The next morning, Will was late for breakfast. So late that Jem had actually volunteered to go and check on him. He had been about to leave when Will had entered, with dark shadows under his eyes, his figures pale. His smile was deceptively natural, but fooled only Jessamine, who couldn't be bothered to even look up from her plate to acknowledge him. "Do you feel fine Will? You don't look too well. Could you sleep at all last night?" Charlotte asked, being the mother hen that she was. Will shrugged and said, "Just about," while carefully avoiding looking at Tessa, "But I'm not the only one. Dear James, how late were you up playing your violin, pray tell." Jem chuckled, "Well, I wasn't prowling the corridors at night. And don't tell me you weren't, William, for there is no way you could have heard me from your room." Will raised his hands in defeat. Jem chuckled some more, and spoke no more of the events of the previous night.
Tessa, on the other hand, was curious. Why had Will been wearing down the carpets on the corridors? Even she had had trouble falling asleep and had thought that she'd heard footsteps outside her door, but had been swift to dismiss it as her fanciful imagination. Now, she hoped she had been correct. She really wished it had indeed been Will on the corridor, wanting to enter Jem's room to clear the air between them. It didn't seem like he had though, because the tension hadn't dissipated entirely. But then, if he had neither gone to Jem's room, nor come to hers, then what had he been doing? What could have possessed him?
Tessa was snapped out of her reverie by Jem shaking her shoulder lightly, wry amusement etched into his countenance, "What were you thinking about Tessa?" Charlotte, Henry and Jessamine had left the room and the three of them were the only ones there. Before she could answer him, Will piped up, "Isn't it obvious? She's thinking about me." Tessa's throat dried up. How did he know? Will continued, "We all know that she has been absolutely miserable at keeping to herself away from me." He looked at her now, his lips twisted into a smirk that didn't reach his eyes, "It's alright Tess, I understand." She couldn't believe her ears, couldn't believe that he was actually saying this. Her brow furrowed and her mouth dropped open. Jem, too, was astounded. Clearing his throat, he said, "Now Will, that's taking it a bit too far." Will's smirk only widened, "I don't hear her denying it though. And silence is taken to be the universal sign of agreement, isn't it Tess?"
"You will mind your language when speaking to a lady Will." Jem's voice was quiet, brimming with understated anger.
"Or what Jem?"
"This isn't you. This is not who you are. Why are you sullying your soul by being this vile to Tessa, who is not only a dear friend, but also a guest?"
"Isn't his reason quite evident Jem?" Tessa spoke for the first time since Will's dramatic entrance, "I have told you of his reaction after he found out that I would be staying at the Institute." Will flinched imperceptibly. His eyes held a haunted look for a moment and then, just like that, it was gone. Jem exhaled slowly, "Whatever his reasons, he cannot speak to you, or anyone for that matter, that way. It is unacceptable."
"We both know he's never been one to care about basic niceties. Leave him be." Jem nodded and offered his arm to her, "Let me make it up to you. Come for a walk with me, we have yet to finish acquainting you with London." She took his arm and, together, they left the room and Will.
Will heaved out a sigh. That had been a close call. He had almost caved a couple of times during the interaction. Tessa's disbelieving and disgusted face kept floating in front of his eyes. He flinched again. She had been nothing but sweet and kind to him, always polite, cheerful, calm and wise, quite the opposite of himself. She had a fire, that fact was undeniable. But it was warm and cheery, the kind of flame a kind old man who had never done aby wrong would have in his library. It wasn't like his ire, which raged like an all destroying forest fire. He had disappointed her and Jem. Jem, his sin. The only love he had allowed for, God Lord, five years! The boy in whose eyes alone he had found grace, as he would tell him someday, later. His Parabatai, Jem. Jem, who too felt that he was a repulsive creature. He almost regretted his actions. Almost, but not quite. He kept telling himself that it was the correct thing to do, that it was for the best. He sighed again, before quickly buttering his toast and pouring himself a cup of tea. He'd finish his breakfast fast; there was a certain man he had to meet.