METANOIA ... a.lightwood [1]

↣ Chapter Thirteen ↣

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S W E A T Y 

S H A D O W H U N T E R S 

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Night had fallen over New York when Chris finally left his friends house, the final slice of hawaiian pizza in his left hand and his phone in the other. He was going to phone Magnus, to tell him he was going home, but he assumed that the older warlock was still with the Shadowhunters, and so he decided to just pocket his phone, and finish his pizza.

Instead of going home, like he probably would have done had it been any other night - unless, of course, he was partying - Chris decided to go for a walk through New York. It was a nice city and one he hadn't been able to freely roam through without running into Shadowhunters. And he had been cooped up looking for Caroline for so long that he hadn't stopped to walk through a moonlit park.

As he walked, he couldn't help but look up, watching the stars twinkle above his head. He was surprised to see so many constellations with being in such a dramatically big city, but he supposed that with all the magic that went on in New York, someone had bewitched the pollution out of the air. Chris wished he could do that everywhere, it would save the planet. But, alas, no one was strong enough to save the world in such a way, and so they had to resort to keeping the planet clean in more mundane ways.

"Chris!" The shout stopped the warlock dead in his tracks, and he turned to see the bright haired Clary running towards him.

"What's up little red?" he asked, leaning against the bench she had stopped him at. She let out a sigh and Chris noticed the tear tracks on her cheeks. His eyebrows furrowed, who had hurt her and how long until he was allowed to hurt them?

"Hey, you okay? You look like you've been crying?" Clary nodded, her ginger hair falling over her shoulder. She tucked a few strands behind her ear, allowing Chris to see that she looked slightly nervous.

"I was talking to Luke, he told me everything."

"Everything, as in...?" he trailed off when she nodded, his mouth becoming dry. Bad memories tumbled through his head and he tried to force them away, but Clary's sympathetic eyes were not making him feel any better.

"Why did you help him if he-?" Clary cut herself off, not wanting to say the words. Chris knew what she meant. If he tried to kill you? She couldn't say those words, couldn't let the father figure she had built in Luke be destroyed.

"Honestly, little red-" Chris sat down on the bench, and Clary followed his actions. She noticed the way he clasped his hands together in his lap, closing himself off. "-I'm not so sure. I didn't want to help, actually I wanted to make it worse for him."