Sydney knew she shouldn't be doing this. This was her third strike. As a shadow hunter there was just certain things you don't do. 1. Don't ever yell at your father (the Consul) in front of the Enclave. 2. Don't push your brother into a tavern filled with werewolves. 3. Don't ever fall in love with a Herondale.
Herondales were nothing but trouble. It was what Sydney had been told her entire life. Her father warned her against them; the Lightwoods had, her brother had. Even William's parabtai, Jem Carstairs had warned Sydney. That really just made her more interested in him. Forbidden boy of the Nephilim? Who wouldn't want him?
Sydney saw the error of her ways now. She saw she should have been more careful. She should have been more careful. She should have been wiser. She should have, but she didn't and she wasn't. She loved William Herondale. That was that. She wondered how long she could stay in the library before someone noticed that she wasn't in the ballroom.
She twisted one of her ink black curls with one of her pale fingers. She sighed, she knew she should be getting back. Charlotte would worry about her. Besides, her fiancé was would worry. At that, Sydney had to scoff. When William Herondale had proposed to her, this past fall, she'd been ecstatic. She thought it was her little miracle getting her dream, her soulmate forever hers. Yet, he hated her.
Or at the very least he didn't love her. She was sentenced to a life with the man she loved, being so close but never loving her. It made her want to sob, to collapse into a puddle of tears, the way Alice had in Alice and Wonderland. She sat on the bench next to the window.
It was snowing, fast, strong and hard. She had always loved snow as a child. She loved how it was so unpredictable. One day it was heavy and thick but other days so light and fluffy; as if it were sugar on powdered cookies. Ryan used to play in the snow with her, back when they were still children. When they were young and carefree, Sydney hated to remember those times.
That was her past, and Ryan was going to stay in her past; he was hers, no one else needed to know about him.
Will wasn't sure what he was expecting, walking in on her in the library. Sydney was a shadow-hunter for the Angel's sake, was it his duty to check on her? He supposed it was, he was her fiancé after all, and she'd looked so lonely; and so sad. It made his insides freeze. He wondered if her heart belonged to another, it would explain how cold she'd been to him since the engagement.
It was maddening, seeing her so unhappy. So distraught and because of him, but Will was a selfish man. He'd never give up Sydney, even if it meant she would be happy. Or so he had thought, but these few months had been torturous for him, knowing she was in pain because of him. He never wanted to hurt anyone ever again, six years of having the "not" curse was bad enough. Now here he was, causing the girl he was in love with more than anything such great pain. This was the worse, worse than anything else he'd ever felt or done.
He was going to have to break it off, he knew that now, he just wasn't happy about it. She always took his breathe away, he noticed as he found her sitting on a bench closet to the window, watching the snow fall. She looked so beautiful, her midnight black curls clustering around her face, as if they were a shield. Then there were her eyes, so bright and green, they reminded him of the rolling hills of home. Those emerald eyes were one me now, analyzing my movements, as if she could see into my core. Into my soul, that she knew things about me, things that even Jem, even I didn't know about myself. She smiled, a half smile, a bitter-sweet smile. A smile of both happiness and sadness hidden behind it. A smile with layers. I knew of those smiles. I used those smiles. She really loved him, that other man. So much it tore her apart.
"Will," she said, caressing his name with her voice, "You didn't have to follow me." He laughs,
"I don't really have a choice in the matter. We're going to be married in the spring, I'll be looking in on you." He says, that was a mistake. Will can see, as her face, pales and her lips tighten. "Do you look after me because you want to? Or because you have to?" she asks, turning to him, she's just so beautiful.
The questions threw Will off, why would she say that?
"Of course, I want to look after you, why wouldn't I?" he asks, reaching for her hand, leaning in. Sydney turned away, frowning "Because you don't love me. Because this engagement wasn't your idea. You just needed someone to marry and Sydney would do just fine." She says in a huff, Will laughs. "Who gave you that ridiculous idea? Was it Henry? Henry doesn't listen, he might have been talking about a machine, or something else. He absorbs the strangest things; he also sets himself on fire. Sometimes on purpose." He said, she looked at him, as if she were trying to see through him "You didn't deny it." She said, sitting back down. He knelt in front of her, taking her hand.
"Sydney Udelhoefin, I William Herondale love you, with and everything I could and can give to you. Besides, I thought you were the one who didn't love me, though the thought is of course nearly impossible. With a face like this, one is always very loved or at least adored." He says with laugh, Sydney raises her head, "You thought I didn't love you? Of course I love you, why else would I have agreed to this marriage? I had plenty of other options, but I loved you." She says, hitting him lightly. Then they laugh at the absurdity of it all, until Will notices that he's standing under a mistletoe. He grabs Sydney around the waist and pulls her close, they're bodies touching. He leans in to kiss her, and Sydney now knows why her father, her brother and the Lightwoods warned her against William Herondale. He was perfect.