Distractions

Thirty-Seven: Flirtatious Babes

"That would be a katana," Sebastian said almost immediately. "You can tell by the fact that it's curved and has a single edged blade."

Everest scribbled down the name on her wrist and then looked back at Sebastian. His pendant necklace was swinging slightly. "The other one is a medium length blade forged with a really specific recurve to it, kinda like a really wide V almost. It's from Nepal and is a great fighting knife but it's also great at cutting, chopping, skinning animals, and opening cans."

He hummed slightly, eyes drifting away from her face as he thought. His gaze settled on her again and she repressed the urge to flinch. His dark eyes were surprisingly full of pain for someone who was so young. Granted, she and many of her friends had the same pain in their eyes, but still. It was startling to see someone her age that she had never met before hold the same pain she did.

"I believe that might be a kukri, based on it being from Nepal and shaped like that."

"That! That's it!" She scribbled down the name and grinned at him gratefully as she stood. "Thanks Sebastian, you've made my life a lot easier. Less research and Jace hunting and all."

He chuckled, a low rumbling noise that sounded bitter to her ears despite her not knowing any reason for it to sound like that. "You're welcome. I'm glad to have been helpful."

Everest was halfway to the door when she stopped. She turned halfway, hesitating for a moment before forcing herself to speak. "Sebastian?"

His gaze switched from the foxglove to her and once more she couldn't help but notice the pain in his eyes. "Yes?"

She took a deep breath and let the words tumble out. "I wanted to say thank you for helping Izzy. You didn't know her at all but you still saved her. You didn't have to. And you didn't have to let her stay at your apartment afterwards, but you did. And I don't think I've thanked you yet, so here I am. Because I don't think you realize what you've done for me and everyone else here by helping her." She swallowed thickly and he stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. "She's everything to me. My best friend, my sister, the reason I'm still here walking around causing chaos, my everything and more. I love her so much, and I just—I don't know what I would have done if I had lost her. Especially after just losing my mom and so many other people I care about. It messes you up. A lot. And I don't know if I would have survived losing her too. So thank you, genuinely, from the depths of my soul."

His gaze was sad as he nodded. "I'm sorry that you have lost so much," he said quietly.

"Me too," she whispered, gaze falling to the floor.

"I know how it feels to have lost people," Sebastian said after a moment. Her gaze shot back to him. "My mother died when I was very young and my sisters soon after. I didn't get to know my sisters like I wanted to, and I still feel that pain every day."

"I'm so sorry," she said, her heart breaking despite hardly knowing him. No one deserved to go through that.

"As am I. And besides not wanting someone to die because I didn't help, that is part of why I helped Isabelle. I didn't want someone to go through the pain I did because they lost a sister, girlfriend, friend, Parabatai, or whoever she is to them."

"I appreciate that, a lot," she said quietly, spinning her snake ring around her finger.

He offered her a small smile that she did her best to return as she walked out of the greenhouse. As she walked, she couldn't help the sadness she felt for Sebastian. Even when she was young and thought her dad was a soldier who had died before she and Clary were born, she hadn't had a connection to him beyond the idea of him. And she still had her mom and Clary. Sebastian had had a connection to his mom and sisters before he lost them, and had mourned not just the idea of them but the connection they had shared. And having experienced both types of grief, the one where you didn't properly know them and the one where you did, Everest thought that knowing them and losing them was worse.