Work Text:
“Kit.”
No response.
“Christopher.”
Silence.
“Christopher Lightwood!” Grace says, her voice laced with annoyance, her tone dangerously low.
Christopher finally looks up from his papers. He blinks with surprise at the figure hovering at the doorway that is Grace, crossed-armed with a stern look on her face.
"Grace?" he asks, taking his protection spectacles off. "Why have you returned so soon?"
She stares at him incredulously. The anger in her voice vanishes as she spots the black bags under Christopher's eyes. Concern takes its place. "Soon? Christopher, I was off since yesterday."
His lavender eyes are full of wonder. He glances at his experiment, then his hands, then back at Grace. "But - not far ago, you've left to Jesse and Lucie's loft."
"Angel, Kit. How long have you been here all by yourself?" Grace demands. "No one came to check on you?"
"They all have their own affairs to tend to. Regardless, I haven't noticed how time flew by." He explains dismissively. However, he averts her fierce gaze, picking up a receptacle. "I've been consumed by work, and I'm on the verge of a breakthrough-"
Grace cuts him off. "Have you taken any rest since I left?"
Christopher stays silent. She steps forward until she is next to him near the table.
"You've been locked up in the lab for over a day, kit," she sighs and pushes back a few bright strands that escaped her hairdo.
He looks exhausted, she notes. It gratified her immensely to see Christopher do what he loves, but she wished he wouldn't be so forgetful about his own needs. Thomas and Grace often accompanied him in the lab to watch over the laboratory. However, they also were there to remind Christopher to take care of himself when he got too immersed in his work.
"I'm on the verge of a breakthrough," he repeats. The desk is full of papers with equations, notes, and instructions all over. There's also a forgotten piece of Shepherd’s Pie. He gestures in its direction as if to prove his saying.
She lifts a gloved hand up to guide Christopher's hand away from the receptacle. "And it could wait for later. You've been overstraining yourself."
"No, no," Christopher insists, his voice slightly raspy. His hand rests on his lap now, and his eyes fixed on Grace's grey ones. "I can handle this."
"Aren't your parents worried you wouldn't come home at night?" she tries to reason with him.
The boy shakes his head. "Matthew's old room is available to me," he tells her. "I stay here at night some of the days. They're used to it."
"You ought to rest," she chides him gently, stern but not unkind.
Christopher frowns and looks away, absorbed in his own thoughts. "I will. I must finish this first. I can't - I can't get it right. Maybe if I examine the papers once more-"
"Kit, listen to me," when his eyes locked on hers, she goes on, "You seem thoroughly drained, I am certain a well-needed rest would be of help. Besides, A good night sleep will aid you to have a fresh point of view on your experiment," she adds the last part quickly, knowing he'd be more inclined to agree to this line of reason.
There is a long pause before Christopher speaks again.
"Alright."
He sighs in defeat, but there's no heat behind when he smiles at her. She beams in triumph. He discards his protection spectacles and lab coat on a nearby chair, and swiftly enough they are out of the laboratory and up the ground floor.
"Let me escort you out," he offers, and Grace accepts.
They walk side by side out of the Fairchild's residence. They've done it many times before, and it always gives her a fuzzy feeling inside knowing Christopher cares for her, that he finds her deserving his affection. Christopher was too good of a person for someone like Grace. That is what she always thinks. Christopher, however, keeps telling her she's good, so good that stars in the night sky are pale compared to her brightness.
When Grace looks up to the endless darkness above her, she sees no stars in the heavens.
"There are days I miss Alicante," she babbles, not knowing why she talks at all, as they walk in the pathway to the mansion's gates, "And the Blackthorn manor. It holds many bad memories of mine, and yet..." she hesitates and glances at Christopher. His eyes are tender as he looks at her, warm and appreciative. "I would look out the window and see the stars, bright and comforting. Now I see none."
That was true. London's polluted air, combined with the perpetual light from the road lamps and the city, made it hard to see stars in the middle of London.
"Wasn't the sight from Chiswick house well enough?" Christopher inquires, regarding her former residence at the outskirts of London. He seems tired but attentive.
"Yes, but not as much as in Idris." she reaches her hand forward, letting it flow in invisible paths. Her mouth twists to a ghost of a smile. "The air is clean and fresh. The stars dance in their eternal melody. It's not much of my interest now, but back in those days, Jesse used to tell me about the stars."
At nights, Jesse used to sneak to her room and teach her about constellations or try to count all the stars they could see. He pointed at Polaris for her and told her stories of myths and legends hiding in the stars. When they strode in the gardens of the blackthorn manor, with the wind in their hair and the smell of spring, and her brother lifted her in the air to try and capture a star in her hand.
It's chilly outside, and Grace shudders slightly. Christopher notices and shrugs off his jacket before putting it on her shoulders.
"Aren't you cold?"
Christopher pushes his spectacles up his nose, "You need it more than I do. Keep it."
Grace smiles faintly. Christopher raises his hands, like he doesn't know what to do with them, then lets them fall limp to his sides.
Grace extends her hand and interwinds their fingers together.
They reach the gates, and both halt in their place, turning to each other. Grace turns to look at Christopher. "Thank you for escorting me, Kit. Good night."
The Blackthorn carriage stands near the gates, waiting in front of the house. She let loose of his hand and takes two steps toward it before Christopher's voice stops her.
"Grace!"
She spins around with a bewildered look on her face. "Kit?"
He closes the distance between them and wraps her in an embrace. Grace is stunned by this show of affection, so much as she almost forgets to hug Christopher back. "Perhaps we should visit Royal Observatory in Greenwich. Together," he suggests quickly, cheeks tinted pink, and not because of the cold. "We can seek for the stars your brother and yourself watched back then."
Graces drew away, just slightly, to look Christopher in the eye. "This place is close for visitors."
The grin Christopher gives her causes butterflies to flutter around in her stomach. "This law has never stopped me before."
She gasps at him, and he laughs a tired laugh, reminding her he hasn't taken a rest for over 24 hours. "Consider it my thanks for coming all way here and taking care of me." They break from the hug. "So, what do you say?"
He rubs his hand together in front of him, with a hopeful glint in his eyes. It melts Grace from the inside to see him looking at her this way.
She plants a kiss on the corner of Christopher's mouth before starting for the carriage. She doesn't turn to astonished Christopher until she's on the steps of the carriage. "Yes!"
The moon illuminates them in a soft glow, washing Christopher in silver. His eyes are sparkling with content and love, and Grace finds herself mimicking the smile tugging at her fiancé's lips.
Because even if she couldn't see the ocean of shining lights from her window anymore, she had something else to brighten her life.