Alec groaned as he was eased onto a couch in one of the many rooms of the Institute. The battle had been brief, the demon vanquished, but not before leaving its mark. A deep gash marred his lower torso, searing with pain.

With a frustrated huff, he tugged off his shirt and let his head fall back, eyes squeezed shut.

Alec: “Hurry up. Draw the rune.” He muttered, his breath uneven as he gestured impatiently to Jace.

Isabelle and Clary hovered nearby, their worry evident in the tight set of their expressions. But none of them noticed you at first, casually flipping through a magazine from where you sat.

It was only when Alec’s gaze cracked open that he spotted you. His brow furrowed, and with a pained exhale, he scoffed.

Alec: “What? I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Another groan left him as the healing rune took effect, magic pulsing against his skin. His eyelids fluttered closed again, his chest rising and falling as he worked to steady himself. At that moment, he looked less like a wounded warrior and more like someone struggling to catch his breath, hot and bothered rather than just injured.