Oceans Away

Chapter Two

         The air of the large, stone-walled room was cold and was shrouded in darkness. The lights were dim, Rosalie had to squint in order to see things clearly. She was no longer in the Dark House, but the question now was where is she? She remembered next to nothing of her escape, everything flashed by in a series of brief, vague images. The one thing she could recall better than all else was him. His deep blue eyes, his dark curls that clung to his forehead. Everything about Mr. Herondale was enticing, the fact that he saved her life only furthered that. It was an odd feeling... being so taken with someone she had just met. It was foolish, she knew that much. But she could not deny the way her heart fluttered when she thought of him.
A few short knocks on the door broke the bruised girl from her pitiful thoughts, and she quietly called for whoever was outside to enter. Rosalie nearly leapt out of her skin at the sight of Mr. Herondale leaning in the doorway. His face gave no indication of what he felt, it almost looked as though he felt nothing at all. "Mr. Herondale-"
"Will."
"Pardon?" Rosalie asked, her eyebrows furrowing.
"Everyone calls me Will." he said from his place in the door, his blue eyes glistening in the dim light.
She merely stared at him, dumbfounded. Calling him by his Christian name was improper. Being alone with him like this was improper. "Mr.Herondale, I do not believe I should call you by your Christian name."
"Well, Miss. Gray," he chuckled lightly, "Shadowhunters do not have Christian names."
Even his laugh is beautiful. How could one person be so utterly breathtaking? It hardly seemed fair.
"I'm afraid I don't know what that means." she said after a moment, her eyebrows furrowed. "What is a Shadowhunter?"

         Will Herondale sat in one of the chairs inside Miss Gray's bedroom, silently taking in the look of confusion displayed upon her delicate face. She was incredibly beautiful, however ashamed he was to admit it, that much was undeniable. She had yet to speak, every time he thought her melodic voice was going to fill the air... she would close her mouth again.
As Will waited for her to process everything she had just heard, he allowed himself to peer more closely; allowed himself to analyze her. Dried blood coated her chin, and a series of darkly colored bruises littered her face- and surely other parts of her as well. She had suffered a great deal during her time with the Dark Sisters. It was hard to imagine such a pretty girl enduring such violence.
"So..." her gentle voice murmured, "you're an angel."
"Partly." Will nodded, forcing himself to remain stone-faced. It always hurt having to pretend like he didn't care for anyone, but it was the only way to protect them. He couldn't bear to allow anyone to die for love. So, he was forced to push them all away, make it impossible to love him.
"And you protect the human world from demons." she didn't phrase it as a question, it seemed as though she were running through facts- making sure she understood clearly.
"Yes." Will nodded once more and leaned forward in his chair, placing his elbows on his knees.
"And this is the Institute." as she said it, her gray eyes parted from him to gaze curiously around the room. Will couldn't help but watch her; he couldn't help but examine her face as her eyebrows knitted together as she looked over an art piece hung neatly on the wall. It was one of many pieces in the Institute that featured the angel Raziel. Will quickly averted his gaze toward the window when she had turned back to him. "Thank you, Mr. Herondale- I mean Will."
He turned away from the window with a confused look. "And what exactly am I being thanked for, Miss Gray?"
"Saving my life for starters." the faintest hint of a smile crossed over her face. It was a sad smile, Will thought, she looked as though she could cry. "And for teaching me about what it is you do, I find it all very fascinating." she added on, her light eyes connecting with his. There was that familiar rush of heat in her cheeks as they gazed at one another; it had happened almost every time she looked at him.
"It is my job." Will shrugged her off. "There are no thanks necessary."
Rosalie forced herself to look out the window as a frown covered her lips. She didn't know why his rejection stung her, but it had. There was no reason that she should feel this way over someone she had just met; it was incredibly stupid of her. And Rosalie was not a stupid girl. "You wouldn't happen to know where my things are, would you?" she asked without looking at him.
"I believe they should be arriving shortly; Charlotte is having them washed for you." Will said. He could see that he had upset her, and he wished he could remedy it. But he knew he couldn't. He had to treat her like he did everyone else, perhaps worse than the others. The constant flood of color to her cheeks betrayed her, so he would do what he must to keep her alive. No one else would die because of him. "Miss Gray?"
Her eyes peeled away from the window begrudgingly. "Yes?"
"Why is it that you have all of your belongings, yet your sister has none?"
"Truthfully?" she sighed lightly, "I haven't the faintest idea... those wretched sisters said they had sent our things ahead, but only mine arrived at the house." her voice cracked faintly, and it once again looked like she was battling back her tears. The look on her face as she spoke of the Dark Sisters and their home was haunting; all color seemed to drain from her face, giving her a ghostly glow under the witchlight. "I tried to give Tessa some of my dresses, you know." her voice had grown distant, and it almost felt as if she were drifting away. "Not that they would fit her. She is a great deal taller than I am; but every dress I snuck to her was promptly discovered and taken away."
Will said nothing as she spoke, he merely sat back in his chair and listened. He would not have known what to say to her, so it seemed best to remain silent. Jem had always been better at consoling people; it is just one of his many talents.