seveninches | august 12, alec

Alec has probably spent more time in Isabelle's apartment over the last few weeks than he has his own, but Isabelle still feels like they haven't really spent much time together. She'd wanted to give him his space to work through things, and besides, Isabelle has been spending a lot of time at Billy's, too. Out of solidarity she hasn't spoken to Magnus except for a cold text message telling him exactly how much she disapproves, but from what she can see, things seem to be looking up.

Isabelle doesn't know if she'll ever truly forgive Magnus for hurting her brother like that, but she is glad to see them mending things. Darrow doesn't feel right with Alec and Magnus apart, and she'd been surprised to learn how much she depended on the two of them to ground her. Not to mention keep reminding her that it's okay to date, maybe. Isabelle has always been a firm believer in love being for suckers, and watching Alec and Magnus be all ridiculous around each other had made her start to believe she might be wrong. Watching them fall apart had hurt, made her question the entire institution all over again.

It's about time the Lightwoods had some time to themselves, away from everything, so Isabelle tells Alec to stay in tonight, and she goes grocery shopping for the first time in what feels like forever. She probably shouldn't cook, but she wants to, wants to feel like she's doing something, even if it's just cooking a meal for her brother, which he'll probably try and avoid.

She has a soup bubbling away on the stove by the time Alec walks through the door, and chicken in the oven. She figures she can't really fuck that up, but she does have the number for pizza on speed dial, just in case.

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From:

deflectere

Things are going better. Much better. Alec wouldn't go so far as to say they're back to where they are but it's heading that way and Alec's feeling better than he has in awhile. More centered, more complete.

After spending a day on training, he'd gone home to shower and was now stepping through the door, wet hair still clinging to his head. As soon as he got closer to the kitchen, he could hear the sounds of pots and pans clinking together and he knew what was happening: Isabelle was cooking.

Alec took a deep breath and steeled himself, stepping into the kitchen with a bottle of wine. It wasn't a celebration but they'd both had a tough month so he'd tried to bring something they could both drink and unwind with.

He set the bottle on the counter and then leaned against it, arms crossed. "You're cooking."

From:

seveninches

Alec walks in with his hair dripping all over her floor, and Isabelle might have chastised him if she weren't so busy trying to stop the soup from bubbling over. He does have a bottle of wine in hand though, which wins him some brownie points. A quick glance at the label says he's been learning from Magnus.

"Very astute," Isabelle says over her shoulder, stirring the soup again until it starts to settle. Confident that it's not about to go everywhere, she turns around to face her brother, a bright smile on her lips. "Hope you're hungry," she says, and she's half teasing. She'd be lying if she said she didn't get her amusement out of watching Alec squirm sometimes.

Reaching up into the cupboard above the sink, Isabelle pulls down two wine glasses and sets them on the counter in front of Alec. "There's a takeout menu on the fridge," she says, dropping her voice as though there's anyone else here to hear her. "If disaster strikes." Isabelle shakes her head, moving back to the stove. "Which it won't!"

From:

deflectere

Nothing smelled terrible yet and nothing appeared to be burning so Alec was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt for the current moment.

"What are you making?" Alec asked, uncorking the wine and filling a glass for Isabelle nearly the top. He filled his glass about halfway and placed the bottle on the counter before reaching for his class.

"Can I help at all?" he asked her after taking a sip of the wine. It was a little strong, fruity, but not terrible. He'd just bought what Magnus had recommended and hoped for the best.

From:

seveninches

"Soup to start, and there's chicken in the oven." She has vegetables too, which she'll get started on when the chicken is closer to ready. All in all she's pretty proud of herself, so long as nothing goes wrong from here on out.

Isabelle watches him pour the wine with a raised eyebrow, noting the differences in the glasses. "Are you trying to get me drunk for something?" She can't imagine what Alec would want to talk about that would require her to be drunk. Still, she takes a sip before she shakes her head.

"I have it under control," she assures him. She's even wearing a little apron, she's practically a domestic goddess now.

From:

deflectere

"I'm pouring you wine," Alec said, giving her a look for her comment. He didn't know what kind of tolerance Isabelle had but he figured it was a little hardier than getting drunk off of one glass of alcohol.

"Don't drink it all if it's too much," he said, putting the bottle down. "I have no reason to get you drunk anyway."

He made no comment about the food but he was sniffing every so often, making sure nothing was burning and nothing smelled like...well like the East River.

From:

seveninches

Isabelle doesn't question it any further, taking another sip of her wine before setting it down on the counter. "So then," she says, leaning her elbows on the benchtop to look at him, "I see the Magnus-repelling walls have come down."

Isabelle has never been particularly subtle and she doesn't see any reason for it now. She and Alec have always been comfortable talking to each other, and she doesn't think he's been trying to keep it a secret or anything. She's glad for them, if only because it means she can stop tip toeing around the subject.

"Did someone at least punch him first?" There are plenty of people in this city who love Magnus but Isabelle knows there are plenty who love Alec too, and she'd be surprised if none of them tried to say exactly what they thought of the whole situation. Luke and Spencer especially.

From:

deflectere

"We're working on it," Alec told her simply. He picked up his wine and swirled it around before taking a small sip. He made a face, a reaction he tended to have when it came to alcohol before swallowing it down.

"I don't think anyone punched him," Alec told her, shaking his head. "I think he got yelled at but no one punched him. You missed your chance, Izzy."

From:

seveninches

Working on it is better than avoiding each other, she supposes, so she'll take it. Considering Alec's usual reluctance to talk about his feelings ever, it's probably leaps and bounds. She smiles when he makes a face at the wine, taking a sip of her own.

"Not even Luke?" she asks, half disappointed. Isabelle likes Magnus but a good punch would have been a good story, and she's sure Magnus could have fixed himself right up with magic if need be. "I was being dutiful and giving him the cold shoulder instead," she says, though now she's wishing she had stormed over there. "Maybe I'll convince him to come to the next fight club."

From:

deflectere

"Not even Luke, no," he said, shaking his head. "He might have wanted to but he restrained himself. I was almost more concerned that Reid would have punched him."

Luke had been angry, of course, but Reid had been the one making threats and Alec had believed that he would have followed through if Alec had asked him to. He got the feeling Reid was used to being underestimated and enjoyed showing people how wrong they were about him.

"Good luck with that," he said, snickering down at his glass of wine. "Though who knows, he might let you. I think he's afraid of you."

From:

seveninches

Isabelle tries to imagine Reid punching someone and smiles. For all his sweetness, she thinks there's a strength and fierceness to Reid that would lend itself well to a fight. It's not necessarily something she hopes to ever see, but it does intrigue her. "He got off lucky then," she says, wrinkling her nose. "I'll be sure to tell him that."

Alec seems happy enough again, which makes most of her anger dissipate. She's still disappointed, still angry that Magnus was that stupid, but it's not heated enough to go and start a fight. Still, it might be worth watching him squirm. "He should be," she counters, stirring the soup idly. "I'm very scary."

From:

deflectere

"Yes, you are," Alec said, watching her carefully. He didn't think she'd go after Magnus now, not seriously, but he knew very well that she wasn't going to be able to go back to how it was before. Alec couldn't blame her for that. If their situations had been reversed and it had been Billy kissing someone else, Alec probably would have broken his legs and, even if Isabelle had forgiven him, Alec wouldn't have been able to forgive and forget.

"I'm not going to talk you out of that," Alec told her with a slight smile. He took another sip of his wine and then swirled it around in his glass, watching her. "Might even be fun to see you scare him."

From:

seveninches

Dinner looks ready enough, as far as Isabelle can tell, so she turns off the stove and rummages for bowls and spoons. "Good," she says, though she doesn't think Alec would ever have tried to talk her out of it anyway. Isabelle's pretty sure Alec would never try and talk her out of anything she wanted to do. He's always respected her choices. It's a little bit of a pity that she can't test it out to see whether that respect would be extended to letting her break his boyfriend's kneecaps, but she'll live.

"Scaring warlocks is my specialty," she jokes as she ladles out the soup and sets the oven to warming instead of cooking. Gesturing Alec to the table, she follows him with the bowls, setting one down in front of him. It's been a while since she cooked for him, for obvious reasons, but she's hoping this is at least passable. She's gotten a whole stack of cook books from the library, and not having a mundane job means she spends a lot of time watching daytime cooking shows, too. She thinks she's getting better, but this will be a test.

"I am glad that you're sorting things out though," she admits, sitting down across from him and taking a sip of her wine. "I much prefer happy Alec."

From:

deflectere

"Yeah, yeah." Alec could have argued that he wasn't necessarily happy but he was better. He wasn't steeped in anger and depression. He'd managed to climb out of that pit and it was securely in the rear view mirror which is where Alec hoped it stayed.

"What exactly did you make us?" Alec asked her, taking his seat and trying not to sound too dubious. Whatever she'd cooked wasn't on fire and it didn't smell terrible but Alec was going to be wary. "Stew?"

From:

seveninches

"It's soup," she says, raising an eyebrow. "What does it look like?"

She doesn't think she could have messed soup up that badly, and it's not like there are any chunky stew-like bits in it. She recognises that tone in Alec's voice and she tries her best not to be disappointed.

"I've been reading up," she says carefully, measuring her words, "and practising." She'd already seen what happened to Billy after food poisoning once, and she has no intention of repeating the experience, even if that hadn't been her cooking. "I'm determined to get good at this."

From:

deflectere

"Okay. Just curious," Alec said hurriedly, not wanting to upset her. He was wary of her cooking because of past experiences but it was something she loved doing and he wanted to make sure she kept that love even if she wasn't the best cook.

"You cooked for Billy yet?" Alec asked her, looking up. "Are you two at that point in your relationship?"

He raised an eyebrow at her and tilted his head. He tended to keep out of her relationships for the most part but this one seemed a little more serious than her dalliances back home.

From:

seveninches

She's confident that she has gotten better, but she still sips at her wine and waits for Alec to start eating first. It's his penance for doubting her, she decides, watching him curiously. There's no Church here for him to try and smuggle his food off to this time.

"I have," she says, thankful that it wasn't her cooking that gave him food poisoning, at least. That hadn't been fun at all, but at least she knows it wasn't her that caused it. Aside from the fact that she dared him to eat the fish, of course. "He hasn't died, you'll notice."

It's unusual for Alec to bother asking anything about the people she's seeing at the time, so she supposes this is his way of checking if things are more serious. It is, in a way she supposes, more serious than any of the flings she had back home. She likes Billy a lot but it's early days, yet.

From:

deflectere

Alec glanced down at the food and picked up his spoon. It didn't look too bad and the colors weren't off but Alec couldn't help being slightly wary. He'd had some bad Isabelle created food before and it stuck with him.

"I would hope Billy's hardier than that," Alec said, finally getting some of the food on his spoon and saying a silent prayer before he put it in his mouth.

It was...well, it wasn't terrible. The taste was a little off but it still was better than other things she'd cooked. He swallowed and nodded. "It's not bad."

From:

seveninches

He doesn't keel over or spit it back out again, so Isabelle tries it herself. He's right, it's not great, but it's a shade better than anything she's tried in the past. Still, the look on his face says he's going to force it down but not enjoy it, so she pushes her bowl away and rolls her eyes.

"Okay, okay," she says, dialling the number for Chinese takeout and ordering in. "Next time it will be really good, I promise," she says when she hangs up. They'll have to wait another twenty minutes or so for dinner but she thinks he'd probably rather that.

"He is hardier," she says, taking the bowls into the kitchen to deal with them later. "Billy, I mean. He is a superhero."

From:

deflectere

"It really wasn't that bad," Alec assured her, still wanting to encourage her because of how much he knew she liked cooking. She was genuinely getting better and he didn't want her to give up.

"I could really eat it, Isabelle," he said, getting up and following her into the kitchen. Maybe he could at least help do the dishes or something.

"Even if I'm not Billy, I could eat it," he promised with a small smile.

From:

seveninches

"You're Nephilim, you don't need to be Billy," she retorts. Billy might be a superhero but the other day had more than proven that he can still get sick. At least in that respect, Alec and Isabelle still had the upper hand. It's odd though, that for the first time in her life, in Darrow she doesn't mind the times that she doesn't have it so much. Back home the idea would have been laughable, but here Isabelle is living a more mundane life than she could have ever dreamed, and a small part of her likes it.

"But it's your taste buds I'm trying to be nice to, not your stomach." Well, both, she supposes, but she does want him to enjoy coming here for dinner. Next time she'll do better, that's all there is to it.

"More wine?" she asks, figuring that they might as well drink while they wait.

From:

deflectere

"I don't want to be Billy either," Alec said with a shake of his head. Not because he didn't like Billy but because it meant he wouldn't be who he was today, wouldn't have the abilities he did. His whole life would be different and that was a scary thing to imagine.

"Sure," he said, holding his glass out to her and nodding. "You know, in a few weeks, I'll have been here a year."

It was bothering him more than he let on. Manhattan just seemed so far away and he worried that the people he'd left behind would fade soon thereafter.