hands and Grace didn’t fight it. She was too sleepy for that.

“Where is Alastair?” she asked instead.

“Still sleeping,” Kamala said. “He fell asleep in my room, so,” she shrugged. “I decided I’ll wait for one of you to wake up.”

“What happened yesterday?”

“Not much,” she said. “A girl from your team called us through your phone and told us to come pick you up. You and Christopher were very drunk so we decided to drop him at his house. Alastair asked Thomas for the address.”

“Oh,” Grace just said. Memories from yesterday came to her mind like a tornado. The team were playing some silly drinking games. Mrs. Mitchell saying goodbye to them and to have fun. Christopher kissing her.

Her cheeks burned.

Kamala, of course, noticed. She grinned. “You’re thinking about your guy?”

Grace didn’t answer. There was no need.

“We saw you on the stage, by the way,” Kamala said. “Well, everyone did,” she chuckled. “You have chemistry, I can’t deny you that. It was sweet.”

An uneasy feeling spread in Grace's stomach. All she could think about was the name of their guide. Marie Curie's guide to fake chemistry. Fake chemistry, fake chemistry, fake, fake, fake-

There was nothing fake about their kiss yesterday. Grace couldn't breathe.

“I…” Grace swallowed. “I need to check on him.”

“He’s probably still sleeping,” she said. “I hope he is. Hangover is a bitch.”

Grace carefully got up and tried her best not to look like she was having a panic attack. She grabbed her stuff and left Kamala’s house.

•

Since the competition was over, Christopher and Grace didn’t have as much time as before to see each other.

Christopher hasn’t heard from Grace the whole Sunday and today they didn’t share classes. He was dreading what he had to do. In the beginning, he thought it would be easy - they would "break up", act heartbroken a few weeks and get to be lap partners again. No big deal.

He didn’t actually expect to feel heartbroken.

The phone in his pocket vibrated. As he looked it up, he saw it’s a text from Grace. Meet at the lap after classes?

His stomach was a wreck of anxiety as he sent a simple ok in reply.

He was thankful there were only two classes left. He was so anxious he couldn’t quite concentrate on them. All he could think about was the kiss on that stage. Grace’s hair in his fingers. Her drunk smile when they were celebrating.

After the classes were over he headed straight to the laboratory, sending a quick text to Thomas saying he won't be able to wait in front of his faculcity today. He opened the door, expecting to see an empty room. He was caught off guard by Grace who was standing by the window. She looked up to him with sharp eyes. How he hadn’t noticed how striking her eyes are?

“Hey, nerd,” she said with a smile. She seemed tired.

Christopher was just standing there, half way closing the door, frozen. He licked his lips. He closed the door and put his backpack on the closest desk, running a hand through his hair.

“I can’t do it.”

“What?” Grace said, blinking at him.

“I can’t break up with you,” he said. “I… I don’t know how. I mean…” frustrated, he started to walk around the room. “My feelings changed. They didn’t grow and I didn’t start to care about you more than before or something. They just transformed into something different. Do… do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

Grace closed her eyes and looked away.

“I’m trying to say I… if you don’t-”

“Stop,” she said.

Christopher flinched. But stopped.

In his chest he had a chunk of feelings he couldn’t understand fully. And they were hot and wet, bubbling like hot water and demanding something. Christopher didn’t think he was able to give it.

“I…” Grace said. Paused. Started again. “I… I feel something for you too.”

Something fragile started to bloom in KIt’s chest. It suspiciously looked like hope.

“But, Kit, I…” she looked at him, insecurity written all over her face. Christopher hated to see it in her. Hated to see it because it was a mirror to his own. Insecurity every time when his parents teased him about love, when his friends suggested a person he can date, when someone started to talk about their sex life, when someone brought up their made-up ship in his favorite sci-fi movies… Every time when relationships were involved and he was out of his element.

“I feel attraction rarely and mildly,” Grace continued in a low voice. “It fades away after time, or changes to something else,” she looked him in the eye. “I love you, Christopher. I love you. But I’m not sure I can fall for you.”

Tears of relief and something else filled his eyes. He made a step towards her.

“This is okay,” he said, his throat tightened. “This is not what is important to me.”

“I won’t be able to give you the amount of affection you probably want.”

“No problem,” he said with a smile. “I’m too busy to do it too.”

“And I’m picky with touch,” she said. “Some days I can’t stand it and the next I want to cuddle.”

“I hate it when people touch my glasses and iron my clothes.”

“I love to hate on rom-coms.”

“I love to criticize action movies.”

She smiled, joy dancing in her eyes.

“I prefer DC,” she said teasingly.

“And I - MCU,” he said with a grin.

With every answer he was making a step towards Grace until he was standing in front of her.

“I’m a bitch,” she murmured, glancing at his lips.

“I’m a socially awkward nerd,” he said and kissed her.

Two smiles crushed into each other, sweet things with a hint of a spark.

They parted, laughing and holding on to the other.

“It is not the most romantic kiss we have had, is it?” Kit said with a smile.

“Nope,” Grace said with a grin. “But the most adorable.”

Christopher gently took her hands and kissed her knuckles. “This okay?” he murmured.

“Yeah,” Grace smiled.

He looked at her. He couldn’t stop the soft smile from appearing on his face and he didn’t want to.

“I’m sorry I’m ruining the moment but,” Grace said. “We should correct the google doc.”

Christopher half smiled, half groaned. “And here I thought I’m supposed to say stuff like this!”

“Nonsense,” Grace said as she was pulling out her phone. “You tend to be more messy. I like order.”

“True,” he admitted. “I have a thing for chaos sometimes.”

Grace thoughtfully looked at Kit. “First thing first - the name.”

She stared at her phone for a second then smiled. “Okay, I came up with something,” she said. “It’s not as creative as yours,” she added. “But it’s cute.”

He went behind her to look over her shoulder. He smiled. “I like this one better.”

“And,” Grace said with a prideful smile. “A new rule I think you’ll like.”

As she was tapping Christopher places his hands around her waist, kissing the top of her head.

When she showed him what she had written, he smiled widely. Grace looked amused.

“I want to add one too!” Kit said.

“Go ahead,” Grace said. Still hugging her from behind, he took her phone and started to write.

“Oh, this is a good one,” Grace smiled as she realized what he was writing.

“It’s not exactly a rule,” Christopher said. “But since this is a guide…”

“Don't worry,” Grace kissed his cheek. “This is the best one.”

•

Grace and Christopher's Guide to non-Fake Chemistry

1. Grace and Christopher are not allowed to tell anybody about the fake relationship. Friends, family and teachers included.

2. Kissing is allowed for the sake of being more natural looking.

3. Grace and Christopher will break up when the competition “Marie Curie” is over.

4. Christopher will break up with Grace.

5. Grace and Christopher can add new rules any time, as long as the other agrees.

6. The previous rules are bullshit. Christopher and Grace will figure it out as they go.

7. Christopher and Grace will be happy.

•

WORDS: 9 022

(If anyone is wondering, yes, this is a little inspired by Hani and Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating)

106 notes · View notes

thomaslightwood · 3 years ago

Text

The life he was supposed to have || TMI gang meets Ash

The idea of this one shot was inspired by this post, with a little help from @carstairs-hopelessly 💗

Ash meets the TMI gang and the Lightwoods are remained of what could have been for Max. Angst with happy ending hehe

Words: 1 814

•

Isabelle watched as Ash Morgenstern, the son of the monster who killed her brother, entered the room. His face was a cold mask but Isabelle could see right through it. Under it was hidden the fear and anxiety of a young boy as his gaze traveled throughout the room. He had short white-blond hair that made her sick in her stomach.

Clary smiled warmly at him and greeted him. Simon greened at him and Emma straight up hugged him. Isabelle could see the shock on his face as Emma did that. He hesitantly hugged her back. When she let go of him he shyly smiled at the group and Isabelle saw Clary in him. The green eyes, a little bit of his smile. But it was a smile that had the potential to become cruel.

She quietly left the room.

•

Alec watched as his sister fought to keep her expression under control. And how she lost. Simon gave her a worried look. Alec put a hand on his shoulder and said quietly, “I’ll talk with her.”

Simon nodded, still looking at the place where Isabelle left the room. He nodded at Magnus who squeezed Alec’s hand before letting go. Alec headed towards the kitchen, his heart heavy. He knew why his sister was upset. Because he was too.

“Izzy,” he said. She was standing in front of the window, with his back turned to him. She didn’t move when Alec approached. He stood next to her and looked at her with the corner of his eye. She didn’t move her gaze away from the window.

“He would be sixteen years old if he was here today,” Isabelle whispered.

Alec took a sharp breath. Her words stabbed him like a seraph blade.

“But he died when he was nine years old,” she continued. Her voice - low and a little hoarse. “He died even before he could live, Alec.”

Tears filled Alec’s eyes and he took an unsteady breath. He didn’t say anything.

“He could have gone to the Academy with Dru,” she said. “Even to the Scholomance with Ty,” her voice was raspy and raw now. “But instead the son of his murderer is living the life he was supposed to have.”

“Isabelle,” Alec winced. He couldn’t make himself get angry at her. “It’s not Ash's fault,” he whispered.

“I know,” she closed her eyes but one tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. Alec gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “This only makes it worse,” she sobbed.

The two siblings leaned on each other, tears on their faces.

Alec thought that with time pain will lessen. But it didn’t. Only changed. When Max died he was hurting for a long time. He had tried to hide it from his siblings. There were so many problems to deal with, new tragedies to be avoided. But with time this hurt became softer on its edges. Like a knife who was becoming blunt from too much use. Instead of a blade in his heart, it became a thin coverlet which slowly covered his heart. Ache that hid in his bones, waited in his throat, cuddled in his stomach. Hurt that became part of him.

Shadowhunters were taught to do everything young because they die young. They didn’t grieve for their close ones like mundane. They were prepared for death. But there were days when Alec was asking himself, how can you be prepared for this? How could you ever be prepared for your nine-years-old brother to be killed in cold blood? To see his small body covered in blood, his glasses broken and his dead eyes staring at nothing, your sister tearing herself apart by guilt. To be betrayed by someone you should have never trusted - and this to cost the life of someone so young and close to you.

These were days when grief overcame him. Days when Magnus would make him hot chocolate and they would stay at home as long as they could. Magnus would brush his tears away and kiss him, whispering comfort words to him.

These days were rare now, usually only around Max's birthday or the day of his death. But his brother was always on the back of his mind. Looking at his own son couldn't not remind him of Max. But instead of making him sad, it made him happy. Even good things could come from grief and pain. But this wasn't what his sister wanted to hear.

“I can't go back there like this,” Isabelle whispered. No tears were left. Only an ache in their throats.

“Do you want to go out?” Alec said. “We can go to haunt demons. Do some old-fashioned job.”

Isabelle smiled, a fragile thing that broke Alec's heart.

“Sounds good.”

“Guys,” Jace appeared on the door, looking at them. Alec could see it on his face he was hurt to see them upset. “Is everything alright?”

“It's fine,” Alec said. An obvious lie, considering their puffy eyes and red noses. “We're going out for a bit. Can you tell Magnus I'll pick the kids from my mum?”

Jace nodded and his gaze followed his siblings as they put on their jackets. He approached Alec and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. “Be safe,” he murmured.

Alec smiled a little, unable to make himself give his parabatai a real smile. “I promise.”

Alec and Isabelle left and Jace stood there a moment longer, consumed by hurt for his family. He understood their pain and couldn't blame them. But he couldn't leave with them. Not when Ash was in the other room, anxiety written all over his face. He couldn't betray him like so many people in his life already did.

He turned away from the door and went back to see his nephew.

•

“Am I imaging,” Clary said. “Or Isabelle and Alec are kind of avoiding Ash? Especially Iz?”

Lily sniffed.

“Of course they are.”

Clary looked a little confused. “What do you mean?”

“Lily...” Jace started but Lily didn’t even look at him.

“The Lightwoods have to live with the fact that the son of the monster who killed their little brother is living the life Max could have had,” Lily said straightforwardly. “The boy looks a hella lot like Sebastian. I can’t imagine how they can even stand the sight of him, especially Isabelle.”

“Obviously they don't,” Maia murmured.

“Girls!” Jace made a face.

Clary turned to him. “You knew?”

Jace looked uncomfortable. “Well,” he said. “It's not like they told me or anything. But they have had a lot on their plates.”

Clary's knuckles became white. “We should talk with them,” she whispered.

Lily snorted. “What will you tell them? To stop having memories?”

“It's not like they treat him bad,” added Maia. “They just need more time.”

The conversation continued. And none of them noticed the boy listening to them.

•

Ash took a deep breath. His hands were shaking. He strained his back and entered the room.

Isabelle, Alec and Magnus were around the table with documents, talking. Isabelle laughed at something Magnus said and Alec smiled. Ash approached them.

“Hi,” he said. He tried to look as friendly as possible.

“Hello Ash,” Magnus gave him a warm smile. Alec and Isabelle glanced at each other but both nodded at him. Alec even smiled.

“Um,” Ash cleared his throat. “Can we talk for a second?” he said, looking at the siblings.

Magnus gracefully stood up. “I’ll get us something to drink,” he almost unconsciously squeezed Alec’s shoulder and left the room.

“What is it?” Alec looked at him. He seemed more curious than anything.

“I-” Ash said and stopped. He took a deep breath. And spitted out, “Please don’t hate me.”

Alec blinked at him. Isabelle turned her head quickly toward him. “What?”

Ash nervously looked at his feet. “I can only imagine how awful you must feel,” he said. “To look at me and see the person who killed your little brother. And even more to know he could have the life I have now. I’m sorry-”

In one moment he was speaking, trying to not let his voice shiver and the next he was furiously hugged. Ash couldn’t breathe. It was like someone kicked him in the stomach. He slowly wrapped his arms around Isabelle and returned the hug.

She stepped back and blinking rapidly looked at him. For a moment he saw tears but she hid them fast.

“I’m sorry I didn’t welcome you like this when you first came,” she said. “A lot of bad memories came, from a place that hurts. We… I should have reacted better. Max’s death isn’t your fault, Ash. You shouldn’t feel responsible. We don’t hate you.”

Alec who appeared next to his sister and smiled at him, a sad look in his eyes. “I’m sorry we have made you feel like you must apologize to us. You have done nothing wrong.”

Isabelle nodded. “This… this is about us. About me. It’s our problem to deal with. It’s not your fault you look like Sebastian or that I was reminded of him.”

Ash’s eyes filled with tears. “Really?” his voice shivered at the end.

“Really,” Isabelle said softly and gently hugged Ash again. “You’re such a nice guy,” she whispered to him. “There is nothing of Sebastian in you that is evil.”

Ash blinked in a try to chase the tears away. He closed his eyes and hugged her tightly.

•

Magnus lied in bed with a deep sign. It was a long day and nothing felt better than the comfort of his home.

The door opened and Alec entered quietly, not to wake up the children in the other room. He started to move into the room, getting ready for sleep. There was something amazing in watching Alec like this. Peaceful and happy. A calm on his face. But Magnus could also see how exhausted he was, even more than him.

“Come here, husband,” he murmured and Alec looked at him and smiled, a soft look in his eyes. He got into bed and leaned against Magnus. Magnus hugged him immediately. He felt how Alec’s body relaxed against his.

“How did it go with Ash today?” he asked, playing with Alec’s hair.

“It was fine,” he said. Magnus could feel his breath in his neck. “Poor kid thought we hated him.”

Magnus chuckled. “You can have this effect on people.”

“Lies,” he could hear the smile in Alec’s voice.

“I’m happy you’re okay now,” he said, gently stroking his head. “I like him. You know I have a soft spot for people with horrible fathers.”

Alec laughed softly. “Don’t worry. We are good.”

Magnus kissed the top of his head. “Good.”

Magnus turned to the lamp and snapped his fingers. The room became dark.

“Sweet dreams, my Alexander,” he whispered. Then smiled. Alec was already asleep.