Love is a Sickness

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Sophie passed a measured glare over Mr Lightwood and Thomas. She studied her shoes as she waited for Mr Branwell, Agatha, and the other Mr Lightwood to pass by. The eldest Lightwood stood in front of her clenched and unclenched his fists and shifted his weight between his legs, clearly nervous. Thomas, in contrast, stared straight ahead at Sophie. With a sigh, Sophie turned to him and spoke, "I understand that you care for me, but that does not require you to treat me as if I were an infant child. Frankly, I find it rather insulting."

Thomas looked as if she had spat on him. "Sophie, you wrongly interpret my concern! I would never venture to think that you were in any way below me. I simply want to ensure you don't get taken advantage of by someone who does not see you as equal." Lightwood grimaced.

Sophie placed a hand on Thomas' shoulder but looked at Mr Lightwood as she said: "I can tell for myself if a gentleman respects my person or not."

At hearing that, Thomas' jaw was set. He shot a glare at Mr Lightwood, then brushed Sophie's arm off him and thundered down the hall. Frowning slightly, Sophie watched as he went. The sound of a throat being cleared drew her attention back to Mr Lightwood. Behind her, Mr Carstairs, Mr Herondale, and Miss Keeley left the training room, too. The two of them were completely alone in the hallway.

"Miss Collins, I would like to apologize for anything I might have done to offend you," Mr Lightwood breathlessly said.

"I-- You haven't offended me, Mr Lightwood," Sophie looked down to mask the hint of red creeping into her features, "It was just me and my foolishness. Of course, you are a teacher, and if a pupil is underperforming it is your duty to--"

"Not at all, Miss Collins! Forgive me for cutting you short, but you are the most fantastic students I could ever be graced by. In comparison to even Nephilim women, who are born with fighting in their blood, you have taken to my teaching at an extraordinary pace."

"Is that so...? I had merely conjectured from the many instances of you speaking in Spanish during our prior training session that you were saying something you'd rather I did not understand."

"Of course not! In fact, I only speak Spanish when I am in a good mood." Gideon smiled at her again and Sophie had to look away, at which he frowned.

"Is something amiss, Miss Collins?"

"No, nothing Mr Lightwood." Sophie bowed and fled from Gideon.

Jem cast an uncertain look over Greta and Will. He tapped his cane absentmindedly against his leg, then announced that he would leave the two of them to sort their business. Will supposed that he expected them to decide on their engagement.

For five years, the polite society of Nephilim decried that the two of them would never stop speaking, yet at that moment it seemed as if they had both forgotten the English language. Greta kicked around the rocks littered on the floor, and Will, determined to look at absolutely anything that wasn't her, admired the scenery of the Institute's grounds.

They could not continues on like this forever. Eventually, one of them would have to break the silence, and Will dreaded being the one to do it. Why did he have to tell Jem he was in love with Greta? He was his parabatai, after all, sooner or later, Jem would figure out that Greta was not the woman he loved. This deception could not carry on much longer. But what was the alternative? Tell Jem that he was in love with the same woman as he? Sure, they were parabatai, but even a parabatai couldn't forgive something such as that. Knowing Jem's kind heart, he would forsake his feelings and encourage Will to pursue her.

When he was certain she wasn't looking at him, Will let his eyes float over to Greta. Oh, Greta. He could have called her the sister he lost. In his soul, he knew he could not break her heart the way he had poor Tatiana Blackthorn's all those many years ago at the Christmas Ball. But whatever else could he do? He could not marry her. She was a bright, vivacious girl who deserved a man who loved her and was worthy of her. That man was not Will.

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