Chapter Text
There was a moment, an instant, a split second in which time seemed to pause, freeze, stop flowing.
A moment that forcefully dissociated itself from the timeline in which it was located, breaking the hinges that kept it attached to other events and projecting itself into a forbidden and utopian reality, beautiful and unacceptable, which didn't care about circumstances and basked in an existence aware of its own transience.
It was a scene enclosed in the blink of an eye: it was him who eliminated every physical barrier between their bodies and indulged that whirlwind of impetuous passion and unstoppable desire, dominated by an irrational lust which cruelly subjected all its victims, depriving them of any way of escape and destroying any attempt to flee.
Overwhelmed by the surprise of the chimerical moment, Alec found himself a prisoner of vexatious hands and ravenous lips, deprived of the capacity for rebellion.
They had sunk into a universe of shared pleasure and contrasting wills: because if one was indulging in the most sinful satisfaction, the other was not ready to play deaf to the motivations that should have exerted a deterrent power over that old and ineluctable attraction.
«Come back to me.»
A phrase so loving that it clashed between the notes of the quarrel that still vibrated between their bodies. An implicit prayer to put aside those thoughts so wrong – even if so right – and focus on him, on them, on that moment they both imagined and never thought would come true. Never would they have believed they could feel such strong emotions, capable of settling under their skin and threatening their rationality with such ruthlessness, turning them into puppets in the grip of an all-encompassing ardor.
What neither of them could know was that the flame of passion had created an illusionistic play of shadows on their perceptions, that that muffled bubble in which they were hiding was neither invisible nor unreachable.
They could not know that their recklessness would be their doom.
The devil makes pots but not lids.
(Truth will out.)
Chapter 1 – An Ill-concealed Secret
A light rain fell silently in the dawn’s warmth, gently pushed by a breeze which seemed to mitigate the heat that had reached New York with the arrival of the summer season.
Gusts of fresh air crossed the windows of the big penthouse on the Fifth Avenue, cooling the room surrounded by the gloom and leading Alec to curl up on himself. With his eyes still closed and his mind at the mercy of sleep, he willingly accepted the warm body that hugged him, crouching in arms which offered him a temporary relief.
He felt Ralf's hand, whose hardened body didn't let itself be scratched by a few degrees Celsius less, rubbing his bare back to infuse him with further warmth.
Alec loved those moments, when everything seemed suspended, crystallized in its most beautiful – most authentic form.
Microscopic grains of dust and pollen danced slowly in the air, appearing and disappearing in the play of shadows created by the feeble rays of the sun that was about to come up under the leaden sky of Manhattan. Everything seemed pervaded by a serenity that gave him the highest state of fullness of the soul – and perhaps Alec had an ancient spirit, but he believed that there was nothing more poetic than being able to admire the awakening of a new day.
He felt Ralf's nose sinking into his hair, inhaling that fragrance that he claimed to love but couldn't recognize: the shampoo bottle bore no label and Alec was extremely amused by his attempts to guess which the base element of his perfume was. Alec could have told him that it was sandalwood, but he saw no reason to deprive himself of the opportunity to have Ralf's face constantly attached to his own.
Alec ran his knuckles over the man’s abdomen next to him, in a distracted caress that was enough to warn Ralf of his imminent awakening. He smiled when he felt the other man’s lips leave a wet kiss on his forehead, but he postponed meeting Ralf’s gaze for a few more minutes, taking refuge in the crook of his neck and bringing his arm around his torso, giving him a dose of fondness that he knew would cheer Ralf up.
It's just that that – that poetic moment – was the only one of the day in which Alec hadn't yet put up his walls, in which his defenses were low and he allowed himself a little of that human warmth which, when he was awake, continued to make him tremendously uncomfortable. Only in the stillness of the morning, in the arms of those who accepted his sentimental reluctance, Alec felt free to show his most vulnerable – most authentic – side.
Even with Ralf, although they were in a stable relationship, there were days when he found it difficult to ignore his aversion to any form of romanticism, finding himself making a series of gestures dictated more by the need to reassure his partner about the truthfulness of his feelings than by a desire to satisfy a need for tenderness. Lately, then, oppressed by a growing disturbance at what he continued to keep silent about, he felt compelled to show Ralf his love.
«Coffee» was the first word to leave Alec's lips, followed by a kiss to Ralf's jaw.
The man stroked his dark hair, then brought a finger under Alec’s chin to encourage him to lift his head «Good morning to you too» he muttered in a still sleepy voice.
The boy mumbled what seemed to be a greeting, yawning loudly before repeating «Coffee», implying an implicit command.
Ralf raised an eyebrow and Alec knew he was about to mock his caffeine addiction. But Ralf, contrary to his predictions, didn't speak: he remained silent, his brown forelock dashed with grizzled reflections falling disorderly on his forehead and his almost transparent green irises peering intently at him.
Alec was aware of his boyfriend's intentions, of the attempt to penetrate that veneer behind which he had hidden his own turmoil, but Alec's blue eyes were used to becoming indecipherable when they had a secret to keep safe.
Moved either by the awareness that he had to resign himself to his doubts or by the faith that his boyfriend would never lie to him, the hard features of Ralf's face slowly began to relax, until they opened into a smile that managed to make even Alec relax.
«How do I tell you we've run out of coffee without having a fit?» he asked, pretending to be thoughtful «We do have tea, though.»
Alec contracted his facial muscles in a disgusted grimace «You drink the tea, old man.»
«Being a few years older than you doesn't make me old, Alec» he clarified, annoyed «And for the record, a lot of people drink tea, not just the elderly.»
«You're on the threshold of forty» Alec reminded him, arching an eyebrow to underline the age difference «Besides, you know coffee is the only thing that helps me get out of this bed.»
«Maybe making you leave this bed is not in my plans.»
«Do you think I’m such easy prey?»
Ralf lifted himself just enough to reach the boy's lips, lowering himself to them in a series of slow and languid kisses. Alec didn't offer any resistance to the other's attempt at seduction, on the contrary: he always welcomed Ralf's resourcefulness with enthusiasm. And it was only when he heard him chuckle – after having pulled on him and deepened that contact – that Alec realized he had just proved him right: his presence was enough to keep him nailed between those sheets.
«You were saying?» Ralf teased him, amused.
Alec bit his lip mischievously «It's only because we've finished coffee and I need something else to wake up with» he admonished him, looking up to meet the man's pale irises.
«Will you ever give me the satisfaction of winning?» Ralf asked, puffing out his exasperation.
The young lawyer smiled openly and for Ralf, who by now boasted a fair knowledge of his partner, that answer was enough.
Alec stared discontentedly at the view beyond the window. The pleasant drizzle that morning had turned into a downpour that seemed to have no intention of abating, forcing them to stay at home and give up the sightseeing tour of the city they had planned the night before.
«New York's meteorologists are terrible» Alec huffed, wrapped in a faded T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, watching the trees in Central Park bend under an unstoppable wind.
Ralf, lying on the long black leather couch and covered only by a boxer, shifted his gaze in the other man’s direction «Yeah» he confirmed, stretching lazily «What, you can't wait to escape?» he asked sarcastically, poorly concealing his real concern: Alec had managed to distract him with the extraordinary morning sex session, but Ralf didn't seem to have put aside the suspicion that he was hiding something from him.
The dark-haired man rolled his eyes, sitting down on the faux-fur carpet at the foot of the couch «Yes, it's really torture being here with you» he joked, while Chairman Meow – a small cat with a soft, striped fur – went to curl up on his lap, looking for caresses «Max could seriously hate me if he wakes up in the middle of a storm without me there» he added then.
«Alec» Ralf admonished him gently, lowering the volume of the television «You and Max live symbiotically, stop feeling guilty for having spent an evening away from him.»
Alec was not used to going to sleep at Ralf's without his son – he was not used to taking a step without involving Max, actually – and although his awakening had been incredibly pleasant, he could not help but miss the warmth that only the embrace of his child was able to give him.
Alec opened his mouth to answer, but realized he couldn't reply: Ralf had no children, he couldn't understand what effect being away from Max had on him. He shook his head and stood up «Breakfast?» he asked, leaving the hall behind with Chairman Meow running mischievously between his legs.
Dark colors and clear and essential lines recurred throughout the house, reflecting the elegance and minimalist taste traceable in Ralf's preferences. The kitchen, arranged in the traditional American style, housed a large black lacquered island flanked by tall walnut stools, in a clear reference to the decorative panels of the adjacent dining room.
The small perfumer placed on the composition of shelves at the entrance flooded the room with a sweetish fragrance, covering the unpleasant smell coming from the pack of cheese crisps that Ralf constantly left open on the island shelf.
Alec hurried to close his boyfriend's main source of nourishment, then moved towards the pantry door «What do you want to eat?» he asked, when he heard Ralf join him.
The man leaned with one shoulder against the jamb of the sliding door, an amused grin painted on his face «Are you going to cook?» he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
«I know how to cook» Alec clarified knowingly «Your oven sucks.»
Ralf shook his head in a gesture of clear exasperation «I wonder why Doris never complained about it.»
«Where is she today, by the way?»
«She's visiting her son in Connecticut, she'll be out all week.»
Alec's eyes widened «What?» he asked, amazed «Why didn't I know? Does this mean we'll only have cheese fries?»
The elder of the two gave himself a little push forward, slowly walking across the parquet floor to the counter where Alec was leaning, placing his hands on the sides of his body and trapping him in his own arms.
«I didn't know I had to warn you about the holiday of my domestic staff, Alec» he breathed a few inches from his lips, in a flirtation that hid a deeper truth – the awareness that Alec was now at home, within those walls «And anyway, I can actually cook.»
The young lawyer, stunned by the proximity to Ralf's sculpted physique as much as by the libido that made his eyes darker, ignored his boyfriend's provocation and pounced on his mouth, making their bodies collide and involving him in a passionate kiss.
Alec wondered whether he had done it because they rarely had the chance to enjoy a relaxing morning or because it was easier to bury the guilt in the blankets, but he decided not to dwell on it for long.
When Ralf sat him down on the counter and slipped between his legs, Alec was sure they were going to use the kitchen for a very different purpose than the one planned, but just as his shirt flew to the floor and Ralf's lips came down to brush against his neck, the latter's phone began to ring.
The landlord gave no sign of leaving, but Alec knew that cell phone wouldn't stop bugging them until he accepted the call. In fact, despite Ralf's stubbornness, the ringtone resumed covering the sound of their kisses.
«They better be dying» the man growled, pulling away from the other's body with a nervous jerk.
The conversation lasted for a few minutes, and Alec only needed to see Ralf's angry expression to understand how it would end: being the director of Praetor Lupus – one of the most important companies in the global textile industry market – implied being constantly available, at any time, whether it was a holiday or a weekday.
Despite the fact that Ralf had advised his collaborators not to disturb him that Saturday, he knew he couldn't expect not to be contacted: after all, he had responsibilities he couldn't shirk.
«I'm sorry» he sighed, dropping the phone badly on the table and walking back to Alec, reaching out to stroke his smooth cheek «I really have to go.»
The dark-haired man nodded, wrapping his hips with his own legs «Don't worry» he replied, leaving Ralf a light kiss on his lips «I think I'll take the opportunity to spend some time at home. My mother has been complaining for weeks about not seeing enough of her grandson, yesterday she had to threaten me to let him sleep there.»
Ralf let out a hilarious laugh «We’d better not upset her, then. Your mother can even intimidate me.»
«You have no reason to fear her as long as you make me happy… although without Doris I'm not very happy» he muttered to himself, casting a hostile glance at the oven that only the cook seemed capable of operating.
«Do you know you're spoiled?» Ralf asked, biting his jaw spitefully «Besides, one is supposed to know how to cook at least the essentials at the age of twenty-five.»
«You spoiled me» Alec reproached him, pouting «In the last year you never gave me the chance to experiment in the kitchen, you always took me out to dinner.»
«Should I apologize for that?»
«Actually, you should find a way to make it up to me.»
Ralf chuckled, shaking his head «You know what? I think you're right» he winked, pulling back and extending a hand to Alec.
The boy jumped off the counter and smiled «Haven't we already done a little too much activity for a man of your age?»
«You can't help but provoke me, mh?» Ralf asked, walking backwards towards the kitchen exit «And yet you don’t seem to have anything to complain about."
«Absolutely not.»
Half an hour later, irritation clinging to him like wet clothes from the now heavy rain, Alec reached the entrance of his building. He waved to Mr. Bernard, the paunchy, friendly-looking doorman who had occupied that desk for as long as Alec could remember, and slipped towards the lift before he could detain him with his indiscreet questions.
The relief at having escaped Bernard's gossip streak – the main source of gossip on the entire Upper West Side – lasted only for the time to get to his own home: a step away from the lift doors, with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyebrow arched in accusation, Maryse greeted him in all her austerity.
Alec had always called her edgy, an adjective that seemed to apply to both her sharp features and her tough, inflexible personality. She wore a sober, knee-length burgundy dress and wore her black hair in a low ponytail, giving him an image unchanged over time – as a child, Alec believed his mother had no expression other than that.
Her eyes, those big blue eyes that Alec had inherited, gave him a warning look «Thank goodness you're here. I'm joining your father in Boston for a conference and your sister has invited your friends, make sure they don't set fire to the house» she recommended.
Maryse had always needed few words to make herself obey, especially when those were accompanied by looks capable of making even the most stoic of the soldier tremble.
Perhaps because, Alec reflected as he took Chairman Meow out of the carrier, Maryse looked more like a general than a mother, and the Lightwood house had been turned into a military academy where every transgression was met with punishment.
He wondered if coming home at midday, completely soaked, could be considered a violation of the rules and realized that, at almost twenty-six years old, it was not acceptable to still feel like a fifteen-year-old boy coming home after curfew – he absolutely had to find a place of his own.
Then, however, those stiffened shoulders softened and her gaze let out an affection that she had learned to show only in the last few years «Max is still sleeping, last night we played until late» she said, hinting a smile «And now run upstairs and get yourself cleaned up.»
Alec nodded and ran to the bathroom before giving her a chance to give him another order.
He let the hot water from the shower loosen his nerves, banishing uncomfortable thoughts and focusing on the happiness he felt at the idea of spending an entire day with his family: it was increasingly rare for them all to be under the same roof, and his Max seemed to suffer that detachment more than anyone else.
He left the bathroom he shared with Jace and entered his room, or the "hovel," as Isabelle used to call it from the top of her architecture degree. In fact, unlike his brothers, Alec had never felt the need to redecorate his room according to the evolutionary phase he was going through, limiting himself to replacing the single bed with a double bed which now lay imposingly against a wall.
Despite Isabelle's offenses and her disdainful looks when she noticed yet another stain on the white wood of the desk or a scratch engraved in the navy blue of the closet, Alec felt fully satisfied with his room: all that blue had always had a calming effect on his restless soul, offering him a comforting refuge in which to hide when the outside world became impossible to inhabit.
Perched on the carpet that had once boasted a much brighter shade of blue, Chairman Meow was playing with the barely visible rays of a sunshine coming from the window overlooking the Hudson and from which the neighboring shores of New Jersey could be glimpsed, emitting meows that Alec recognized as pure joy: he loved coming home after a long stay at Ralf's.
Reassured, after drying off and putting on a simple summer suit, he left his room to check on Max. He found him still asleep in his cot, surrounded by a myriad of soft toys and with his black curls scattered on the pillow.
Alec could have stared at his son for hours, wondering for the umpteenth time how it was possible that such a perfect child was his son – the best part of his life – and fascinated by the way in which his mere presence could erase any thought.
He sat next to him, running gently a hand through his hair.
«Hey, sleepyhead» he whispered, kissing his temple.
Max made contrite noises, turning his face to the other side and muttering a series of disjointed words «Darkness, sleep, night night.»
Alec chuckled, continuing to stroke his back «It means that we'll give the chocolate cookies to Chairman Meow» he mumbled to himself, prying on his son's cocoa addiction.
In fact, Max's little head snapped up «Mine!» he exclaimed, turning to be able to look at his father «Chocolate cookies are mine» he reiterated, wrinkling his face still marked by the folds of the pillow «Meow no chocolate, his tummy makes a boo-boo.»
«Right! Glad you reminded me» Alec said, putting a hand to his head to highlights his carelessness.
Max nodded satisfied, taking off a couple of teddy bears and jumping into his father's arms without any warning. Alec had told him countless times that that was a bad habit, but no amount of scolding had helped to stop the little Max stop from suddenly throwing himself on his dad, convinced that nothing in the world would have stop Alec from grabbing him.
«Morning» Max yawned, burying his face in Alec's chest.
The young adult hugged him, losing himself in the knowledge that that was his favorite good morning.
«Hello, my baby» he greeted him, kissing his chubby cheek noisily «Shall we go and have breakfast even if it is almost lunchtime?»
Max laughed, holding on to Alec as he rose to leave the room «Breakfast for lunch!» he exclaimed cheerfully.
Alec made his way downstairs, wondering where his siblings were and not having to walk many steps before an answer: locked in a twisted grip and so tight that he couldn't tell where one ended and the other began, Jace and Clary, both in pajamas, kissed frantically and disorderly against the window that ran along the entire staircase, so taken by their passionate exchange that they didn't realize they were in one of the busiest passages of the house.
«Do you remember that there is a child in this house?» scolded Alec, putting a hand over Max's eyes.
Jace, caught on guard, let go of the girl and turned to his brother. His blond hair, usually in perfect order, had been ruffled by Clary's thin hands; his golden eyes watched him with a guilty glint, and the visible portion of his chest bore the marks of a night spent catching up on weeks away.
It was right after noticing a particularly dark hickey at the base of his brother's neck that Alec shifted his gaze to his friend, intent on arranging some red strands that had escaped from her bun.
The girl's green eyes narrowed «We haven't seen each other for weeks» she justified herself, aware of the accusation hidden behind the Lightwood eldest son’s amused look, bringing her hands on her thin hips in a more authoritarian move.
The eldest rolled his eyes, but it was Max, lowering his father's hand, who spoke «Uncle Jace and aunt Clary give each other kisseeeees» he chuckled.
Clary smiled «They give each other kiss because they love each other so much» she explained, tickling his side before grabbing Jace 's hand «And now they're leaving» she added, running along the staircase.
Alec, shaking his head in resignation, hurried down the stairs, noticing that his sister had once again changed the decor of the large living room: now it housed cold colors and bare corners, creating an environment clearly opposed to the previous one, which had been characterized by cozy shades and an abundance of decorations in all shapes and colors – on the long white leather couch lay Church, the old grey-furred Persian cat who seemed to hate anyone who dared cross his path.
«Have you changed everything yet?» Alec asked entering the kitchen – also in keeping with the new style – and placing Max on a stool, turning on the TV already tuned to the cartoon channel.
Isabelle, leaning against the pantry cabinet and intent on reading something from the tablet, brought her black irises on her brother, continuing to mix an unappetizing-looking soup. Her long dark hair was neatly pulled back into a high ponytail and her fit physique was hidden under a Pacman-printed T-shirt that reached above her knees – and which Alec was certain belonged to Simon, her boyfriend.
«Mom thought shabby chic was rough» the girl explained, showing her complete disapproval «This is Scandinavian, elegant but damned cold» she commented, approaching Max to leave a kiss in his hair.
«I like it» intervened a third voice, drawling Alec's attention.
Maia, in a pair of ripped black shorts and a white top that highlighted her dark skin, sat on the windowsill, her back against one doorframe and her feet – covered by the usual pair of boots – on the other; her curly hair, worn in a jaunty cut, was swayed by a warm breeze and her dark eyes followed the thinning clouds.
«What are you doing here?» Alec asked, placing the chocolate cookies in front of Max.
«Your parents went to Boston for a convention and Izzy organized a lunch with her inappropriate company» she replied, echoing the term Maryse used years ago to refer to their friends from a different social background.
The boy gave an amused look to Isabelle, who returned it with a fleeting smile.
«You, rather» continued Maia, already jumping from the windowsill «Why did you come down from Olympus to come among us mere mortals?»
«Ralf has been called to work» he said with a shrug. «Are you cooking, Iz?»
«Is it a problem?»
Culinary incompetence was a factor shared by all the Lightwoods and that found maximum expression in Isabelle: his sister was not only bad at cooking, but even became a danger when she started tinkering near the stove.
«Already those two infamous of Jace and Clary have slipped away saying they would feed on something else» said Isabelle, pointing the ladle at him «I won't allow you to despise my commitment!»
«Uncle Jace and aunt Clary give each other kisses» Max said distractedly, his eyes glued to the TV.
Alec cast an uncertain glance in Maia’s direction, who replied with a conspiratorial wink, a sign that she had already ordered some edible food from some place nearby.
«You are right. They're really boorish» Alec replied, using another term among Maryse's favorites.
«Let them enjoy themselves!» Maia scolded him, giving him a light slap on the shoulder «They can't all have a boring life like yours!»
«Hey! His life is not boring!» Isabelle objected, spitefully pulling a lock of her hair «He's the most promising lawyer in Penhallow Fell, has a wonderful son and a beautiful boyfriend who fully satisfies him!»
Alec, initially softened by the sense of protection that his sister showed towards him, found himself coughing when Isabelle mentioned his sex life, making the biscuit go sideways and forcing him to retrieve some water from the fridge. He risked choking on that too, then, when Maia said «Ralf must be really good in bed, considering that we don't see Alec anymore.»
«Excuse me!» he snapped, drawing the attention of both of them «Could you stop gossiping about my private life?» he asked, pointing at Max.
«Oh, Alec, but of course you do... give each other kisses!» his friend winked with the intention of further embarrassing him, making him regret the times in which she struggled to trust him and regretting having introduced Lily into the group, certain that she had been a bad influence on Maia.
Alec threw the bottle of water at her, but Maia managed to dodge in time, catching it on the fly and declaring it was time to wake up Simon, leaving the kitchen humming.
«Does mom know Simon slept here?» Alec asked, casually checking the messages on his phone: Lily had just written on the group that she bought everyone lunch – Alec sincerely hoped Isabelle didn't read it.
«No» replied the other, turning towards him and crossing her arms over her chest, looking him up carefully.
Alec, feeling observed, gave her a blank gaze «What?» he asked, dazed by the disappointment painted on his sister's face.
The brunette arched an eyebrow before asking – with a grimace awfully similar to their mother's «How are things with Ralf going?»
«Good» the eldest immediately put himself on the defensive.
«And where is he?»
«At work, I told you.»
Isabelle shook her head, annoyed «Alec, it's been weeks since-»
«Izzy, you must not meddle» he said, less confidently than he wanted to show.
«I don't like it when you hide the truth from me.»
Alec clenched his fists and hardened his gaze «Stay out of it» he ordered peremptorily, lowering his voice so that Max wouldn't get suspicious.
The younger sighed, well aware of the impossibility of scratching her brother's stubbornness, but stubborn enough not to give up: she advanced towards Alec and closed him in a hug, letting him find comfort in the arms of the one who had always been a safe haven.
«I just want you to be okay, Alec» she whispered, stroking his back «But» she continued, without giving him a chance to argue «The choice is yours. We're here anyway.»
Alec raised his head, mirroring himself in his sister's eyes – different color but same essence – and felt choked with anguish.
«Thank you» he replied, hinting at a smile and hoping that Isabelle didn't know him well enough to understand what was behind his behavior.
With his sister's hand caressing his cheek, Alec convinced himself not to give in: he wasn't ready to tell her the truth yet.
The glow of the lamps hanging from the ceiling dimly illuminated the large room of the Downworld, the smell of alcohol was barely perceptible under the perfumes of the customers who occupied the room and the hubbub was almost inaudible between the notes of a pop song blaring at full volume.
The colored trails of the spotlights reflected hypnotically in Alec's dull eyes and projected themselves in a messy dance of light and shadow among the folds of the blue shirt chosen for the occasion. He was completely absorbed, dissociated from the world around him, unable to feel the presence of a nearly unconscious Lily's head resting on his shoulder or to identify the figures moving frenetically in front of him.
As usual, following the formal dinner hosted by Penhallow Fell – the most prestigious law firm in the city, his mother's voice in his head reminded him – Alec had left a now sleeping Max in his father's arms and everyone had poured into Maia's bar, where they had cast off the robes of spoiled rich people to step into those of ordinary guys.
Downworld was just over a year old, the result of the commitment and determination of its owner: what used to be an abandoned warehouse in the suburbs of Brooklyn had been transformed into an industrial-style bar, with a long metal counter occupying an entire white brick wall and a well-stocked booze display behind it; square dark wood tables were arranged neatly on the vinyl floor, while lightly worn leather banquettes were scattered in the most secluded area. In the back of the bar there was a stage that hosted some new band every night, thus attracting a larger and younger clientele.
The stage, this time, was occupied by Simon. The boy had a pair of huge yellow headphones that clashed with his short, messy brown hair; the black T-shirt with the fluorescent “DJ SIMON” inscription that his friends had given him last Christmas to highlight the trained physique; the marked features of his face deformed by a euphoric smile and the chocolate-colored eyes veiled by a patina of inebriation.
Probably, Alec reflected from his peripheral position, it was that blatant drunkenness that was why Simon hadn't noticed the people buzzing around his girlfriend, intent on hopping and singing at the top of her lungs in the center of the improvised dance floor.
Alec would have liked to move to get a better view of Isabelle – not that his sister needed protection, just to appease that big brother apprehension that never left him – but the weight on his shoulder wouldn't let him.
Lily had staggered towards him a half hour ago and Alec had helped her to sit next to him, smiling at his friend's “I think I've gone too far” and letting her get comfortable against him.
The girl had collapsed a few minutes later, regardless of having assumed a not exactly elegant position – she was completely sprawled on the sofa, she had kicked off her shoes and her open mouth made her appear in a semi-comatose state. If that hadn't been Lily, his cheeky, impertinent and shameless Lily, he would have taken care to wake her up to make her assume a less disheveled posture, but he knew his friend and knew that she would have been able to kill him if he had disturbed her for such an idiocy.
Coming back to reality with a sudden change of song – rock notes began to resonate pounding and deafening in his head – he looked around, trying to locate the remaining members of his group with his eyes.
The truth was that Alec was trying in vain to propel himself a series of unconvincing lies that prevented him from leaving that dark and secluded corner and making contact with the others. If circumstances had been different, he would have let his friends persuade him to dance and sip a drink, abandoning his aversion to partying in favor of the entertainment his group always managed to provide him.
But the circumstances were no different and Alec absolutely could not afford to lose control: God only knew what he would have been capable of doing, if his rationality had been clouded by alcohol – he would have looked for him instantly, he was sure.
Before he could elaborate yet another excuse to encourage himself not to move away from that sofa, however, he saw Clary walking towards him. Her red hair fell in soft curls on an elegant blue dress and her tired eyes stared eagerly at the vacant armchair.
«I think I could throw my heels into the fire» she said, then shifting her gaze to Lily «Did she overdo it again?»
Alec shrugged «You know her, she likes to drink.»
«As it should be!» Isabelle exclaimed, leaping gracefully behind her friend.
Isabelle, who had decided to wear a tight red dress and sky-high heels that evening, smoothed her long dark hair back with one hand and dropped onto the armrest next to Alec, putting her arm around his shoulders and giving him a reassuring smile – her irises conveying the silent support for that secret she didn't know, but which she knew was wearing him down.
Alec turned to give her a grateful look, but stopped when he felt Isabelle tighten her grip around his body, just as Jace ran towards them.
His brother only gave him a fleeting glance before leaning down to whisper something in Isabelle's ear, causing her to stiffen further and sit upright.
«We have to leave» she said, grabbing his arm to urge him to follow her.
Alec frowned «What's going on?» he asked in alarm, ignoring Lily's protests about losing her pillow.
Isabelle kept her eyes wandering behind Alec, searching for a target invisible to him. Jace seemed just as busy surveying the surroundings, his face screwed up in an anxious grimace.
«Isabelle» he called her back, putting his hands on her shoulders «What's going on?»
His sister looked up and Alec fidgeted as he realized she was holding back tears. Sensing the reason for that drastic change in mood, he stroked her cheek, encouraging her to speak.
«I'm sorry» Isabelle whispered «I'm sorry, they told me but I didn't want to believe it. I should have told you sooner, I should have...» she sniffed and cast another nervous glance over Alec's shoulder «He's back, Alec. Magnus is back.»
Alec sighed. If he hadn't already known about it, the news would surely have sent him into a state of shock. But Alec not only knew Magnus was back in town, but he had even had the chance to talk to him — sort of.
He had suffered an emotional meltdown and was still realizing what had happened, but he had moved beyond the phase of initial astonishment.
«Wait» Isabelle said, when she didn't get any reaction from her brother «You already knew that!»
Alec nodded «I saw him» he replied, omitting to tell her about their meeting «He was here before us.»
«Do you want to leave?»
«Yes.»
«I tell-»
«No, you stay here. You know you're the only one who can handle a drunk Simon.»
«I'm going with him» Jace broke in, in a tone that didn't allow for reply.
Isabelle threw herself on her brother's body, squeezing him in a suffocating embrace «I love you. I'm here, you know that, right?»
Alec forced a smile «I love you too» he whispered, leaving a kiss on her head.
Jace exchanged a meaningful look with Isabelle and put a hand on Alec's back, pushing him towards the exit.
As he tried to make his way through the crowd of people, Alec's eyes were forcefully recalled by the individual who had been torturing his sanity for weeks. He was leaning against the counter, surrounded by his lifelong friends – friends who had also been his friends – with a drink in one hand and his cell phone in the other. The long legs were highlighted by tight dark trousers, the deep neckline of the abstract patterned shirt revealed the defined lines of his body and his amber skin stood out under the countless amount of glittering necklaces resting on his chest.
The thin face with oriental features showed a serene expression and Alec laughed because even from meters away, even after years apart, he was able to catch the nuance of that smile and recognize a clear tiredness – Magnus seemed exhausted.
Attracted by an unstoppable magnetism, Magnus' gaze moved in Alec's direction and his smile took an uncertain turn, sweet and furious at the same time. He suddenly seemed unaware of being surrounded by other people and took a step towards him, but his intent was thwarted on several fronts: Ragnor grabbed his arm, Maia leaned over the counter to place a hand on his shoulder, Isabelle stood in front and Jace stepped between him and Alec.
No one in there wanted to give Magnus a way to reach him. No one, Alec realized, was going to let Magnus get close to him again, not after he had torn him to pieces.
But you've already relapsed, a voice in his head reminded him meanly.
Embittered and disappointed, confused, he awoke intending to leave – it didn't matter where, he just wanted to get out of there – but found himself stuck, pinned in place by Magnus' pleading eyes. It was then that the wildest shiver ran through him, the terror that Magnus still had power over him.
He looked at Jace, who only needed to see that spark of panic in his brother's eyes to understand what to do: he dragged him away from the bar and took him into a dark alley. Safe within anonymous walls, in the arms of the one who had always represented a shield from the whole world, Alec felt free to fall – and he fell.