There were times when he felt lonely, even when surrounded by his family.
When he felt like there was no one in the whole entire world who could understand how he felt, and even more like there was no one he could talk to. He knew that they would resent him if he confessed his true feelings, that they would never look the same at him. His parents would disown him, Jace wouldn't want to be his parabatai anymore.
Sometimes he thought about telling them, about just letting it all out and being free, but then he'd remember what would happen, and go back to just ignoring it.
Most days that works out perfectly for him. He has his routines, every day planned out - training and lessons in the morning, lunch and then some more training and then missions in the evening, when the sun went down and a myriad of creatures came out to play. All planned out and executed over years and years of days following that exact pattern, but now all of that was messed up and forgotten, ever since that little girl had stumbled into their lives.
Alec couldn't for the live of him understand what Jace saw in the stubborn red head that messed everything up and put them all in danger with her absolute lack of knowledge and disregard about their world and their customs. She was a distraction and a menace and would get the all killed. He wasn't even sure if they should really trust her. No one could argue that the circumstances that let to their meeting were more than a little suspicious.
Deep down he knew that it wasn't really the girl's fault, not that he'd ever admit that. But he hated the way Jace looked at her, the way she commanded Jace's attention and the way Jace always seemed to forget about him and Isabelle whenever Clary was near.
And there it was again. It seemed like lately every single thought would inevitable lead to Jace in the end. And Jace's infatuation with a girl. An infatuation that would never be directed at him.
He didn't even know where Jace was right now. Probably out and about with the little girl, because he just couldn't resist her.
He huffed and got up from his bed. He was pathetic, wallowing in his self pity like a teenage girl.
He was a warrior, damn it. He wasn't supposed to be ruled by feelings and emotions. So why, why was he so hung up about a guy he'd never ever have a chance with?
Angry at himself and Jace and the world in general, he made his way to the training room. Not really knowing what he was going to do once there. Maybe he wanted to punish himself, or maybe he just figured he might as well train. In this moment the world just was a haze around him, he felt numb and the training room was at the heart and center of his daily routines, so maybe he even thought he could find order and normalcy there.
What he actually did find there was a punching bag already strung up on a hook, and without a second thought, he went up to it and started hitting at it with all his strength, a punch for every unwelcome thought that crossed his mind.
The feeling of intimacy whenever Jace and he runed each other up before going out hunting.
Punch.
His heart sinking every time Jace just dismissed it with a slap on his shoulder and that trademark smirk of his.
Punch.
Punch.
His failure as a shadowhunter, because out of his siblings he was the eldest and yet the only one who hadn't ever killed a demon.
Punch.
The disappointment he'll be to his parents and the whole clave when they find out about his inclination for boys.
Punch
Punch Punch
His heart speeding up whenever Jace smiles in that special unguarded way he only ever let Izzy and himself see. A smile he'd never see again if he told them the truth about himself.
Punch
Punch
The wish that Jace would give him his undivided attention again, the way he did before Clary came.
Punch.
Clary in general, messing everything up.
Punch
Punch
His inability to just ignore what was wrong with him.
Punch
It felt good to let it all out, to once in a while acknowledge even just to himself that he is different and will probably never be able to really be himself. He got so lost in the downward spiral that was his thoughts, that he didn't even notice the tears pooling in his eyes and sliding down his cheeks. Or maybe he did feel it and just pretended it was sweat. He was good at pretending at least.
I know, I haven't updated my other story and ages and here I am writing my first OS for the mortal instruments.
Still, tell me what you think! :)