Title: Contradiction At It's Finest.
Summary: It takes Alec to bleed half to death in the middle of a cathedral to realize his true feelings for the brooding warlock.
Note: The characters and the Shadowhunter world belongs to Cassandra Clare. I am only one of her beloved fans who decided to expand upon her idea, and twist the characters and the plotline into something new. Thus, this still belongs to Cassandra Clare.
Enjoy!
Alec wished he wasn't such a fool.
Sometimes, he dared to wonder, if perhaps it seemed like he wanted to become injured just so a certain flaxen-eyed warlock may heal him. Alec instantly diminished the very thoughts from his mind; his cheeks dusted red.
It's not like he had developed a sudden liking towards the warlock, right?
Wrong.
Very wrong indeed.
Alec winced as pain flared from his abdomen, and his arm was wrapped around his stomach as he tried to endure the pain. Isabelle. his sister, sat next to him in an white folded-chair, a smirk painted upon her features. "What did I tell you?" she sang out, her mouth stretching to a thin, sadistic smile. It vaguely reminded Alec of a tigress. That thought alone made the boy cringe.
"You told me of nothing that I could recall," Alec grumbles, his eyes averting from his younger sister as he took a sudden liking to the bedsheets. Oh, would you look at that! It was a dark shade of midnight black, with a white rune adorned amidst it all. It seemed to match his mood perfectly.
Strength, he read.
Well, it would be great to have some of that at the moment, he thought wistfully.
"Oh, come on, Alec!" Isabelle complains, rolling her eyes as if it wasn't obvious enough. "You totally got injured on purpose just so Magnus could heal you!"
Alec couldn't argue with that. You see, Magnus Bane... was, in itself, extraordinary. He was a warlock that Alec had the honor of encountering at a party he held just a fortnight ago, and ever since then, his thoughts never strayed from the ebony-haired man. If Alec could describe Magnus Bane in one word, it would be elegant. Magnus was the epitome of elegance. Even though he was always cladded in attires that was unthinkable to Alec and a bit bizarre, Magnus had managed to always pull it off. With his black, luscious hair pulled back, you noticed his astonishing eyes almost right away, which always seemed to bother the mundanes.
While many other warlocks were born with strange, elf-like ears or perhaps their skin was the very color of an avatar, Magnus was lucky enough to be born with cat-eyes. His remarkable eyes had set the foundation of who Magnus truly was. Framed by long, dark eyelashes, his golden orbs always reminded Alec of a predator, as if the predator was scrutinizing how he shall torture his meal in every way possible.
"That's—" Alec swallowed a lump forming in his throat, and fought the urge to close his eyes. His eyesight was beginning to dim, and the twinging pain that had surrounded his abdomen for the past half hour had spread towards his legs, and it was beginning to numb. That was never a good sign. Unfortunately, the demon's poison was sinking into Alec's body, and it won't be long before he loses consciousness completely. "—not true," he insisted, yet he sensed it was a lie.
Isabelle's eyes softened as she took in her brother's condition. She decided to let the matter go at the moment and focus on his health and well-being. That was important. "Should I call for Jace?" she asks softly, her voice tinged with hesitation.
It took Alec a moment for him to grasp onto what Isabelle had said. "I—I think he's calling for Magnus, is he not?" His words had begun to slur now, and the lines in between were blurred and was barely audible to the edges of his mind. Instead, it seemed like he had said, "IthinkheiscallingforMagnusishenot?"
Isabelle blinked.
What the hell did he say?
Alec's breathing had grown even deeper, and his eyes had begun to droop. He tried to grasp onto his surroundings, but the pain was too much for him to tolerate. Besides, the poison had long made an appearance to his body, and he only had a short amount of time before his internal organs started to shut down. Alec's deft fingers, which were tightly clasped around Isabelle's wrist had started to loosen.
Before he knew it, he fell into the depths of unconsciousness.
Alec's eyelids fluttered open, and he elicited a groan when the sudden, harsh light nearly blinded him. He shut his eyes once more, and ran a hand through his dirty black locks, untangling the knots and strands in between. He sat up and opened his eyes once again. He figured out that the light was coming from the window adjacent to him. Bright, beaming rays of sunlight peeked in through the lattice-work of the curtains, and with a sudden jolt, he latched onto the fact that it was morning.
What happened to him last night?
He wearily blinked, and couldn't recall the blurry events that dared to tease the walls of his mind. He looked down at himself and saw thick bandages wrapped around his abdomen. Alec pressed his hand against it, but he didn't detect any pain. He was wondering how he could've healed extremely fast, when the door into the room was unlatched with a slight creak, and Magnus Bane simply strode in.
Straightaway, Alec's stomach had turned into mush, and he clenched his fists, his fingernails digging into the soft material of the bed. He bit the inside of his cheek, and the metallic taste of blood that he drew unfazed him whatsoever. His eyes were trained on the warlock with apprehension, astonishment, and in somewhere between, happiness. He couldn't help but feel a bit excited whenever his eyes settled upon the warlock.
Magnus continued to ignore him. Alec watched him quietly as Magnus moved gracefully around the room, his eyes never straying from the warlock once. Magnus pushed the curtains back, tying it with a small cloth to hold the curtains in place as sunlight spilled into the room.
"You're an idiot, you know."
Alec blinked, caught off guard. Magnus's back was facing him, so Alec couldn't see the expression that adorned his features. He couldn't help but let a small scowl settle upon his features. "What?"
"Who in the Angel bleeds half to death in the middle of a cathedral?"
Alec wasn't sure if this was a trick question or not. "Um... me?" he asks confusedly, wincing at how high his voice sounded.
"Yes, of course. Out of all of the shadowhunters that I had to take care of, you were the most foolish one I have ever met for as long as I lived!" Magnus whirled around, his eyes narrowed and his mouth twisted unpleasantly to one side. He continued, "In the last two months, I had been called more than twenty times by your arrogant brother. Each time, my heart would stop and I dearly hoped that the injury you imposed of wasn't fatal. Or worse, dead." He spat the word out like it was something repulsive.
Alec's jaw dropped. "You barely know me."
"It doesn't matter whether I know you or not," Magnus glowered, "it's still the same!"
"I'm sorry," he muttered.
Magnus let a small sigh escape through his lips. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and Alec stiffened almost immediately. Unfortunately, Magnus had caught his actions and frowned in disapproval. "What?" he says dryly.
"Nothing." Alec's face reddened. He averted his eyes away from Magnus's unwavering gaze, and focused his attention on his hands. A thick silence engulfed between the two, and Alec faintly wondered if the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.
His mind drifted towards the man that sat just a few feet away from him. He is, by far, one of the most intuitive people that Alec knew, even if he hadn't known him that well. Somehow, in these past few weeks... Alec had long since accepted that Magnus is a kind different from himself. Magnus wasn't just a warlock, his personality differed drastically from Alec's. Alec seemed to sulk in his room all day and night, and choose to wear clothes that matched his brooding character. On the other side of the spectrum, lies Magnus. He was the splash of color in Alec's monotone life, and whenever Magnus was around, he always seemed to brighten his day.
Alec froze. No, it couldn't be... he couldn't develop a liking towards Magnus. It was preposterous! Yet, his conscious told him otherwise.
He bit his bottom lip consciously, and his hands tightened their hold onto the bedsheet. He wished that Magnus would say something, anything, just to let the awkwardness dissipate. Sadly, Alec wasn't able to swallow his pride, and so he gritted his teeth, and let the unfortunate silence stretch for as long as it could.
And so they sat, like two lovers, in silence.
A/N: Gah! WHAT IS THIS? This is the worst one-shot I have written in the history of one-shots, and that's saying a lot. This seriously depresses me. I was halfway through typing this up when I realized I had no idea where this was going. Too late to change that now, I suppose.
I'M SORRY.
By the way, if you could drop in a review and tell me your opinions about this, it would mean a lot to me. :)
Thank you in advance!
—Esha Ali