Angels and Warriors // A.L

Chapter 27

The sun was setting, my time to decide was drawing to an end and my window of opportunity was closing. On the one hand, maybe this would serve as a barrier to the distraction that feelings create in the Shadowhunter world. On the other hand, I didn't think I could see it through - it wasn't the right thing to do, maybe in his eyes, but not in mine. I knew Jace and Isabelle agreed with me, but none of us could talk any sense into him.

My thoughts wandered to my best memories of us together.

We were comparing our favourite simulations in the training room after he'd shown me how to work them. I'd quickly taken to the wild, hectic situations, loving the challenge and the adrenaline of the unknown - something I would never face in real life as I was not impulsive, but in here, I could face anything, knowing I would come out on top. While Alec was insisting the controlled, specific simulations were better.

We'd just finished a contest, one to see if we could beat the other in their own preferred simulation.

"That nearly bored me to death," I said dramatically, gesturing around as we finished his controlled battle with only five demons. "It was like being stuck in a Victorian woman's novel."

"I'd rather that than being stuck in a telephone box with a panicking gorilla," He grinned, referring to my preferred crazy, unpredictable scenarios.

"Rubbish!" I exclaimed jokingly.

"It was trying to kill me," Alec was terrible at keeping a straight face, his lips were twitching up at the corners and his bright eyes shone in amusement, "It wants to hurt me!"

"That's the point dumb-ass," I teased. 

He pointed to the side of the room that we had faced my simulation and said, "Sickle in the hands of a drunk peasant," Before waving around at his own scene - which we were still standing in - and saying, "Razor blade in the hands of a surgeon." 

I snorted at the comparison and offered my own, "Downton Abbey," I gestured at his choice pretending to yawn, "Breaking Bad," I pointed to my side of the room with an enthusiastic nod.

Alec's grin widened, "Yeah you're right that's crystal meth."

"This is just some iffy weed," I responded cheekily, eyeing our empty battleground.

"No babe, this is fine wine," He held his hands up to his surroundings. Pointing to the other side of the room he added, "That's eight shots of Absinthe."

"And that's what makes mine a party and yours a poetry slam," I was quick to reply, not missing a beat. My tone light and playful.

Alec shook his head, eyes sparkling as he motioned to his site once more, "James Bond specifying his martini to be shaken not stirred," He then waved carelessly at where mine had been, "Begbie in Trainspotting lobbing a pint pot over his shoulder in a night club and starting a bar fight." He finished the sentence complete with actions to go along with it, mimicking throwing something over his shoulder. The comparisons had gotten so ridiculous but so spot on that I finally cracked and my suppressed laughter erupted from me. I had to hold onto Alec's shoulder to steady myself as I was laughing so much. I clutched my sides as a stitch formed and wiped the corners of my eyes theatrically. Alec's laugh was so beautiful and genuine that it made me wish we could have moments like this more often. Just me and him without a care in the world.

A knock on my bedroom door stopped my pacing. I looked over to see Isabelle walking over to me. She sat on my bed and patted the spot beside her. I obliged and took a seat, a little relieved that I could stop my incessant treading.