Work Text:
“Why did you send that letter?”
Thomas flinches. He’d stepped outside the Townsend party for some air. In hopes that the chilling wind would ease the suffocating weight in his chest. He hadn’t expected to be followed. Followed by the one person he had been trying to avoid. He adjusts the collar of his coat, giving his tongue time to catch up to his mind.
“Pardon?” He asks, choosing to only glance behind him. He can’t face him. He’d have to swallow his tongue first.
“Don’t play coy, Lightwood. Your letter. I want to know why you sent it. There was no need to inform me. So, I ask then, what was the reason? Was it truly just to tell me you would not be present?”
Thomas bites his lip. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
“If that were true, then why are you here now? Why did you come?”
This he can answer.
“It would have been impolite to refuse an invitation without merit.” He says unconvincing.
There’s silence, and Thomas knows he’s being studied. He can feel those cool black eyes on him. He shivers and adjusts his coat collar again as if to convince himself that the cold caused it.
“That doesn’t answer my question. Why did you send the letter? If you were going to attend regardless of my attendance, then why write to me telling me that you would not come if I was to be here. No doubt it was because you are feeling aggrieved about the last time we met and—”
“What about you?” Thomas blurts out before he can think.
“Me?”
Thomas takes a deep breath and turns around, his breath catching in his throat the same way it did when he saw Alastair arrive after they had served dessert and again when he watched Alastair perform.
Alastair looks as he always does. His thick ebony strands combed effortlessly back out of his dark eyes and his vest pressed and curved over his shoulders. He stands as guarded as his heart, but there is an aura of vulnerability around him now. A piece of Thomas’ heart cracks because of it.
“I never received a response from you.” he says and Alastair blinks at him. He clears his throat then, “I only came out of respect for the invitation and I meant to leave before you arrived” he lies, “but as the night went on and you still did not show, I...well--” Thomas fumbles, he knows he isn’t addressing the insinuation, he’s never been a good liar, and judging by the look on Alastair’s face he’s not buying it either.
Thomas shakes his head to regain some composure. “You’re right. I had no reason to write to you. Frankly, I’m not sure why I did. Excuse me” He nods, moving to go back into the house.
“Just how long are you planning on avoiding me?” Alastair asks, stepping in front of Thomas, blocking the path to the door.
Thomas looks down. For a moment it seems as if Alastair had moved without thinking, but then there’s a look of determination and confidence that Thomas has always admired in his eyes. That kind of confidence seems unobtainable to Thomas right now.
“This is not the time.” He says quietly, moving to step around Alastair.
“Then when is the time?!” Alastair says, his voice raised in exasperation.
Thomas stops taking a deep breath before turning back to face him again.
“Make no mistake. I want to apologize and I have tried to apologize for my actions, but every time I come near you, a wall of your friends prevents me from doing so. You write letters informing me you won’t attend events where I am present and now move to avoid me again. Honestly, I expect this kind of behavior from those half-whit—“
“Be careful how you finish that sentence Alastair Carstairs.” Thomas says. The sharp edge of his tone surprising. Even to himself.
Alastair swallows, “You can hardly hold it against me that I have not apologized when you will not allow me to do so.”
Thomas opens his mouth to speak, but no sound escapes.
“Thomas” Alastair’s voice is just above a whisper but it rattles Thomas’ bones. It’s only then that Thomas notices how close they are standing. He can make out every crease in Alastair's brow, the smooth skin of his cheeks, the curve of his lips. They’re too close and Thomas can’t breathe.
“Thomas”
“I have to get back” he mutters, turning away towards the door. He returns to the party, the weight in his chest heavier than when he’d stepped out, knowing he left Alastair alone in the cold, along with his heart.