Quinn felt for the doorknob of library in the dark, lightless, windowless hallway. She had often done this when she couldn’t sleep, it would calm her. Reading was a hobby, an escape. It would calm her when she needed it, and it would bring her happiness when she needed it. Reading was something that she would lose herself in. The characters, the world, everything. It was something the real world wouldn’t create.

Quinn shielded her eyes as she opened the door and was surprised to see the light was on. She didn’t know if anyone was inside, but she kept venturing. Shelves and shelves of books of different ages were all around the room from floor to ceiling, each wall had one. Each book-shelf was crafted to fit the room, and it was beautiful every time Quinn entered it. Chairs from different time periods were scattered across the room; each had a different story. Each was sat in many, many times and each was a different color and different print. Quinn felt her feet touch the soft, plush, white carpet. It was new. Something her mother thought would be nice, but was really tacky. The whole room could be considered tacky. It was like being thrown into 15 different places at once, with no recollection of who you were or what year it was.

Quinn closed her eyes and felt the different books, each spine had a name on it. Each book was both old with the spine broken and the pages falling out, or was new, hardly read, and had crisp white pages bound together. Quinn often chose the first.

She smiled once she landed on something she thought would be nice, and she wasn’t surprised to see that the cover was hardly seeable and that most of the pages were close to falling out.

Quinn turned around and bumped into something, or rather someone. She felt herself drop the book, and heard it fall to the ground. Quinn, though, just stayed where she was and backed up, bumping against the bookshelf. She had her eyes closed, hoping that she hadn’t just smacked her face into someone’s chest. But she had.

She opened her eyes and found herself looking into at someone’s chest, or rather a boy’s chest. A white t-shirt clung to his body, and she could make out the runes across his skin, each made with delicate skill that she could never figure out. Quinn looked up and met Theo’s green, green, green eyes. She didn’t understand why he was so close to her and she wanted him away.

“What are you doing here?” he asked her, a type of superior tone to his voice. It was the one that her parents used on her when she wasn’t following the rules. He crossed his arms and looked down at her with a brotherly look that it made her want to wince. He might be older and Cecily’s brother, but she didn’t like how she was being treated. “Isn’t it past your bed-time?”

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep,” she mumbled, bending down and picking up the book. It looked sketchy to her, but she didn’t question it.

“Well, get back to bed.”

“I’m close to your age, you know. I don’t need a bed-time,” she said. Quinn walked toward a white-claw chair, sinking into the cushions. She relaxed, releasing the breath that had been building up inside of her.

“Sorry, Quinn.” He sat in the opposite chair of hers, a dark-blue floral recliner. “Aren’t you, what, 14? 13?” He flipped through the pages of the Gray book, different runes visible as Theo flipped each page effortlessly.

“I’m 17.”

“Close enough.”

Quinn knew he was probably just bored and needed someone to hang out with, but she didn’t feel like being his drinking buddy or smoking cigars with him. At least that was what Quinn thought male Shadohunters did. “Are you having fun?” she asked, hoping to break the ice between them and get the friendship on.

Theo looked up at her and gave her a confused look. He closed the Gray book and sat cross legged, like he was 40, but really was 19. “Just the best.” He put the book on a side-table on his right. “You know what it must be like. Babysitting someone.”

“Babysitting? I’m not 8!”

“Of course not, you would be screaming right now at me. Oh, wait,” he paused, “you are.” Quinn wanted some kind of amazing come-back, but was at a loss. Come-backs weren’t her specialty and everyone knew that. He didn’t, though, and he waited. Theo tapped his fingers on the fabric of his chair, growing impatient.

“I-I… Uh,” she whispered, fumbling with the hem of her Hello Kitty t-shirt.

“You know what we should do?” He asked, suddenly shifting his mood. It was like a rainbow suddenly came and slapped him, but Quinn didn’t want to mention it. He might be the respectful teacher again. “We should go do something fun. Bonding. Since you are my sister’s best-friend, and I haven’t seen you in ages. Ages.”

“Well, I guess,” she croaked. Her accent was thick that night, and her voice was scratchy. “But what do you have in mind?”

He starched the back of his neck and stood up, his grey sweat pants un-wrinkling. He motioned Quinn to follow him and she did, warily, though. She didn’t know him that well, and she didn’t know if he was either taking her out for ice-cream or going to throw her off the Institute’s roof. It was unpredictable.

. . .

Quinn followed Theo through many sets of stairs, hallways, and rooms. They had gotten lost a few times, and Quinn insisted that she would lead him to where he wanted to go, but he refused. He didn’t want her to know and that made Quinn want to punch him. It weird for her, though, to see him. It was uncanny how much he and Cecily looked alike, and it scared her.

They traveled through a hallway that was like others: old. It was the same wallpaper, same siding, same pictures, everything. It was creepy for Quinn because it was like being in a haunted mansion. Except this time, she knew everywhere to go and how to get there.

“Just let me lead you, Theo,” she said for the third time. Her arms were crossed and she probably look constipated, but that was the price for trying to be in control.

“No.” It was simple, but he said it with a tone that made Quinn shiver. He was like a parent, but 10x worse. He balled his fists and huffed and puffed, turning down another hallway that was like the others. Quinn guessed that he didn’t know what floor they were on or what part of the Institute they were at. If he wanted to go outside, he’d have two ways. Turn around and go left, or keep going straight and turn right. If he wanted to go to the basement, he’d had to go straight and turn left. It was a maze, but Quinn knew it perfectly. “This place is hell.”

“Maybe if you would just let me lead you, we would’ve gotten to your mystery place earlier,” she muttered, but he apparently heard her. Theo turned around abruptly, making Quinn back up. He kept walking toward her, each step he took she took another one back until she felt her head hit the wall. It was a soft bump, but it made her wince. She crossed her arms, hoping to look confident, but he just copied her. His glare was something that a principle would applause.

“I am going to be in charge of this Institute, and I won’t deal with you trying to be better than me or superior,” he growled, looking down and meeting her eyes.

“What? Are you going to send me to detention?” It was her mistake, and she knew it. His eyes flushed with anger, but quickly was replaced with an affection. He backed up, letting Quinn take a breath, and un-crossed her arms.

He smiled at her and said, “Well, I guess we should probably go to sleep. Huh.” He scratched the back of his neck and walked right, down the hallway. Each step he took, the wood creaked under his feet.

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