Thomas sighed deeply, cursing the name of every single deity who hated him so much that he ended up to border patrol with Alastair. It wasn’t that he didn’t like to border patrol, no, he loved the adrenaline rush and the excitement of all it. But border patrol with Alastair Carstairs of all people wasn’t something he was looking forward to. He rubbed his forehead in frustration, the anger was still there and some part, some stupid irrational part, was feeling sorry for Alastair for no absolute reason. He sighed again as he waited for Alastair to show up. Thomas had arrived prior to the assigned time to sort his thoughts out, which he realized was necessary. As if the thought had somehow summoned Alastair, he saw a lean figure in gear, who could only be Alastair.
“Finally,” Thomas greeted dryly, “I thought you weren’t going to show up.”
Alastair looked as if he wanted to say something, his eyes held some emotion Thomas couldn’t guess, but he thought better and just nodded and pushed a lock of dark ebony hair out of his eyes and finally replied, his voice low, “I wasn’t the one who arrived an hour before the assigned time.”
Thomas flushed red in embarrassment before muttering, “Just come along,” and walked ahead of Alastair, leaving him to follow. Thomas might have turned around to check to see if Alastair was coming or not if he didn’t know for fact that Alastair loved hunting demons as much as he did. Wait, how did he know that? He was confused, he didn’t know him that well. But he just shrugged it off and glanced at Alastair quickly. Alastair seemed to be lost in his thoughts, his black eyes glittering in the dark. Thomas averted his gaze before Alastair would catch him staring.
Thomas wasn’t sure how he felt about Alastair following him. All his time in academy, he was the one following him and now it was the other way around. Alastair, it seemed, wasn’t interested in making small talks and Thomas was glad. He was afraid he’d have to talk to him and every time that happened, he always ended up making a fool of himself.
“I thought it was Ariadne who had a border patrol with me initially,” Thomas heard himself say and almost smacked himself upside down on the head. He didn’t want to have a conversation, yet here he was talking.
“She isn’t well,” Alastair explained, “I volunteered to take her place.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you were friends.” Thomas said stupidly.
“I would’ve done it even if we weren’t friends,” Alastair murmured as if he didn’t want to tell Thomas. Thomas felt disappointed, he wanted to know more about Alastair for a reason and it scared him.
Thomas didn’t reply. Actually, he didn’t know what to say. So he just kept quiet and increased his pace. He could hear Alastair muttering something incoherent behind him before he said loudly, “Not everyone is as tall as you are Lightwood.”
Thomas stopped, realizing his mistake. He turned towards him, guilt evident in his eyes, “I’m sorry.”
Alastair just shrugged and walked beside Thomas, his chin high and his face more angular in the moonlight. Thomas was fascinated despite himself. He gulped hard and walked along. Last thing he wanted was illicit thoughts about Alastair. The silence that followed was definitely an uncomfortable one. Thomas found himself trying to make small conversations to which Alastair would always respond softly. But nothing more so Thomas decided it was better to stay quiet and get done with their work.
That was, until Alastair said, “I’m sorry, for what I said. I know you will not forgive me- and rightly so. But I do owe you an apology.”
Thomas turned away, not entirely sure how to respond. So he just said, “I suppose.”
Alastair’s eyes flashed, “I am serious.”
“I am not sure what to say Alastair,” Thomas said, “I should hate you.”
“Then hate me,” Alastair went on, “Hate me for all I care but don’t ignore me.”
They had reached a dark alley and had unconsciously stopped, talking.
“I have never in may life seen a person who insists to be hated,” Thomas replied, noticing a sheer vulnerability in Alastair’s eyes which had not been a few moments ago.
“Then you haven’t met someone as regretful as I.” An honest remark.
“I suppose I haven’t,” Thomas said, finding it hard to breathe for some reason.
“I do mean it. The apology.” Alastair elaborated.
“Do you, really?” Thomas was surprised at the boldness of the words, yet soft.
Alastair looked up, surprised. Thomas continued, “You would not have said the words in the first place if you did not want to hurt Matthew, hurt me.”
“Believe me,” Alastair’s voice cracked as he said, “I did not mean any of it.”
“How can I believe you? I want to, I really do. But I can not. I thought we were friends, after Paris. But I suppose I was wrong.”
Alastair gulped, “Please-”
“No, no. What is done, is done. All you do is hurt people. Hurt anyone who loves you or cares about you.”
“No- Please, I- I don’t want to-”
“You hurt everyone Alastair, You hurt people so much,” Thomas regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, yet he couldn’t quite take them back. “You push everyone away, at this rate I am wondering if you even know what love feels like.”
Alastair stumbled back, Thomas’ words repeating in his head. He found it so hard to stand on his own. He hardly felt anything as his back hit the hard wall. I am wondering if you even know what love feels like. I am wondering if you even know what love feels like. I am wonderi-
Did he know what love felt like? Did he? His breathing hitched, but he couldn’t hear anything except for his thoughts.
He loved his mother, his sweet mother who did not show affection whatsoever. Who had asked Alastair to take the burden of Elias when he was 10. But he didn’t blame her. As long as it saved Cordelia from suffering, he would do it again.
Layla, yes, she was perhaps the reason he was actually living, after surviving for so long, spending time with Cordelia was the only thing helping him move on. Yet, he had pushed her away for so long. So long, he had almost forgotten her hugs. Almost.
He could hear Thomas saying something, faintly but he couldn’t hear him. It was getting hard and harder to breathe.
Charles, yes he had loved him. But did Charles really love him? Did he really get anything in return? Did he get the love he desperately wanted-needed-in return? Perhaps, but not enough. Perhaps that was the reason he had replaced them so easily.
He loved his father too. He loved him, tha was why he cleaned the mess but he detested what he had done to himself.
His nails dug in his palms as he took a deep breath, he couldn’t breathe. It was like he was submerged in water, he was drowning. Drowning in his thoughts and echoes and there was nothing to save him.
“Alastair breathe. I am sorry! I-It slipped out of my mouth!” He could hear panicked voice of Thomas- Thomas Lightwood. Was that his imagination too?
“Thomas?” He gasped out, his hand shook as he extended his hand, his eyes squeezing more and more with each passing second.
“Yes! Yes, breathe. I am here with you.” He felt someone hold his extended hand, someone solid. Alastair opened his eyes, slowly, scared to see blurry water around him. It was all black for a moment but then he did see a blurry figure. Thomas, He almost sighed in relief.
He tried to slow his breathing down, and clutching Thomas’ hand like a lifeline was making it easier somehow.
He could faintly hear Thomas saying he was sorry, but all he could do was breathe air, fresh air again. Somehow, Thomas had pulled him out of the trance, had saved him from drowning in his own thoughts.
I apologize in advance, I am still learning how to write grief scenes properly. I do hope that it lived up till your expectations though….I know Alastair’s pov is quite short but it was necessary for whatever I’ve written.
Tagging @herondale-anxiety @purplebass @cecilyfightwood @the-last-hours-shrine-deactivat @thomaslightwood @ghostjessesgirl @liviablackthorns @truth-lies-hidden @sarcasticmalecfan @evelyns @cordeliacarstairs1989 @shadowhuntersshadow-world @ariadnebridgestock-lightwood @hazelgoldensnitch @dil-toh-pagal-hai @tsccreatorsnet
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