A shortage of reading material was not something that Tessa Gray often found herself experiencing.
As a former New Yorker, she'd made a faithful trip to the library three times a week to see what they had in stock, even though she'd usually end up rereading the same novels over and over again. But Tessa didn't mind.
But not having anything to read, that was a different story entirely.
Of course, there was always a certain-dark haired someone that she could go to for books, but with the way Will had been acting lately, she very much doubted that she'd want to be in debt to him at all.
Her stomach clenched painfully at the thought of what had transpired between the two of them just a few nights before. The look in his ever-darkening blue eyes as he discarded her, treating her as if she was no better than a prostitute off of the street, seeking nothing more than a few pennies.
Tessa set her jaw and drove the thoughts from her mind.
She was on her way to the Institute's library for yet another time that week, more out of boredom than actual curiosity. If nothing else, Tessa enjoyed sitting in the worn, red armchair by the fireplace, caught up in staring at the seemingly endless supply of books in their different foreign languages and texts that told of things that only the Angel knew about.
The thought of the texts brightened her mood, and she quickened her pace down to the library, moving quickly past tapestries and old paintings of the angel Raziel and his mortal instruments.
Sooner than she would have thought, Tessa stood before the large, oak doors of the library. Without hesitating, she pushed one of them open.
And almost turned back around.
William Herondale himself was sprawled in the accompanying armchair on the opposite side of the fireplace, his face illuminated in the flames.
Tessa wished there was something that she could do to stop the fluttering of her heartbeat when she laid eyes on him, but no matter how many times she looked at him, the feeling never went away. In fact, it only seemed to worsen as time went on.
He was still handsome; high cheekbones that tapered into a strong jaw, and the blackest hair that Tessa had ever seen, curling a little and untidy, just as it always was. His eyes, deep, blue eyes the color of the Atlantic Ocean in summertime, were lost in the flame. His expression was completely frozen until she made a noise of some sort, and then something in his gaze seemed to shift itself as he turned towards her.
"Rather dreary afternoon, isn't it?"
Tessa shot him a look, though she knew that he would keep badgering her if she remained silent.
"Yes." She said, her tone clipped. "But it always is, isn't it?"
Will smirked. "Yes. I suppose it is."
And that seemed to be the extent of the conversation.
Tessa decided that she simply could not leave now, for Will would see right through it and see that she was weak; too weak to be in the same room as someone who had insulted her. Tessa wrinkled her nose at the thought. She could handle herself.
Straightening up, she walked over to the nearest bookshelf, eyes scanning over the titles as she worked to studiously ignore Will, whose eyes she could feel on her.
Tessa decided that this had to be one of the most uncomfortable experiences of her life. After what had transpired between the two of them on the roof a few days ago, she'd been working to stay out of his way. But now, it seemed as if her attempts had all been in vain.
"You should try reading some poetry, Tess." Will said from behind her. "I believe you would enjoy it."
"What makes you say that?"
She could almost see him lift a shoulder. "I just know you would."
"You don't know anything about me." Tessa snapped.
"As it happens," Will said from suspiciously close by. "I do."
She turned, only to find him much closer than she could have anticipated. A mere six inches, and then they would be touching.
His eyes were dark, but there seemed to be something almost sad in them, more pronounced than Tessa had seen it before. Something in her wanted to say words that would bring comfort, but she stopped herself.
Will Herondale was never sad.
"You have to stop this," she whispered, her voice so quiet that she could barely hear herself. "Don't tease me the way you have been."
Will swallowed, his throat bobbing with the movement. "You don't think that I've tried to stop?" He asked, his voice just as hushed. "I have. Time and time again."
Tessa didn't want to believe him. She despised the effect he had on her, even though he had made his feelings on a relationship of any sort between them clear as crystal. And yet. . .she still stood here, listening for whatever he had to say next.
His eyes were sorrowful as he reached out and twined a strand of her hair around his finger. "Forgive me, Tessa. Please, forgive me."
She opened her mouth to say something in response to this, to gain some distance between the two of them, to go back to acting as they both had been acting, she found that much more preferable to how he was acting now. Will was unpredictable as he was, she had no idea what he was going to do next.
Tessa was about to ask him what she was forgiving him for, when she felt the light pressure of his lips on her forehead. And, for a moment, she couldn't seem to breathe.
It felt like hours, but surely must have been only moments, as Will pulled away, and, without looking at her, turned on his heel and left the room.
For a moment she had been unable to believe it, even if the events had been so clearly tucked away inside of her mind, never for her to forget them.
The next time she saw Will, he acted no different than how he had been, and Tessa wondered if it really had been a dream, if there had never been a day that she had gone to visit the Institute's library, and perhaps it had all been inside of her head.
But it seemed as if Will's kiss had been something more wonderful than her mind could have ever conjured up.
So this was a little one-shot between two of my favorite fictional characters ever, and I hope you guys all enjoyed it!