Cordelia did not know if it was very late in the night, or early in the morning, but the darkness frightened her. Taking a deep breath, she looked out towards the balcony, it's glass doors covered by light drapes. Looking over her shoulder at her parabatai's sleeping figure, a whirlwind of thoughts came into Cordelia's mind. Lucie's face was calm, her eyes closed gently, lips slightly parted. She looked at peace, and it made Cordelia's heart swell with happiness. She could only wish for Lucie to be like this, for her mind not to be troubled. It helped Cordelia not focus on her own dreadful problems. James.
Standing up abruptly, she pinched her arm and repressed the urge to squeal from the pain. No, she told herself firmly, You will not think of him. But even her own restrictions could not stop her eyes flooding with the sight of his amber eyes that were like the brightest gold of her mother's jewelry, the charcoal black hair that made her hands itch to run through it, the little smile that he made when he was truly happy, or amused. The smile that had not come out since Grace rejected him months ago. The smile that she yearned to bring back.
The pain hit her like a blow, making her chest feel tight. But she couldn't stop the it in her heart, no matter how many times she pinched her arms, or reprimanded herself. She couldn't stop herself.
Cordelia took one last look at her parabatai, and walked lightly to the door, taking care for the doorknob not to squeak as she twisted it. A small smile came upon her face, thinking about how Lucy would joke that the rusty doorknob was there so that they could always be warned when a prince would come in and sweep her off her feet, and carry her back to beautiful, gilded palaces. She was reading too many romance novels, Cordelia thought, but it made her the loveable Lucie she was. So dreamy, so happy in life, so content.
Until tonight, Cordelia thought, and the smile disappeared from her face as she slipped out of the room, and closed the door quietly. Taking small steps down the hallway that was only dimly lit by flickering lights, Cordelia remembered the state of Lucie as she ran into the room as if the devil was chasing her. Sobbing, she threw herself down onto Cordelia's lap and wept for hours. No matter how many times she tried to ask Lucie what happened, and whatever was the matter with her, Lucie would shake her head, and continue to cry, with Cordelia gently taking out the pins in her already disheveled hair, until the agony-ridden sobs turned to peaceful sleep, with Cordelia feeling every moment. Thinking about it now, anger welled up inside of her for whoever had done that to Lucie. The fierce protectiveness of her parabatai was inconvenient sometimes, but it wasn't without reason, especially now. Without even thinking, Cordelia realised she was standing in the middle of the hall, too caught up in her silent rage to move. How silly, she thought, and stepped forward, but paused. A sound registered in her sharp Shadowhunter ears. It was a voice, too deep to be female. Frozen in place, Cordelia suddenly thought how embarrassing it would be encounter one of the male inhabitants of the Institute. During her lengthy stay here, she had been acquainted with everyone and was no long awkward around male company, but just the though Mr. Herondale, Lucie, and James' father see her in nothing but a nightgown, not even her dressing gown on to protect her in the dead of night made Cordelia's cheeks burn.
The voice continued, but Cordelia sensed whoever was talking was down the hall. Turning to go back to her room, a strong curiosity suddenly took hold of her, and without even knowing what she was doing, moved swiftly to the end of the hall towards a door slightly ajar. Her hands were trembling as she took hold of it, and opened it to a sight she wouldn't have dreamed of.
It was James, in all of his glory. The shock of black hair on his head was rumpled and sticking out in alien ways, his back turned from Cordelia and hunched over something. But the noise of the door made him whip around with the speed only a Shadowhunter could possess. Cordelia breathed in sharply at the sight of his golden eyes, and beautiful, lovely face that was haunted by the dark crescents beneath his eyes, and not even a whisper of a smile.
"Cordelia?" he said, his voice low and quiet. She was too shocked to answer, only leaning against the doorframe for support. She supposed she looked quite ignorant standing there with her mouth gaping open. But James didn't seem to notice, his eyes only seeing hers, their gaze steady and unwavering. "Daisy?' he said again, and Cordelia couldn't stop herself. She rushed across the room and caught hold of his face, his cheek warm in her hand. James seemed startled but didn't move away, and Cordelia snatched her hand away from his face, not able to believe what she had just done, barely even noticing how James' eyes were running up and down her body in it's shapeless nightgown. "James," she managed "Why- what are you doing?" James chuckled, but slowly. "Honestly, I am trying to think of what quite possessed me so that I ended up here." He lifted his hand to run it across the mantlepiece, his slim, scarred fingers skimming lightly across its dusty surface. "Nobody has been in here for ages, Daisy." Daisy, Cordelia thought, feeling quite lightheaded at the childhood name that James still managed to remember. Daisy...