Whew. Okay, heads up, y'all. This one's got some SERIOUS ANGST up ahead. It's mostly heartbreak, and my little heart broke while writing this. Aw, poor Will. :(
Also, this story was inspired by this song: "In My Veins" by Andrew Belle. Clever titling, no?
I am definitely NOT Cassie Clare and therefore I do NOT own The Infernal Devices.
Oh, God.
Panic. Sheer, bloody panic. That's all he can feel as he watches Tessa flee from the rooftop, her skirts swaying. He cannot look away. He cannot move. Rooted to the spot by his own shock at his behavior, Will can do nothing but watch as she leaves him - perhaps forever.
And why shouldn't she? He had been nothing but unkind to her. She doesn't deserve him. She deserves so much more than the despicable, miserable mess that had become him.
He is surprised by the vehemence of the pain welling in his chest, as if he had just been stabbed in the heart.
No. He shakes his head wildly, his eyes finally tearing from the empty space where Tessa once stood. He had been stabbed before. The pain now feels so much worse… as if his heart and his lungs are shattering into shards of poisoned glass.
He stumbles, gripping the railing of the rooftop for support. He can barely breathe, this cloud of emotion choking him from the core. He closes his eyes, desperately willing the darkness to take him. But her face is there, behind his eyelids. Her own expression transforms: he watches in horror as her genuine smile is stripped away by his own words. A look of disgust forms her face, replaced quickly with a twinge of fear.
Will whimpers in agony, and the effect is immediate. Pure embarrassment is thrown into the pot of emotions, still bubbling over him venomously, even though there is no one to hear him. Even though he is completely, utterly, alone. He rakes his fingers through his hair in a manner that should be painful, but he is in so much pain that everything is slowly becoming numb.
He doesn't realize he's kneeling until he discovers the tear in his trousers; he must have scraped his knee as he collapsed. He hadn't even realized he had let go of the railing until now.
Will's head bows because he can no longer keep it up. Anger, humiliation, guilt, regret, and pain. Pure, raw, pain. All are connected to Tessa. To Ella, to Charlotte, to Jem. To Tessa.
The rain begins to fall, but Will's face is already wet before the first drop hits the ground.
Someone was standing in front of the fireplace - his hands behind his back. A slender someone with dark hair. When he turned, Magnus recognized him immediately.
William Herondale.
He was, as Archer had said, wet, in the manner of someone who did not care one way or another whether it rained on him or not. His clothes were drenched, his hair hanging in his eyes. Water streaked his face like tears.
"William," Magnus said, honestly surprised. "What on earth are you doing here? Has something happened at the Institute?"
"No." Will's voice sounded as if he were choking. "I'm here on my own account. There is - there is absolutely no one else that I can ask."
- Clockwork Angel, page 475