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1905
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“I don't care if it hurts. I want to have control. I want a perfect body. I want a perfect soul.”
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matthew, at the moment, regretted picking up his flask. he wiped away the remnants of vomit that was leftover on mouth with a trembling hand. a gentle hand was resting on his back, rubbing small circles over the back of his colorful vest. alamea. his alamea. he would be able to recognize that touch even if he was blind. he would have to apologize to james later for vomiting in his mother’s flower bushes. but that was about as far as he got— he was lucky he didn’t spew over his front door steps.
matthew planned to spend this evening’s ball with his parabatai, but the man had been too busy fawning over cordelia half of the night. the blonde couldn’t scorn him for it too much, not when alamea had approached him, just recently back from her months long trip to thessaloniki. a social season her father had insisted she gone to. she had.. simply disappeared at some point during the fall. no letter. no explanation. anna had to make clear where she went.
would he be lying if he said he wasn’t hurt? of course. matthew wasn’t a jealous man at all, but envy had burned ugly and bright in his chest for those men that had potentially taken interest in her. he wanted to be that man. to drop this terrible habit and be the man that alamea really deserved.
his fingers loosened their tight grip on the rail of the stairs as he spat out one more time into the grass below. “i’m sorry, angel.” matthew’s lips pressed together into a thin line. “i shouldn’t have drank so much.” because of the simple fact that matthew had little no control when it came to alcohol, he was now making alamea look after him like he was some small child. surely she had missed all of the others, and yet he was drawing her away from them.
the woman’s eyes softened, her hand gently squeezing his arm before dropping to tighten her shawl around her. “don’t worry about that now— i think it’s better if you sleep it off today.” she suggested, handing him his coat that was once draped over her arm. matthew hesitated, looking at the overcoat dumbly for a beat. he didn’t want to leave so early, but it was either that or have alamea act like a mother hen the rest of the evening.
he didn’t need to spend the next few weeks groveling at another shadowhunter’s doorsteps with gifts and apologies because he had vomited on another woman’s dress. so with a small sigh he took the coat and shrugged it on, his breath fogging up the winter air. matthew had never liked the wintertime. what was there to like? freezing temperatures, illnesses, and you have to dress in a ridiculous amount of layers.
the blonde watched as alamea followed him, and his steps briefly faltered. “i can head home myself— i wouldn’t want anyone to assume anything.” he protested, a small pinch between his eyebrows. but still, that infuriatingly serene expression remained on her face.
“nonsense, you’re ill. i wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” she responded.
“people talk, alamea.”
“then let them talk.”
the dark haired woman left it at that and walked ahead, expecting him to follow. and he did. obediently, he fell into step beside her. matthew would be damned if he let her walk the streets alone so late at night. “stubborn woman.” he grumbled under his breath, which earned him a slightly amused glance. normally, matthew would be much more upbeat, unable to keep his mouth shut and cracking whatever sarcastic remarks her could. but he was completely knackered tonight.
they approached a carriage, the door having a small emblem on them. alamea’s family crest of loannou. matthew, swaying and all, helped her into the carriage, momentarily blessed with the feeling of her cold skin against his own. soon enough, he climbed in himself, shutting the carriage door behind him as it started to move. cyril already knew where to take them— this wasn’t the first time she had escorted a drunk matthew home.
ill, hammered, and cold. matthew had every reason to be upset at the moment. he sniffled, glancing over at alamea. it was strangely quiet between them this evening. something heavy and charged that made his stomach churn with something unpleasant. disappointment. matthew knew that the woman was upset with him for reaching for the bottle once again.
whenever the man allowed himself to look at her, matthew thought he could admire her for the rest of his years and still find something new to be taken with. with all of the rushing alamea had done tonight, alamea’s pointed ears were slightly poking through her updo that was slowly falling apart. he rarely ever saw them— not many people did. sometimes, matthew couldn’t look at her. she was so breathtakingly beautiful it drove him up the wall. too bad very few nephilim thought the same.
they had multiple conversations, low and intimate between them about her heritage. if she was still even considered a nephilim despite her fae appearance. how being brought up as a shadowhunter by the fae had affected her. “sometimes, i watch people laugh, or cry, or argue— and i don’t understand why they do it. it’s.. easy for them. like they were given a map on how to navigate each other. but, i.. i was never given that map.”
matthew often thought back to what she said that night in his family’s study. he had been a boy of sixteen at the time, and one of the few times he was sober. he turned those words over in his mind like a pearl. he worried at the inside of his cheek, letting his head loll back against the window. every time shadowhunters looked at alamea, all they saw was a downworlder. a threat, something to be feared. not a child who was stolen. not someone who was so much more than how she appeared physically. not someone beyond their heritage.
matthew thought they arrived at his apartment complex unpleasantly fast. matthew and alamea hadn’t been able to spend any time with another recently, not with the fact that alamea needed to settle in and unpack after months in greece. every year it was the same— she goes away for a social season and comes back. this year, she had been there longer due to some revolts making it too unsafe to travel back home. and every year, her father would come back to london displeased because he hadn’t found a husband for his daughter.
after all, it was difficult to marry when you looked like you were a downworlder. as they climbed out of the carriage, the both of them stopped at the glass door outside of the building. the inside of it was warm and bright. inviting. it seemed like the doorman had gone home for the night. but matthew didn’t go in. not yet. he held her gaze for a long moment, the silence wrapping around them in a warm cocoon.
“i.. i missed you.” he murmured, fingers squeezing his gloves until his knuckles turned white. matthew could have swore that his heart skipped several beats as a gentle smile bloomed on alamea’s lips. it was just a slight tug of her lips, but it was there. and that was enough. her eyes were almost iridescent, he thought. “it was dreadful without you.” she responded finally, taking note of how the cold had made his cheeks and nose a gentle color of red. drunk and ill, alamea still found matthew lovely. and now far lovelier at the lopsided grin that spread on his face at his words.
“james and i will be going to the market on wednesday for christmas.” matthew blurted out. “would.. would you like to come?” while most of the time the blonde always felt warm and comforted around alamea, this was one of the few times where it felt like his mouth was stuffed full of cotton and all of a sudden he wanted to retch once again. and it was always because of that look.
the way her eyes hooded, and she stared at him as if he held all of the answers in the world— it made him suddenly feel like a teenager around her again. “matthew, you know i can’t. there’s too much unpacking for me to do.” she protested.
“anna will be there— if— if you want i’ll help you with unpacking as well.”
the woman looked at him blankly, weighing her option. matthew had missed her so terribly. he didn’t care if he was being selfish. and that lingering guilt for coaxing her out of her responsibilities immediately fled as alamea nodded, murmuring her reluctant agreement. she deserved a break for once, didn’t she? and matthew would help her finish up the rest as well.
the man grinned brightly before his smile softened. that familiar awkward air returned. it seemed to be haunting them recently once they were left alone. alamea shifted on her feet, trying to keep herself warm in just her shawl. matthew immediately took notice and shrugged off his coat. “you can return it to me later.” he immediately cut her off, knowing that she would protest.
he stepped closer to her, helping her put on the coat. it wasn’t too large on her— alamea was quite tall. slender as a branch. he had heard so much complaints from her over her appearance, and yet he never understood why she hated it so much. matthew smoothed over the fabric, gaze lingering on her eyes. he stood still like that— looking down at her in something like wonder. far too close than what was appropriate. his lips parted just slightly, as if he wanted to say something before they closed. snow gathered on her dark hair, and this close, he could see the snow gently gathering on her lashes. he felt his chest clench.
just as he decided it was time to step away, a gentle pair of lips brushed against his cheekbone. the man swore he short circuited.
“i.. i hope that the next time i kiss you, you are sober, matthew.” alamea whispered as she pulled away. and just like that, he was suddenly thrown back into reality. the softest lips he has felt were drawn away, the scent of lilac that was so strong for a brief second was gone, and those words had smothered out the warmth blooming in his chest like a match being blown out. he was reminded of what he was.
matthew nodded, the movement slightly jerky and frantic. “i will— i will.” he swore once his brain caught up. he felt.. helpless as she turned and made her way into her carriage. he stood there, slowly getting soaked through by the falling snow, watching as the carriage started to drive away.
perhaps the winter season wasn’t so bad.