Alec… doesn’t do feelings. Not since Rachel anyways. That part of him that believed in forever, letting someone see everything…it died with her. And maybe he kept pretending like he didn’t care, and that nothing could touch him. But that wasn’t true.

Not when you looked at him like he was more than what Manticore made him to be, and like he didn’t scare you. You knew about it all, how he was trained to be a weapon, and yet you refused to look at him any different. The night you found him after a mission went to hell, he’d been on the rooftop. His jaw was clenched tightly, his knuckles were bloody, and he was just trying to outrun the guilt that crawled under his skin. You didn’t ask him to explain, you just sat beside him. He didn’t say anything for a while. “Maybe I am just weapon.”

“You’re not a monster, Alec.” He wanted to laugh, or break something just to feel in control again. Instead, he looked at you, and realized that was it. Theres this constant war inside him where he needs you in the terrifying, real, permanent way. And that is dangerous territory to him. When you laugh, his heart skips. Or when you patch him up, his walls crack. And when you touch him he thinks, “God help me, I love you.”

But he never says it. Instead, he throws you a cocky grin. “Careful, you’re gonna make me soft.” You roll your eyes, call him out on his bullshit like always, but you lean just a little closer. And one of these nights, when he finally lets the truth slip past his lips, it won’t be smooth or pretty. It’ll sound like a confession, a warning, and a plea all at once. “You’re it for me, okay? So don’t run. Don’t leave. ‘Cause if you do, I’m not sure I’ll come back from it this time.” But for now, he just watches you.