#Heronchild Hairdresser

[galbinuscarnation]

The Last of Real Ones

Chapter 1

Haircuts were a chore for James Herondale. Ever since he was a child, his hair has grown massively and uncontrollably curly. Unfortunately for his parents, he abhorred having his locks chopped off like the the other boys his age. His mum compromised with hair ties, barrettes, headbands the like when he was a toddler but when it was time for him to enter primary school, he quickly realized that there was an expectation for boys to have shorter hair than girls. His tantrums soon became pouts and small sniffles into his mum’s embrace after his dad had put away the scissors. James couldn’t fault his parents for trying to help him, and held no bitterness against them for not respecting his wishes as a five year old. He was able to look back and chuckle a bit, especially at the memory of his dad sitting down for his mum and attempting to model what a haircut should have been like and getting immediately itchy and chasing James whilst flicking his itchy hairs at his son.

That was a period of time before his father had become the renowned author, Will Herondale. In later years he was constantly locked in his office drafting new works, while his mother tended to his little sister Lucie, and James. He still respected his father, and his mother, Tessa, never complained, and it was not like there weren’t other male figures in his life. His Uncle Jem, for example, would visit their household and was equally, if not differently, an influence in his life like his parents.

Maybe, James thought, he was projecting his disdain for haircuts on remembering his father because his hair was basically a more shaggy version of Will’s seemingly flawless, unruly and handsome hair. Also, because he was currently heading towards a salon, with the money his sister forced upon his wallet, and business card of an apparently excellent hairdresser. He also couldn’t get out of it, because Lucie threaten to call the establishment to make sure he went and even went as far to book an appointment for him. Not, James smirked slightly, that Lucie would have time to call till closing because of her busy schedule as a publishing intern for TIME Inc.

Blinking as he arrived to his destination, a salon in Soho on Great Marlborough Street, he immediately was caught off guard by the pastel green floral decor lining the window and the door, which was also green. He briefly wondered if this was an Irish theme of some sort and meandered around the people still walking while he had paused, and opened the door. An overbearing wave of heat overcame him, he assumed from the sound of a handheld dryer, and the rows of hair dryers while a few women waited reading magazines and the like as ambient classical music played.

James instantly regretted stepping inside what he should have known was a space for the opposite gender, since he received some confused and some appraising looks from the various patrons. Before he could turn tail and leave, coming up with an excuse like “I agreed I would go not actually get a cut” for his sister, a voice rang over the noise and music and James turned to see a man with rosy blonde hair brandishing a comb in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other.

“Hullo sir, I’ll be right with you!” He smiled radiantly, and James squinted at him suspiciously, recalling the name on the card, Matthew.

“Very well,” James settled with saying as Matthew turned his attention to his current client seated in front of him. This entire establishment was beyond James comfort zone, but he was here, Matthew had seen him, and now he sat on a couch which seemed ancient and Edwardian, but well preserved despite that. To avoid the continuing stares of some women that had nothing better to do with their time while their hair dried, James produced his book from his messenger bag. He could hear Matthew the hairdresser talking animatedly with some woman on the chair. James mind drifted away from the environment and into the book, becoming lost in the fantasy and ignoring the reality of his discomfort and impending appointment.

“James Herondale, correct?” James jumped in his seat and adjusted his glasses to look up at Matthew who appeared before him with a winning smile. James had the urge to scowl at him, but held his tongue and nodded, clearing his throat as he put away his book.

“Yes.”

“Didn’t mean to startle you!” Matthew apologized and bit his lip before it formed back into that irritatingly fitty smile. “Lucie did mention you like books too.”

Great, James drawled within his thoughts as he stood. This man would have expectations of him due to Lucie’s inability to respect his privacy. “Yes, hard to avoid books in my family.”

Matthew nodded in agreement. “Of course, how’s your father?”

“Um,” James faltered, it was natural for people to assume his dad was the reason his children loved to read, despite the fact that his mum was also an avid reader, and pushed his dad to pursuing his dream of being an author. There would be no Will Herondale without Tessa, and it didn’t help that over the years his uncle Jem Carstairs rose to fame as a violinist and known friend of the famous author, adding fuel to the fame flames. “He is well, writing, signing books, the like.”

“Sounds glamourous.” Matthew gestured to the now empty seat in front of a massive mirror. “Care to have a seat?”

James could not tell if Matthew was being sarcastic or earnest, but if Lucie felt this man was the right one to tackle the task of his outrageous hair, who was he to argue? Maybe later, if this ordeal turned out with his hair being buzzed off entirely. He made his way to the seat, relaxing a bit as aria from one of his favorite pieces began. He concentrated on that, even when he could see Matthew stanitizing the scissors and switching out the recently used combs and brushes for new ones.

“What were you thinking of doing today?” Matthew spoke easily during his task.

“I’m told that I need a haircut,” James told him bluntly, and flushed at how brash he must’ve sounded. Of course he needed a haircut, his curls were covering his eyes, only his glasses were keeping it slightly out of his line of vision.

Matthew laughed, his eyes twinkling. “Do you now? You have magnificent hair, and with a little styling and some accessories you could definitely pull it off.”

“Really?” James asked, skeptical and blushing. Was this man encouraging him to not get a haircut with flattery?

“Really,” Matthew repeated with a chuckle, placing his instruments down. “But I swore a solemn oath to your sister that I would cut your hair today.”

Of course, James thought bitterly, recovering from Matthew’s earlier comment, damn Lucie.

“We’ll start with removing your glasses...” Matthew reached out for them, but on instinct James grabbed the man’s wrist. It went slack at the grab, and with a gasp James released the startled hairdresser’s hand.

“Sorry…” James eyes darted to his lap and he put his shaky fingers to his rims.

“No it’s alright!” Matthew waved his hands in front of him. “They would be in the way but I shouldn’t have grabbed them without asking or explaining myself.”

James nodded and took his glasses, handing them to Matthew’s outstretched hand, now lowered and not so near his eyes. Matthew placed them gingerly on the vanity and produced a black smock to wrap around James neck.

“Would you like a shampoo and condition?” Matthew inquired, James could see Matthew staring at his curls thoughtfully.

“Sure.” James said reluctantly, knowing it was part of the process. Matthew raised his eyebrows but helped him up and guided him to the tubs with chairs in front of them. James lowered himself against the chilly edge of the tub, and Matthew ran the water just above his forehead.

“Let me know if it’s too hot or too cold,” Matthew informed James, as the water trickled within his thick hair. James took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Matthew’s fingers were careful, and they kneaded against his scalp as the chill of the shampoo was mixed in. James could feel himself drift away as the sensation of a stranger washing his hair lulled him to a foreign sense of security, something that was sort of lacking in his life lately. Before James’ mind could wander off to a memory he repressed, he heard Matthew’s voice in his ears. “Time to get back to my chair.”

James opened his eyes and stared up at Matthew, who was looking at him expectantly. He was holding a towel and seemed to be about to do something with it, but hesitated. James raised his eyebrows as sat up from the low chair. “That’s for me correct?”

“Oh, yes.” Matthew nodded distractedly and covered James’ soaked hair, ruffling the towel a little to dry it up.

James put his hand on the towel, brushing against Matthew’s for a moment, and held the ends so it wouldn’t slip off as he crossed the salon back to the chair he had first seen Matthew at. Matthew followed him hurriedly, apologizing about the towel, or the hands, or something. James honestly wasn’t paying attention, still lost in the blissful haze he experienced during the wash.

“Do your best and I’m sure it won’t be so bad.” James decided to say, as he sat down and pulled the towel off. Matthew stopped in front of James, his face flushed like he’d been running a mile at full sprint only to stop halfway through.

“You… mean the haircut? That you're definitely sure you still want? I was sort of joking when I mentioned a promise to your sister.” Matthew waved his hands dismissively at the mention of Lucie, and James rolled his eyes.

“Well I’m hardly going to walk out of here with my hair dripping over the sidewalk.” He chuckled and noticed how Matthew’s lips crinkled upwards from his dry tone, and whatever sudden nervous energy that he had seemingly disappeared.

“Your a piece of work Mr. Herondale,” Matthew put a hand on his hip, the other gliding over several pairs of scissors.

“Already? Wait till you have to keep sweeping my hair bunches long after I’m gone.” James retorted. “Besides, Lucie probably had some choice words about me, isn’t gossiping apart of your job?”

Matthew gasped in mock offense and put a hand to chest. “Et tu, Brute?”

“What?” James laughed, knowing the phrase but clueless to why Matthew had said it.

“Lucie accused me of the same thing at her first appointment, reducing my profession to nothing but being a collector of gossip.” Matthew explained, placing a dramatic hand to his forehead. “I finally see the family resemblance.”

“Seeing as you’ve done nothing but chatter instead of cutting I’ll say that’s a pretty accurate description.” James teased.

“So eager now?” Matthew flashed a grin and James let out a resigned sigh.

“Just get it out of my eyes.” James told him.

“Will do,” Matthew finally picked up a pair of scissors and a comb and went to work.

James wasn’t used to so many questions during the process; he was asked if he still wanted bangs, whether it was alright to cut over the ears, how far down his neck he still wanted it, where did his part normally fall? It wasn’t as though he didn’t know what he wanted in the past, it was simply he never felt more relaxed, instead of sitting terse and silent he was engaged with Matthew.

“So why a salon and not a barbershop?” James wondered.

“I love working with different styles, and long hair is easier for me to work with.” Matthew explained as he clipped another piece of hair to trim the one underneath. “I would ask you the same, but Lucie probably had much more to do with your decision than yourself, right?” He chuckled lightly as he worked.

“Hm, yeah. Lucie likes to meddle where she’s not needed. Though… if it wasn't for her I probably wouldn’t leave the house...” James realized he was exposing his life story to this stranger and went silent.

“Family can be tough, but we look out for each other.” Matthew nodded and continued snipping. “Growing up I looked after my father, he’s a genius but extremely clumsy and prone to have accidents.”

“Accidents?” James inquired.

“Well,” Matthew paused, concentrating on cutting the hair while holding it together with a comb. “He uses a wheelchair, from an accident he had before I was born, but he still does what he loves most, inventing. He’s always moving around his laboratory to do something, with science and engineering though sometimes things don’t go as planned. I once had put out a fire that was blazing on top of his head.”

“Wow,” James hadn’t expected Matthew to say so much, and the details made him feel a bit guilty, he never remembered ever helping his own father with his craft. He wondered if it was normal to go through such lengths for one’s parent.

“It’s finished.” Matthew announced after some silence, and James opened his eyes to face the mirror before him. He blinked a little and Matthew handed back his glasses. James hadn’t mentioned to Matthew that he was farsighted, and could see himself relatively clearly. He couldn’t help the slight smile curving his lips, his hair was still messy, but somehow Matthew managed to make it look stylish. James brought his glasses to his face and glanced up at Matthew, who was wiping his hands with a towel.

“It’s good.” James nodded. “Though, I’ve never used anything in my hair before.”

“Never?” Matthew echoed with awe and removed the smock. “I should have asked!”

“It’s alright,” James nodded standing up. “I never cared either way. It looks good.”

“Do you want to care?” Matthew folded the smock and placed it on the vanity.

“I wouldn’t know how,” he admitted with a shrug and reached up tugging on one of his locks. “The most important task is done though, I can finally tell Lucie I survived a haircut.”

“Survive you did.” Matthew chuckled and clapped his hands. “Congratulations Mr. Herondale.”

“James,” He amended to Matthew’s surprise. “Call me James.”

Lucie was delighted to hear from Matthew after her brother paid and left his establishment. Matthew was busying himself by scrawling over his appointment pad while Lucie gushed over the line about this milestone. Matthew initially agreed to this appointment as a joke, thinking Lucie was exaggerating her brother’s plight against getting a haircut. It was almost jarring to be reminded that some men strolled through London without even touching their hair, but when James had entered the door Matthew mistook him for a walk-in. His hair, what James had referred to as a mess, was windswept and lustrous, covering half his face with glasses peeking on his free side. If James hadn’t immediately sat on his couch and pulled out a book Matthew wouldn’t have suspected he was Lucie’s brother.

“He wasn’t terribly rude was he?” Lucie asked after she was finished squealing and cheering.

“Not at all,” Matthew laughed. “We bantered but nothing I haven’t already experienced with you.”

“Now you know where I get it from,” Lucie giggled. “Although Jamie tends to be more passive aggressive when he dislikes someone, so clearly you passed!”

“Was this a test?” Matthew drawled, “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Is it drastic? Or- I swear if you only cut a piece and let him leave I’ll…!”

“No no, I trimmed it quite a bit, and got it out of his eyes as requested and even touched it up with mousse.” Matthew explained, leaning against the counter stationed towards the door.

“MOUSSE?!” Lucie cackled and was muffled, Matthew suspected she was still at the office and covering her mouth with her hand.

“Yes, is that a problem?” Matthew inquired with a chuckle.

“I cannot believe he let you put product!” Lucie took a breath to calm her laughter. Matthew put his pen down and glanced back to check on his colleagues. Only one familiar person was left for her appointment, she gave Matthew a knowing look as her hair was being styled. Matthew rolled his eyes at her, she winked back at him, and then he turned his attention back to his pad to look occupied.

“Well you’re the one that recommended a salon, we have dozens of products at our disposal.” Matthew informed her.

“Oh I’m aware, and if I had referred a barbershop they would have chopped it all off and he wouldn’t speak to me for years!” Lucie countered.

“Are men truly that barbaric?” Matthew gasped.

“Indeed they are, lord knows why you are attracted to them.” Lucie teased.

“Men nor women cannot resist my charms, or my hair, not sure which is more effective.” Matthew shot back and they both laughed.

“Matthew if you don’t mind I need the counter space so Anna can pay me.” A clipped voice interrupted, and Matthew cast a coy smile at his oldest assistant, Barbara Lightwood.

“You really going to make your cousin pay?” Matthew quirked an eyebrow Barbara and then at the woman who smirked at him, Anna Lightwood. She was what those in the modern world considered androgynous, wearing a fine suit fitted for a man but still fashion forward. Her hair was slicked back on the sides, with a quaf of longer hair on top. Anna stood regally, basking in the attention as if it were her god given right, yet still humble enough to meet his eyes and smile.

“I am willing to help Barbara provide for her family.” Anna explained.

“Of course,” Matthew nodded, and winced when the voice of Lucie interrupted.

“Is that Anna? Matthew why didn’t you say something?”

Barbara casually brushed against Matthew to access the touchpad to process the payment. Matthew busied himself with telling Lucie that he would definitely let her know when Anna was free next time. He could feel Anna’s eyes on him, and his neck heated up a bit when Lucie went back to the topic at hand.

“Thank you Matthew, you don’t know how much it means to me that you helped Jamie.” she admitted.

“Helped? All I did was a trim,” Matthew rubbed his neck, his eyes going to his feet bashfully.

“I know.” Lucie sighed. “But every little thing helps you know?”

“Lucie…” Matthew could sense there was more to this than what she had told him but Lucie clicked her tongue.

“And my dinners up! Back to work!” She hung up before Matthew could reprimand her for calling him during her meal breaks.

“That woman, I have half a mind to order her food for tonight.” Matthew lamented for a moment, placing their old fashioned phone back with a clack!

“You should buy some for reclusive James as well.” Anna chimed in. Matthew’s eyes darted up to Anna, his face flushed even more, and Barbara laughed at the statement.

“So it’s not just me who noticed your obvious crush.” she teased as Matthew shook his head vehemently. “Don’t deny it!”

“He is… attractive.” Matthew admitted with a sigh. “But my finding a male attractive doesn’t mean I have a crush!”

“Was he hideous after the cut?” Anna inquired as she swiped her card.

“Excuse me?!” Matthew was scandalized that Anna would even suggest such a thing of his work. “He was beautiful!”

Anna and Barbara exchanged a look. Matthew realized belatedly what they were trying to do; the saying goes if you find someone unattractive after a haircut it was merely an aesthetic that appealed to you, but if you continued find them flawless after a do... it was more.

“Conspiracy!” Matthew accused. “I was the one to cut it, of course I’d make sure it would appeal to me!”

“What happened to the Matthew that is always critical of his work and strives to be better?” Barbara demanded to know.

“I never admit my flaws in front of customers,” Matthew pointed out.

“Ha! I am hardly a mere customer,” Anna, who was as close to him as family, reminded him. Matthew pouted and turned away from the patronizing women. He stared at the spot James had sat in waiting for his appointment and could feel the nervous flutters of his heart beating at the memory. He placed a hand over his eyes and let out a long, drawn out breath before turning back to face the two women still staring at him.

“Fine.” Matthew relented. “Still, it’s not like he’ll ever come back, and is probably straight. End of discussion!”

“But he’s-” Barbara began to say something that Matthew should have heard but was embarrassed enough as it is.

“Fin.” Matthew held his fingers together and zipped it across his face for emphasis before heading to the back room to take care of closing business.

Later that evening Matthew was locking up for the night, his eyes wandering up to stare at his decorative green carnations. He reached out and touched one, letting out a deep sigh before turning away and striding into street towards his home. He twirled his jangling keys in his hand as he weaved through the bustle of the end of the work day. His residence was a couple of rail stops away, so he stared wistfully out the window, with one thing on his mind, James Herondale.

It had been ages since he’d felt compelled to go out of his way to please a client, but seeing James and realizing he was the one Lucie had spoken to him about, he couldn’t help it. He wanted the man to have a positive experience with a haircut, but Matthew could also understand completely why James would be self conscious. A personality like that, one that seemed to shrink at being the center of attention and couldn't fathom being pampered, would probably be completely unaware of how gorgeous he really was. If his hair, with waves like black wool wasn’t enough, his eyes were a striking orchiroid, which were hidden by his wide dark glasses. When Matthew had trimmed his hair he made sure James’ face was framed just enough to continue being a shield, but with the option to be styled back in case James considered opening his face to the world. Though Matthew suspected the glasses also had a role in this, but he wasn't an optometrist.

Shaking his head, Matthew followed the crowd off of the rail and made his way up the stairs back to the streets. His stomach grumbled as he passed by the pub wafting the aroma of food from its windows on the way to his flat. He swiftly turned the corner and arrived at the entrance, and could hear the barks of an excited dog upstairs. He grinned and bounded up, hearing the scratches on his door as he worked to unlock that one too. The door swung open and a small, pudgy French Bulldog greeted Matthew with slobbery kisses. Matthew laughed and scooped up his darling, kissing her on the head as he entered the flat. “Evening Adele,” He greeted and was rewarded with more licks. “You wouldn't believe the day I’ve had.” Adele blinked slowly at him, not minding being cradled in his arms as he made his way to the kitchen. “I met Lucie’s brother, James…. And he is something…” After feeding and walking Adele, Matthew finally sat down to relax, sipping tea with his dog on his lap and rereading one of his favorite novels. He drowned out the noises of the streets as he became engrossed within the world on the pages...

The apartment was still and dark, the only illumination was peeking through the shades from the street lights. Low rumbling snores between Adele and Matthew echoed through the place, until an instistant buzzing coming from the coffee table woke Matthew out of his slumber. He rubbed his eyes, carefully sliding his precious pet off his lap, her limp body sank into the couch cushion comfortably. Matthew picked up his phone, scrolling through his various notifications.

“Thomas and Chris are back…” He mumbled to himself upon seeing a text and rubbed his eyes as he thumbed through his apps. His voicemail declared the number one, with a message waiting for him to listen to. He pressed it, and was surprised to see a awfully familiar number. “Bloody hell what does he want?”

“Matthew? It’s your brother, Charles. Look, I know its out of blue for me to call but it’s an emergency. You see… Father… He tried to do something ridiculous and wound up in the hospital again. Except this time… well it’s his head you see… Mum told me to call, she a bit distraught at the moment. You know how much she cherishes family... I’ve just called the girls as well-“

The phone slipped from Matthew’s grip as he put his head in his hands. He had to make arrangements right away he knew, but all Matthew wanted to do was scream. Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he took deep labored breaths to attempt to calm himself. Father is in good hands it’s just another …. incident ... nothing major … His nails dug into his scalp, the pain alerting him to the voice of his brother still droning on, but with the details of which hospital he was located at. Matthew wiped his eyes with his sleeves, as his shaky hand grasped his phone to listen again. He tuned out the beginning and with a pen and pad wrote down every important detail, and made note that at the moment his father was unconscious as the doctors tried to determine if he was concussed.

Matthew stood up, shoving his papers into his pocket, and running a hand through his hair, deflated as it was. He didn’t care and strode to his room to gather a overnight bag, toiletries, and his jacket. He immediately texted Thomas, Barbara Lightwood’s younger brother and good friend who just returned from a semester abroad with his other cousin, Christopher. The Lightwoods were in no way related to Matthew, but their parents had been close friends, and raised their families together like relatives would. He would understand Matthew’s situation the best out of anyone in the world, but he also needed a willing dog sitter.

“Adele!” Matthew called, whistling. Adele awoke and jumped, trotting over to Matthew and wiggling her butt since she did not have a tail. Matthew smiled shakily at her, scooping her up. “I have to go my darling… I’m sorry I can’t take you with me…” Adele licked the salt of his tears away, her round eyes boring into his with a knowing expression unfit for a canine. Matthew nodded and kissed the top of her head, before placing her down. His phone buzzed yet again, and Matthew sighed as he glanced at the response to his S.O.S.

I heard, but figured you were asleep. I’ll stay for Adele np. Call when you’re ready.

I’m heading out now, I’ll ttyl. Matthew texted back.

He slung his duffle bag over his shoulder, and after a thought, snatched a snapbill cap to cover his mess. Adele followed him dutifully, and when he reached the door he ruffled her head. “So long Adele.” She yipped and licked his hand reassuringly, and after one last look at his flat, Matthew turned away and shut the door behind him.

#galbinuscarnation #heronchild #Matthew Fairchild #james herondale #the last hours #the shadowhunter chronicles #Heronchild Hairdresser

[galbinuscarnation]

The Last of the Real Ones

Chapter 3

Matthew tossed breadcrumbs to the ducks by the enormous pond in Hyde Park. He sat languid on the grass, and his legs were sprawled out in front of him to prevent the ducks from getting too close. The park was always occupied by tourists and locals alike, but today was particularly cloudy, not that it stopped Londoners from enjoying the outdoors. Matthew’s heart yearned to be able to appreciate mother nature’s beauty around him, but his mind continued to race. If only he could escape his current circumstance with his craft, but someone (His name was Charles Buford Fairchild) had to publicly tell the paparazzi the location of his salon, almost as if he thought he was doing his younger brother a favor. Matthew sighed, staring blankly at a duck that was brave enough to waddle closer to peck the bits by his feet.

No, Matthew certainly didn’t appreciate the “free advertising” that he knew his brother would justify his words with. Then again, he and Charles never saw eye to eye, and now with this trying time Charles was trying to build a persona of being a family man for reelection. At least, Matthew was certain that was why Charles was acting much bossier, asking more invasive questions about his life, and simply pushing Matthew’s boundaries with the aforementioned stunt. The salon was a sanctuary; a place that Matthew could express his knowledge without judgement, he could collect stories from his clients that would entertain him for days after. He was able to transform a person’s day by the rewarding smile on their faces, from the work Matthew poured his heart and soul into. His politician brother may have been elected by the people, but it was Matthew that heard their stories.

“She was right, you are wallowing.” a voice that Matthew hadn’t encountered in a month spoke, interrupting his thoughts. Matthew arched an eyebrow and glanced up at James Herondale with a practiced smile.

“Whatever are you talking about, Jamie?” He questioned. It was James turn to arch an eyebrow.

“I gave you permission to call me James, not my childish nickname.” He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Matthew. Matthew let out a short laugh and shook his head.

“Habit, I talk to your sister on a daily basis, it’s kind of ingrained in my mind now.” He explained, pointing to his noggin.

“Daily?” James practically squawked, starling the ducks and they quacked in protest. James turned his attention to the ducks with a sudden challenging smirk, and Matthew starred as James produced some seeds from his pockets and tossed them. “Ha!”

“Did I miss something, you looked as if you were going to challenge that duck to a duel.” Matthew commented and scooted his rear up a bit as the ducks flapped their wings and viciously pecked the ground.

“No, my father hates ducks, so I make every effort to pamper and offer my love in spite.” James smiled fondly at the ducks, and Matthew’s heart ached at the word Father.

“I’m sure Mr. Herondale will be displeased with your affections then,” Matthew attempted to joke, and even to his ears it sounded flat and tired. James crouched down to Matthew’s level and picked at the grass with his fingers.

“Perhaps…” He murmured and glanced up at Matthew, his eyes peeking through the glasses and bangs that put their best effort to obscure them. “I’m not very good at this Matthew so I’m going to tell you that Anna sent me to find you, but I didn’t have the foresight to ask what to do when I did…”

“She wants to know that I am okay and haven’t flung myself into the pond to become one with the water fowl,” Matthew sighed. “I’ll call her as soon as I get home, you didn’t need to come all this way, I’m a stranger to you.”

“This is true, but…” James grimaced. “I was by the salon...there was a crowd and I couldn't get through… your brother was present, and Anna.” Matthew winced when James mentioned Charles’ presence. “After he left Anna told me you’d be here, and locked the salon. Besides I don’t have much to do these days.”

Matthew ran a hand through his hair, combing through the bits with product and adding a more naturally haphazard style to it. “That’s so thoughtful...of both of you. I’m sorry you had to encounter my... less than thoughtful brother.”

“He said he wanted to give you a ride…” James sat on the grass finally, and gave Matthew a sympathetic glance, the kind of look that everyone had been offering lately.

“Yes,” Matthew nodded. “I have to go on with my days though, I can’t close my business until we get word of improvement, the only thing that matter to me is that my father’s alive, he’s awake, it’s just a precaution that he’s still in the hospital…” Matthew normally wouldn’t’ve rambled on about his family’s personal business, but he had the inexplicable sense that he could trust James, that he was someone that could listen to his woes without judgement or offering obligatory solutions. “I have to go home to my darling, make sure there’s food, pay my bills. I can’t… I can’t stop my life…” Matthew could feel his lip trembling and he covered his mouth to ironically stop himself from speaking.

“Matthew,” James reached out, but pulled his hand back a moment before placing it on Matthew’s shoulder. “Anna told me not to keep everything in… Now that I think about it, that's good advice.”

“I know…” Matthew coughed and rested his forehead on his palm. “But it hurts.” He sniffled and was surprised to see a tissue in his line of sight. He took it, giving James an apologetic look before he blew his nose. “Thanks…”

“I do have a question.” James asked after handing Matthew more tissues so he could dab his eyes. “Anna seemed awfully familiar with your brother and about you, why is that?”

“Anna?” Matthew chuckled a little. “She’s practically family. All of them are, in fact.”

“All as in the Lightwoods?” James sounded incredulous and Matthew glanced at James. “They’re my cousins.”

“Yes I’m aware,” Matthew told him carefully while watching James expression grow more confused and apprehensive. “Lucie filled me in after she realized the connection.” He offered as an explanation.

“How much of our lives does Lucie tell you?” James wondered. Matthew tilted his head to think about it, eyeing James as the man eyes bore into the ducks. Lucie and James were opposites, Matthew observed, when it came to discussing their private lives.

“She mostly tells me about her day? Fascinating stuff about the process of publishing. We talk about the Lightwoods a lot too.” Matthew settled with saying. James sighed and gave Matthew a desperate look.

“Has she spoken about me at all?” Matthew could tell it took great effort on James part to ask that, and now he noticed that despite his bold entrance, James was back creeping into a shell. Matthew put aside his own life’s difficulties for the moment, after all he was curious about James, had often asked about him even. Now Matthew was in front of him in the worst kind of circumstances, yet, he could see through James’ effort to find him that not all hope was lost. It wasn't a mere coincidence that they were six degrees separated in their social circles.

“She’s concerned about you. She never specified why it is but you’re back at home with your parents, and said that the haircut I gave you had been a tremendous help.” he admitted that much to James, owed it to him in fact.

The tension in James’ shoulders loosened, and he sighed deeply. “She was right.” He nodded and gave Matthew a wary glance. “I only ask because… your brother seemed to know about me. It was unsettling.”

“Charles?” Matthew couldn't believe his ears. As if his older brother would take an interest in someone unless it benefited him in some way. “Why?” James clasped his hands on his lap and looked away from Matthew. “What I’m about to tell you if something you’d have found out eventually… now that I know how close you are to that side of my family.

I was engaged to a woman named Grace, and we were in the middle of wedding plans when she told me… that she didnt love me. She longer wished to marry me. The problem was, we had already sent out invitations, booked our venue, ordered the food, everything. She left me in the dust to take care of the fall out, including telling our families. It was… humiliating, to say the least. I can’t help but think of how disappointed my parents are that I’ve spent my savings on this, instead of investing in my future.”

Now that James mentioned it, Matthew had heard some talk about a wedding from the Lightwoods. Thomas himself had asked Matthew if he had any expensive suits he could borrow, the minimalist he was. At James last sentence though, Matthew shook his head and reached out to clasped a hand on his shoulder. “I may not know much about your parents, but I know this, they want your happiness. Whatever money that was spent is inconsequential.”

“I could have gotten an education like they wanted,” James continued, shaking his head at Matthew. “It was the money they had saved up for that purpose. Of course, I had begged and convinced them that she was the one, that it was an investment to my future, they of all people would understand.” James shoulders shook and Matthew realized he was crying. “I’m… a failure. I’ve failed them.”

Matthew’s mouth parted, but recognized that this wasn’t an explanation for him, it was James finally letting go of the torment and closedness Matthew has witness in their first meeting. Matthew did what he knew was right, he wrapped his arms around him and squeezed. James froze in his hold, but after a moment rested his head on his shoulder. Matthew held James, forgetting about the ducks, the people walking the paths in the distance, about the darkening early evening sky. Matthew could hear James’ breaths evening out and eventually both of them pulled away. James quickly fished into his bag for more tissues as Matthew watched. He sat next to James, giving him the time he needed to collect himself.

“Why does your father hate ducks?” Matthew inquired, as the ducks waddled and quacked away.

“Childhood trauma…” James croaked, his voice still hoarse from crying. He coughed and Matthew gave James a reassuring smile. This seemed to brighten James, since he sat up straighter and gave a small smile back. “He claims they’re cannibals.”

“Cannibals?” Matthew laughed, wondering how on earth one would go about obtaining that information. “If you feed a duck anything it’ll try to eat it! That's what makes them animals.”

“Try telling that to him.” James shook his head. Matthew chuckled a bit more, and finally noticed how dark it was becoming. He let out a sigh and leaned back into the grass.

“The park closes at dusk, and I must get back to my flat,” He reluctantly informed James.

“Oh, then you should go.” James nodded, glancing at Matthew’s position. “Although… you look as if you’re about to sleep right there.”

“The grass is so soft,” Matthew pretended to close his eyes and laid down on his back. “Perhaps a short nap is in order.”

“Matthew,” James warned. Matthew let out a forced yawn, and his shoulders shook from James’s hands. “You can’t sleep here!”

“Oh alright, since you insist Jamie.” Matthew opened his eyes to give James a teasing smirk. He was not expecting to be confronted with James’ face mere inches away from his.

“James,” he huffed, correcting Matthew as he blinked up at him. Even as the daylight was dimming, Matthew could still see eyes of molten gold staring at him, and although they were a bit red, and nearly covered by bangs, Matthew found himself becoming lost in their light.

“Right,” Matthew cleared his throat as James pulled away, standing up and adjusting the messenger bag on his shoulder. Matthew got up and dusted himself off, checking his phone for the time… if he quickly went to relieve Thomas from dog sitting he’ll have time for a short visit to the hospital.

“So long,” James said, and Matthew’s head snapped up at the realization that James was leaving so soon.

“Wait!” He clutches James’ sleeve and received a startled look. “Wait… would you like to… come with me to my flat?”

“To… your flat?” James repeated, and started shaking his head. Matthew’s grip tightened, he had no idea why this anxiety came over him, but from James’ tug he realized he was holding too tightly. He released James with an apology.

“Sorry, you must be anxious to get home yourself.”

“Not really,” James admitted with a sigh. “I… can't confront my parents at the moment ”

“Understandable.” Matthew nodded, attempting to mask his sudden disappointment.

“I… would be willing to drop you off?” James told him. Matthew stared at James for a beat too long before breaking out a grin he couldn't contain.

“Great!” He clapped James’ back, and James chuckled at his giddiness.

“Only because you looked as if I kicked your puppy.” James teased.

“If you kick my puppy I will smite you!” Matthew threatened and James laughed.

“I wouldn't dare!”

Matthew and James arrived at the flat, and Matthew heard the barks of Adele greeting him. He put the key in the knob, but paused, with the sudden realization that he forgot to mention something to James. As he opened his mouth to explain, the door swung open to reveal Thomas, looking dishevelled as if he had been asleep. Matthew froze as Thomas regarded him tiredly, before his eyes landed on James.

“Oh hullo James, long time no see.�� Thomas greeted, rubbing his neck bashfully but giving his distant cousin a friendly smile. James was stiff and silent and Matthew silently cursed himself for his recklessness. A blur of black and white bounded between Thomas’ legs, and Thomas chuckled as Adele sniffed James’ and Matthew’s legs as well, before stretching her paws up on Matthew.

“Well I should be getting home…” James said quietly, and Matthew scooped Adele up so she wouldn’t run around everywhere. He gave Thomas a helpless glance, which Thomas raised an eyebrow at but continued to face James with his friendly posture.

“Really? The kettle’s still warm, you could stay for a cuppa.” Thomas offered, and Matthew smiled gratefully at Thomas for at least attempting to amend the awkwardness that transpired.

“No really, my parents will be worried,” James glanced between Thomas and Matthew with a wistful stare that Matthew couldn’t interpet. “Enjoy your tea…” With that James briskly turned and headed down the steps. Matthew held Adele tightly as he watched James’ retreating back, and she licked his face sensing his queasiness. When the door downstairs shut, Matthew sagged against the wall with a frustrated groan, startling Adele and she leapt out of his hold, thudding on the ground loudly. Thomas ushered her into the apartment and shut the door, before facing Matthew with a bemused expression.

“Matthew? What was that about?” He asked kindly, and leaned against the wall on his shoulder. “James was always aloof, but that was weird even for him.”

“I don’t know!” Matthew wasn’t sure how much to tell Thomas, who was one of the people he never kept things from. He never disclosed that his thoughts wandered back to the memory of James, once he was away from the turmoil of the hospital, and had the energy that he lately almost never had once he was home. He hardly had the words to describe his instantaneous need to find out more about him, about how he subtly managed to get bits of information from Lucie, who was only too eager to offer, but then would immediately backtrack because he wanted to find out from James himself. How he had secretly been keeping his salon open all month in hopes that James would wander back, even if he couldn’t be there in person on his father’s worsened days. How despite only meeting him once, Matthew was completely, and utterly, under the spell of James open and laughing eyes as they conversed, when the man had entered his space guarded in spirit, and hiding behind his spectacles and books.

“Are you certain? Or you don’t want me to know?” Thomas saw right through Matthew, though how much he saw, Matthew wouldn’t know. He let out a deep sigh and put a hand on his forehead, he couldn’t keep this up even if he tried.

“I’m sick,” He began. Thomas raised his eyebrows and gave him an expectant glance to continue. “...as in lovesick.”

“Ah, well that can be fixed easily- Wait, what does that have to do with James…? Oh.” Thomas stared wide eyed at Matthew for a moment to digest this information, and then shoved his shoulder. “Lovesick? Really Matthew?”

“It’s no joke, I am gravely afflicted.” Matthew continued, and Thomas grinned at him.

“James huh?” He then looked concerned and leaned in to whisper. “Are you sure? He’s...well you see he was recently in a serious relationship…”

“He told me,” Matthew sighed, and stared at his hand for a moment, before placing it down. “I think… I’ve been too forward. I haven’t given him any time to adjust… I’m shameless.”

“How long have you known each other? You always take him to your flat?” Thomas asked genuinely, trying to make sense of the situation. “Also stop that, you’re not shameless, you’re passionate.”

“No, in fact tonight was my second encounter, and I basically dragged him over here without giving it any thought Thomas!” Matthew groaned.

“Well…” Thomas looked sheepish. “Then you may have a different problem on your hands and I’m afraid I didn’t help any.”

“What could you possibly mean?” Matthew stared at Thomas, how could he blame himself for something that he only just found out about?

“Well, consider how this may look to a man you’ve been ‘forward’ with. Being invited to your flat, together, with your dog, and arriving only to find a man not related to you sleeping on your couch and caring for your beloved pet. Also, said person happens to be related to him and knows about his romantic history.”

Matthew knew where this was going before Thomas even finished and slid on the floor defeated. “Bloody hell, I really messed this up!”

Thomas slid down to sit next to him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Want me to contact Lucie? Maybe get James’ number to apologize?”

“Thomas, you are perfect,” Matthew patted Thomas’ face, who scrunched up his wide nose in confusion. “But not necessary.” Matthew took his own phone out and began to dial Lucie Herondale’s number. “That’s what I need to do.”

“Oh, then I can go home now? To sleep?” Thomas asked Matthew hopefully. Desperate scratches and whines came from behind the door and both Matthew and Thomas stood up. Matthew nodded at Thomas, phone in his ear, and waved his good friend goodbye, before opening his door and shutting it. He was going to make this up to James, as a new friend, instead of being lead astray by his selfish wants for something more. James deserved better, he deserved to be allowed time for that kind of a decision, Matthew decided.

#heronchild #Matthew Fairchild #james herondale #the last hours #the shadowhunter chronicles #Heronchild Hairdresser

[galbinuscarnation]

The Last of the Real Ones

Chapter 4

James walked into his parents guest room after that exhausting ordeal. He apologized for his tardiness, but they reassured him that he was an adult and didn't need to apologize about a non existent curfew. His mother had kindly pulled him aside, since she noticed he seemed more like how he acted when he had first come home a few months ago. He told her it was only a bad day but he could see in her eyes her worry for him and couldn’t bear it any longer. He informed her he was going to sleep without supper and did just that.

He collapsed onto the mattress, burrowing his face into the pillow. His mind wandered back to his absurd afternoon, how going out to lunch with Lucie launched him on a chain of events no one would anticipate. James curled up, closing his eyes, and conjured up the image of Matthew holding his adorable dog, but tensed at remembering Thomas’ presence. He had already confessed to Matthew about Grace, and even teared up in front of Anna, but she was like an older sister. Thomas, he hardly knew these days, their lives moved in different circles and they never had any real opportunity the older they became. It seemed that Matthew, once again, was flawless at maintaining a relationship with James’ own extended family better than he ever could… whatever that relationship might be. James rolled over and groaned, covering his face in his hands. He wasn't getting to sleep like this, he decided, and reached into his bag on the floor to pull out his novel. He read late into the night, finally drifting off with his glasses crooked on his nose and book laid open on his chest.

The next morning James rose, his book collapsing off of him as he adjusted his glasses. He could hear the sounds of his family, and glanced outside to find it was fairly early in the morning. He sighed and trudged out of the room to the flight of stairs leading down to the ground floor towards the kitchen. Lucie was there shoving toast in her mouth and smearing jam all over her face. She perked up at her brother’s arrival and swallowed, wiping her face.

“Jamie!” She greeted, and James went to the coffee machine to brew a strong cup, he sensed he would need it at Lucie’s expectant stare.

“Morning,” he answered and sat across from her as he waited. Lucie continued chewing on her toast, having the decency to wait for James’ cup to be ready. Once he got up and went back to sip on the black drink she pushed her plate away.

“I heard a lot happened yesterday…” She began and James grunted and affirmative, since he was still sipping. “I’m sorry you got caught up in that.”

“Why do you keep apologizing for things you haven’t done?” James sighed.

“I feel… responsible. You were only there because you had lunch with me, you only met Matthew because of me.” Lucie explained. James stared at his coffee at the mention of Matthew. He was now rested, and thinking more clearly from caffeine, as realized he was over analyzing the situation yesterday. Matthew hadn’t meant any harm, it was James that awkwardly retreated from the situation, misinterpreting Matthew’s actions as something more. More what? James hadn’t a clue but he blindly followed Matthew home with a faint hope of establishing a friendship, and becoming panicked when it turned out Thomas was there as well.

“I still fail to see how any of that warrants an apology from you.” James reiterated.

“Because… well… you know I’m friends with Matthew, but if you aren’t comfortable with it I will stop.” Lucie told him. James shook his head and gave Lucie an exasperated look.

“Lucie, don’t do something so rash for my sake. Matthew is one of the kindest friends you’ve made,” He sighed and took a gulp of coffee.

“You still think Matthew is kind?” Lucie’s eyes were wide with confusion. James nodded.

“Of course. He’s a bit theatrical and overbearing but overall he has a kind heart.”

“Wow, okay.” Lucie leaned closer to James, and her sudden scrutiny made him lean back.

“What?”

“Matthew called me last night, he asked me for your number. He said he really messed up and wanted to talk to you if you’d let him. I told him I’d talk to you about it first.” Lucie explained. “I don't know what happened but I thought it had to do with why mum and dad were worried when I came home and found out you were sleeping.”

“Oh…” James brows knitted together as he contemplated what this meant. Matthew still wanted to speak to him? Matthew thinks he messed something up? James was the one who left him in the dust. “It wasn’t Matthew’s fault.”

“I can see it in your face, that something happened between you two.” Lucie pressed. “Matthew is besides himself and you aren't even assigning blame.”

“Why would he be ‘besides himself’, when he did nothing wrong?” James wondered aloud.

“Maybe you could ask him yourself,” Lucie scrawled in the journal she always had around and tore a small slip out. She slid it over to James, who peered at it to see a number.

“This… you really think I should call him?” James asked, glancing back up at Lucie warily. She gave him a smile and nod of encouragement. “... okay.” He pulled out his phone from his pajamas’ pockets and dialed the number. He waited, aware of Lucie’s eyes watching him, and the phone was picked up at the first ring.

“Hullo this most certainly is NOT Matthew Fairchild,” Matthew greeted with a hint of annoyance. James glanced at the clock, declaring the still early hour the morning.

“Uh Matthew, it’s James,” he said before Matthew could hang up. There was a gasp and rustling sound and an apology towards someone named Adele, and James looked at Lucie helplessly, and she shrugged.

“So sorry Jamie! I’ve been getting non stop calls from journalists, I can't even imagine how they got my number!”

“Oh,” James chuckled with relief that Matthew wasn’t annoyed with him and noticed Lucie visibly relaxing as well. “You realize your number is listed on your website, one you supposedly designed?”

“For clients!” Matthew exclaimed and James could almost see the smile on Matthew’s face at his teasing and it was almost as if nothing had transpired yesterday. “Also Christopher helped me with that, I need to ask him how to filter out numbers on this thing.”

“Oh yes, he’s very good with that stuff.” James agreed about his eccentric cousin. “Or maybe get a new phone?”

“In this economy? I think not!” Matthew laughed. James laughed with him, momentarily forgetting his sister was still watching. She cleared her throat and pointed to the phone, as if you say ‘aren’t you going to ask?’ towards James. He flushed at remembering her presence and also cleared his throat, interrupting Matthew’s contagious laughter.

“Lucie gave me your number, she told me you wanted mine?” He formulated his question awkwardly and winced. There was a pause on the other line and he heard a sigh.

“Yes… I wanted to apologize for yesterday,” Matthew began. “It wasn’t fair to you.”

“What wasn’t fair? What are you talking about?” James wondered. There was another pause on the line.

“...oh, that you had told me what went on and then I dragged you to my flat and Thomas was there. You looked petrified and I was foolish not to realize what that had done to you until it was too late.” Matthew admitted. It was James’ turn to be silent, and he looked towards Lucie who couldn’t quite hear what Matthew had said and was staring expectantly at him. “Jamie? I’m awfully sorry, I hope it didn’t…. didn’t put a damper in our friendship...”

“Of course not…” James murmured, stunned by the word friendship. He felt a touch of queasiness, and was finding it difficult to breath. Lucie immediately noticed James sudden mood change and had gotten up to take James phone. He stubbornly held it to his ear and scoot away from her.

“James?” Matthew’s voice was laced with concern, and James realized he hadn’t sounded very reassuring at all. “You don’t have to force yourself… I… I fear I’ve been a bit a-aggressive I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you wish...” James couldn’t stand to hear Matthew stammering and unsure of himself because of his lack of communication skills.

“No!” He spoke loudly, startling Lucie and possibly Matthew’s eardrums. “No Matthew you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me so far, I don’t need space I need understanding when I colossally misinterpret a situation because I’m bloody awkward as hell. You have been nothing but patient and I’m the one who is sorry that you ever felt that you had done something wrong.”

Lucie blinked at James and nodded herself. “I’m going to… talk to Cordelia, I realized I need to call her!” She couldn’t mask her giddy smile as she patted James’ head and practically dashed out of the room to give him privacy. James covered his face in embarrassment and sincerely hoped he hadn’t scared Matthew off like how the other man though he had done yesterday.

“Jamie,” Matthew reverted back to the nickname, and James found he honestly did not mind when Matthew called him that. “You really think that?”

“Yes.” James said finally. “I do.”

“Wow, alright then.” Matthew chuckled, and there was movement. “Alright alright darling hold on.”

“Am I interrupting something?” James wondered.

“Breakfast for Adele,” Matthew informed him. “She has been eagerly awaiting her bowl of kibble!”

“Oh,” James realized that Matthew was talking about his dog. “Sorry I didn’t get to properly get acquainted with her...”

“There will be other opportunities.” Matthew assured him, and James couldn’t help but smile.

There were other opportunities indeed. Once they had cleared up the misunderstanding James was able to make plans with Matthew, and they even included spending time with his cousins. Thomas had apologized about the other day and James told him not to worry about it. James found himself spending more and more time out of the house, with visits to the salon, and to Thomas’s parents, where he and Christopher were staying during their university break. Sometimes he engaged with them about their concentrations, Christopher was always working on some kind of program, constantly engrossed in his laptop he built, but was willing to answer any curiosities James had. Thomas was on the path to being a nurse practitioner, and was currently sending applications to different offices to get field experience.

Even though James currently wasn’t pursuing any kind of degree, or career at the moment, the Lightwoods didn’t seem to mind. They didn’t have any expectations about what sort of life James was going to have, and it may have been due to the fact that they were technically on vacation and knew about what James had gone through in months past. He had assumed that his familial peers would stare at him with judgement, of a young man that wasted his time over ‘love’ instead of becoming a productive member of society. No, it seemed that when Thomas and Christopher were concerned, they had no such expectations, they simply appreciated James’ presence.

While James was enjoying time getting to know his family again, he still felt a tug in his heart to spend time with Matthew. After his lunches with Lucie, he would stop by the salon, which the crowd quickly lost interest in when more juicy celebrity gossip emerged. Sometimes Matthew was so busy that the didn’t get much of a chance to talk, but James always had a book in his hand, and would sneak glances as Matthew worked. He was always in awe at Matthew’s ability to entertain his clients while working delicately with hair. Sometimes James was so engrossed with his novels that Matthew would sit down to tell him it was time to close up and they couldn’t have him loitering around on his nice couch. Those were the nights James walked Matthew to his flat, and spent the evenings playing with Adele the french bulldog. He had even offered to watch her, since he knew Matthew had to get to the hospital and Thomas would had already gone home.

“He’s doing a lot better, but his mind has always been unique.” Matthew said one day, as he changed out of his self inflicted uniform of a dress shirt and vest with dress pants. James looked away, flushed, but then chuckled when Adele licked his face with her stinky breath.

“Usually if it’s not life threatening one is sent home even with a concussion…” James mentioned offhandedly.

“Well…” Matthew sighed, and James could see he was now dressed in stylish but casual jeans and a t-shirt. “He’s in a controlled environment, and he isn’t bedridden so they moved him to a residential wing.”

“Residential?” James paused his petting, and Adele snuggled into his chest instead.

Matthew sighed once more and sat on the couch next to James. He rubbed his legs and shook his head as if he were having a silent conversation within himself. James braced himself for the information that had been nagging at him for some weeks now. “He have severe amnesia…. They aren’t sure his mind will be as brilliant as it once was. They’re making preparations to make my mother the permanent CEO… they’re constantly monitoring his results from the hospital…some of them have different ideas though, still hoping my father can still run the company.”

“Oh…” James stared at Matthew in disbelief. “They? Who’s they?”

“The board,” Matthew rolled his eyes. “They’re constantly bothering father, as if he doesn’t have enough to deal with hardly remembering anything they want him to remember… That is why I visit in the evenings, it’s less crowded. It’s easier on father to see me then, I hope.”

It didn’t occur to James until he heard the crack in Matthew’s voice just how devastating the situation was. James had a question burning in his mind, and hesitated.

“How much does he remember?” he asked softly. Matthew’s face crumpled, and James wished he hadn’t asked. James reached out his hand, maybe to place it on Matthew’s knee in comfort, but Matthew latched onto it as if he was struggling to upright in his seat.

“He remembers Mother, recalls having Charles… but the majority of his memories of of last twenty five years were….gone…” Matthew rasped, and James gasped.

“What?” he stared at Matthew with a newfound urge to protect him from the horrors he was hearing. Matthew’s father didn’t remember his own family? He didn’t remember Matthew? He tightened his grip on Matthew’s hand and even Adele noticed her owner’s distress and perked her head up. “That’s…awful… I’m so sorry Matthew…” “Thanks,” Matthew’s voice shook and he wiped his eyes, letting go of James’ hand. “I think we’re helping him with our visits. He slowly recalling some things, random memories.” Matthew frowned and stared at the floor. “The board have been pushing to get him back into the office, they believe being immersed in the environment will trigger some knowledge he has about what his future inventions. As if they don’t have documentation of his works, and various assistants that could decipher his blueprints. They don’t care about how proud he got when he remembered that the twins were born, or how he attended Charles Buford’s high school graduation… We fear if we let him come home they’ll take it as a sign that he is well enough to go back. It’s almost as if they’ve forgotten the company’s mission...”

“Do you think that he’s ready to go back?” James asked. Matthew nodded solemnly. “What’s the company mission?”

“It’s to provide accessibility to those who need it,” Matthew laughed bitterly. “They began as a company that manufactured prosthetics, chairs, and other everyday things that were made to be more accessible. They supposedly campaign for all disabilities, but the board has completely failed to be accommodating for my father when he needs it to most.”

James nodded and lifted up Adele, offering her to Matthew. He gave James a grateful smile and held her in his arms, burying his face in her short fur. James allowed Matthew the time to steady his breathing with the comfort of his dog.

“You should probably get going if you’re going to make it in time.” James mentioned after a moment of companionable silence. “I’m so tired Jamie,” Matthew admitted, and let go of Adele, who trotted away, having received her dose of affection for the evening. He sank back on the couch and gave James a rueful smile. “Forgive me for not being the dutiful son tonight, you’re free to go home.”

“I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me,” James told Matthew, and he meant it. He would stay as long as possible, just to see Matthew’s face brighten up from his presence, instead of diving into despair about his father and his company. Matthew’s hazel eyes light up at his offer, and suddenly collapsed himself upon James' lap, his head nestled against his chest. James let out an undignified noise and stared at Matthew, who had closed his eyes and was snuggling against him. “Have you gone mad?”

“I fear I am one with Adele-kind, I require much pampering and slumber.” Matthew snickered. After the shock of being used as a pillow, James let out a resigned sigh and reached for the book he had left on the end table. He opened it up, and snuck a glance at Matthew before beginning the passage he left off on. He noticed the faint smile on Matthew’s lips, and even though he knew Matthew couldn’t see he smiled back.

James blinked himself awake, squinting at the window displaying the rising dawn. He blearily looked around, slowly realizing he was on a couch that didn’t belong to his parents, with a dog he didn’t own upon his stomach instead of Matthew…

James shot up, and Adele yawned before scampering off his disruptive body. He looked around the flat, and heard noises coming from a corner in the direction of the kitchen. The smell of coffee and food wafted to the living area and he got up, his bare feet padding on the floor. He heard Matthew whistling and saw him cooking eggs on the stove. One hand was using a spatula to mix the eggs, the other was holding a mug with a tea bag, and he sipped between whistles before noticing James. James raised a hand in greeting and Matthew grinned back. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah...actually I did.” James nodded and stepped closer to observe the cooking. He noticed that coffee was brewing on the stove with an old fashioned glass brewer. He stared in fascination at the bubbling blackness, and the steam rising out of the opening on top.

“You drink coffee, right?” Matthew asked. James nodded and leaned casually on the counter.

“Yes, usually a cup in the morning and tea throughout the day.” He told Matthew. “I like the caffeine rush.” “Traitor,” Matthew teased, “What kind of British are you?”

“My mum’s American, and my father’s Welsch technically,” James shrugged and smirked back. “I’m very well rounded.”

“So it seems,” Matthew laughed and put down his mug to transfer the eggs to a couple of dishes.

James reached for a mug Matthew had left out and poured himself his coffee.“Besides, you have the ancient coffee brewer.”

“Vintage!” Matthew corrected. “but you’re right, I drink coffee too. How can people function without it?” “Sounds like you have an addiction,” James said and Matthew pushed him with his elbow. “Shut up!” he laughed, and James couldn’t help but stare. He never seen Matthew like this, with bed head sticking out in odd places but still looked on purpose because he hadn’t showered yesterday’s product out. He was still wearing last night’s clothes, but had a thin robe over it as if he had gotten cold. His eyes were still a bit drooping from the early hour, but held a spark within them for a new day, and his body movements were relaxed and inviting. James mouth went dry, and he swallowed, suddenly feeling the need to divert his eyes before Matthew noticed his oogling. Matthew was still chuckling as he picked up the plates and brought them to the small table. “I don’t have any meat or anything at the moment, but there’s bread for toast somewhere?”

“No, you’ve done more than enough,” James voice came out rough and he coughed to mask it. “Thanks for the meal.”

Matthew came up to James with a worried knit on his brows. “Are you sick?” he asked, and placed a hand on James’ forehead. James blushed from the touch and stepped away. “You are warm…”

“I’m fine, I’m always warm.” James assured Matthew and ventured to the table. He smiled faintly at the breakfast, clutching his mug in both of his hands to hide their sudden shakiness. The set up was very domestic, James had failed to notice that the napkins and cutlery has been set earlier, and there was even a small vase as a centerpiece with a familiar green flower inside. It was all very sweet, and James could almost pretend that this was fine; spending the morning with Matthew, eating breakfast at his carefully set up table, chattering and laughing like the good friends they have become. The only problem was his heart, it ached at the familiarity of the situation, how he shared a table with someone else once upon a time. How that was a time where he was so blinded by devotion he was caught off guard when he fell through the cracks.

What he knew now, was that the fondness he was developing for Matthew was more than a new friend should be feeling. His desire to spend time with Matthew wasn’t a platonic need, it was a raw and suddenly desperate longing for more. He wanted more nights like the previous, with Matthew expressing affection without a care, but James fond himself fearful of returning it; fearful that if he extended out his hand out of the pit he’d fallen into that Matthew wouldn’t take hold. He feared that if he said something to Matthew, he would receive a pitying but kind smile from him, and be told that no, it wasn’t like that. He knew that if he experience that from Matthew that his already broken heart would snap in half and he would never recover. Everything would be fine if he didn’t pursue this, he decided, but his revelation would be in the back of his mind, dormant until the time was right.

#heronchild #Matthew Fairchild #james herondale #the last hours #the shadowhunter chronicles #Heronchild Hairdresser

[galbinuscarnation]

The Last of the Real Ones

Chapter 2

“Pass the salt please,” Lucie held her hand out before her brother, as they sat at a cafe table at a restaurant outside her workplace.James flicked his fingers at her and she huffed. “Jamie, I didn’t mean your arse!”

James snorted and finally passed the salt to his little sister, who was glaring at him while aggressively salting her salad. “Lucie, I think you’ve gotten lettuce on your salt.”

“James I am literally this close to throttling your insufferable neck,” Lucie threatened, her blue eyes squinting dangerously.

“I don’t see what the problem is, wouldn’t you rather I be ‘enjoying the sunshine’, which i remind you, doesn’t exist in London.” James ran a hand across his bangs, and narrowed his eyes at his sister’s reconsidering look.

“When was the last time you got a cut again?” she inquired suddenly.

“Dunno, less than a month ago?” James shrugged. “It’s fine, it’s not in my eyes or anything.”

“But it’s getting there,” Lucie pressed, before chewing on her lettuce. James shook his head and took a sip of tea. “Maybe if you call Matthew…”

“He’s probably busy.” James interrupted, staring at his tea. Lucie frowned, but nodded.

“It wouldn’t hurt to call him.” Lucie told James. James stared at Lucie’s peluntant expression and put down his tea.

“What aren’t you telling me Lucie?” He asked.

Lucie shook her head and bit her lip. “It’s nothing, I mean, compared to what we’ve heard.”

“About Branwell’s accident?” James elaborated.

“Yes,” Lucie took a deep breath. “I was kind of hoping…. You would befriend Matthew.”

If James had still been drinking he probably would’ve sputtered out his tea, instead he choked on the air and coughed. Lucie passed her chilled water towards him, and he took a gulp before getting his bearings. “What?!”

“I know you’re socially awkward Jamie, but spare me.” Lucie chuckled nervously, “When I met Matthew he was a delight. I passed by his salon numerous times and was so curious that I had to take a look. He’s so relatable, he loves books.” James nodded, his sister would always warm up to fellow book lovers. “I made sure to become a regular, whether I felt like having a do to look more professional, or even to simply chat. When...when mum told me that you had come back home I felt so guilty. Here I was, flourishing in my field, spending my free time with friends and pampering myself in salons while my brother was suffering in silence.”

“Lucie,” James began, rubbing his temples. Lucie was heading towards dangerous territory, memories James himself was trying to repress and move on from. “It’s wasn’t that bad… to be honest I shouldn’t have been that low, or worrying the family.”

“You were heartbroken,” Lucie shook her head, and reached over to grasped her brother’s hand. “No one could blame you.” James snatched his hand away, building up his wall in front of her again. “I won’t bring her up-”

“Then don’t.” James warned, as he stared at his cooling tea for a moment. He could already sense his fingers wanting to reach out and hold someone else’s hand, the delicate, enchanting hands of his fiance.

“Listen. The state you were in, I found an excuse. Here was a friendly guy that could trim my brother’s hair, and with his charisma maybe open a door into the real world,” She explained. “I shouldn’t have relied on Matthew so much…”

“No one could have known what would happen.” James stared at Lucie, who was now picking at her food. “Don’t hold yourself accountable for something out of your hands. Also, you should stop trying to meddle with people relationships, you can’t force it.” Lucie was able to distract his mind again, with the warmth of a kind smile he remembered was directed at him at that salon.

“I was hoping to come up with excuses to bring you to the salon again...” Lucie admitted. “Then maybe you would have formed it on your own.”

“Really?” James raised his eyebrows at the unbelievability of what she was suggesting. “You called me ‘socially awkward’ yourself. You thought I could be friends with someone as attractive as that?”

Lucie blinked at him, and James could feel the blood rushing to his face at her scrutiny. “Jamie, did you just refer to Matthew as ‘attractive’?”

“Well…” James eyes darted away, and he adjusted his glasses to mask his blush. “Yes, aesthetically I can admit when another man is attractive.”

“Oh if that’s all it is then.” Lucie sipped her water through her straw, giving her brother a knowing look. James sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Seriously Lucie, you, who advocate for equality and smashing gender norms and the patriarchy, should know it’s completely natural to find anyone attractive.” James tried to save face, but could immediately read in his sister’s face that she wasn’t buying it.

“While all of that is true, I know you.” Lucie clasped her hand on the table. “And normally I would be cheering you on, go! Acknowledge anyone you want to acknowledge, no one but you can stop you!”

“Okay you are losing me,” James interjected, growing irritated.

“Okay, so I, Lucie, know that her brother, James, doesn’t just throw out there that people are attractive, ever. So, considering your recent…” She winced when James scowled. “....history, it may just be a yearning in your heart for something, anything.”

“You are not even making sense!” James argued. How could even say that, suggesting that he was only desperately trying to patch his heart with Matthew, a man he hardly knew and only met once… who treated him so kindly and without any other motive other than simply to do his job of cutting hair?

“Okay okay!” Lucie put her hands up defensively. “I’m not a psychologist, I’m a writer. I observe people but I may not have the best interpretation of the situation. I admit it.”

“Clearly,” James let out a breath of relief, Lucie was rationalizing it herself in her strange way.

“So.... my lunch is almost up.” Lucie mentioned. James clicked his tongue and gestured for a waiter to come pack up Lucie’s lunch.

“Seriously, maybe we should stop these lunches. You only had a couple of bites...”

“But our parents want you out of the house at least once a day,” Lucie sighed and thanked the waiter when he food was brought back in a box. James took out his card and Lucie put her hand over the check.

“What are you doing? I’m the one working,” she insisted. James gave her an exasperated look.

“And skipping precious time for actually eating.” James shook his head. “Besides, may as well use my allowance for something…like you said, Mum and Dad want me to do something with my days.”

“James, there’s always an opening for interns, I could put a good word-” Lucie started but James shook his head vehemently.

“Don’t want to hear it.” He handed the check to the waiter. Lucie stood up and gave her older brother a hug.

“Think about what I said, despite how misguided or self indulgent it may seem.” Lucie kissed the top of his messy head and James pretended to look disgusted. She slapped him playfully, and he let out a laugh.

“Go!” He waved his sister away, as she weaved through the crowded street clutching her lunch. James knocked back his cold tea, just in time for the waiter to return and give him a pointed look. James shrugged and collected his things, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

He walked through the streets, where he passed Lucie’s office where the latest headlines were being broadcasted on the windows. He stared for a moment, as the household name Branwell caught his eye. It was news he had already known, but it still unbelievable that he had met the second son of the world renowned inventor Henry Branwell. James couldn’t imagine how he would feel if something had happened to his own father, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Matthew was handling everything, to have his family’s business in the spotlight for the world to hear. Despite only meeting him once, James wouldn’t wish this on anyone, especially someone as bright and kind as Matthew.

“...condition is stable and currently on the mend, says the family of the brain behind Branwell Bionics, Henry Branwell. What could this mean for the future of the company, experts theorize-”

James sighed and turned away from the building, striding down the street and making his way through the crowd. His feet were used to this route by know, having grown accustomed to this routine of sharing meals with his sister to appease his parents. His hand clutched his bag closer as the crowd grew denser, the hard covers of his books poking his sides through the material. Suddenly the path he was taking was so clogged that he couldn’t even move. James glared at the crowd in front of him and with a huff pushed against the mass roughly.

“Oy! What’s the hold up?” He tumbled as some people moved aside while others seemed to be leaning to look at something beyond the wall of people. There was chatter and some people with their phones out. James caught a flash of mint green and realized where he was. He had forgotten that the salon was on this side of the street, and it had never been so crowded, so he casually breezed by it on his way home various other times. Today however, the variety of screens were pointed at the door, waiting, for what, James had a hunch. A month ago if someone had told him that one of the sons of Branwell was a hairdresser, James would have snorted and taken it as a joke. Not, that the situation was in any way funny, no it was more complex than that.

James saw the news on the telly about how the man who invented a great many of the devices that the disabled community now used was rushed to the hospital because of an accident. He thought nothing of it until Lucie had called and explained that he was Matthew’s father. James didn’t understand at first, since the business card had Matthew Fairchild written on it, not Branwell.

“It was a precaution, to protect them when they were children,” Lucie explained. “It’s his mother’s maiden name.”

It was a precaution that James’ own parents considered, but despite his father’s accomplishments, Herondale wasn’t nearly as commonplace or famous as the name of the company that was branded on millions of accessible products globally. What was also extraordinary was that the Fairchild’s are a family of politicians, and the fact that one of the women in the family was quietly married to Branwell stunned James. Maybe he should have paid more attention to the elections recently, because after some research he was easily able to find information on many of the local achievements of a Charles Buford Fairchild, who was currently the treasurer of London.

So, with both families so high profile it was short of a miracle that no one had heard of a hairdresser named Matthew Fairchild, owner and best stylist of the salon on Great Marlborough street. That was, until today, as James continued to push through what he could now identify as a throng of paparazzi, curious tourists, and fans. Only James could find himself in such a predicament, but was now stuck in the middle of a crowd on the sidewalk with no way around because he could hardly move.

The crowd shifted and cameras flashed as a limousine pulled right up the curb with an escort. The police immediately emerged from their vehicle to control the crowd and make a walkway. Then, a hefty man came out of the passenger seat to open the door at the rear of the limo. When a flash of ginger peeked from the door the crowd erupted in noise as cameras flashed. James used this distraction to try and wiggle his way to the other side, but there was an officer keeping an eye out as a man in a suit stepped out of the car. He was poised and professional, giving a polite wave to the crowd, and matched his internet images to a tee.

James took his eyes away from Charles Buford Fairchild when he spotted an opening in front of the door to the salon as the crowd inched towards the street. Before he could decide to make a break for it himself, someone roughly thumped against his back, sending him face first into the cement directly in the path that the young politician was supposed to be on.

There was a collective gasp at his sudden appearance as James fumbled the reach for his glasses. A shadow loomed over him and he looked up as he adjusted his glasses to face Charles Buford. The man was staring down at him with an arched eyebrow, and the bodyguard was behind him glowering down at James. Charles seemed to be deliberating something before extending his hand.

“James Herondale is it?”

James stared opened mouth at him but accepted the hand and stood up. “Erm…”

“Charlie,” a voice greeted, and James was surprised to see someone he scarcely saw anymore emerge from the salon. Anna Lightwood, a older cousin of his, stepped out casually with a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and slim fit dress pants. She surveyed the situation with a look of distaste but her eyes landed briefly on James in recognition.The crowd gasp again at her arrival and continued to photograph and record and clog the streets. James had half a mind to simply leave now, but could see the expectant gazes that some people had on him made him freeze with nerves.

“Anna,” Charles Buford inclined his head, letting go of James clammy hands. “Would you mind fetching-"

“He isn’t here.” Anna informed him. Charles’ face tightened but he schooled whatever reaction he wanted to have in front of the audience.

“Any idea to his whereabouts? He mentioned he would be here.” He said with strained politeness. James tightened his grip on his strap, glancing between Anna and Charles, and overwhelmed with a sense that he was out of the loop.

“Haven’t the faintest, he took off after your very public announcement of heading this way.” Anna gestured pointedly at the murmuring crowd. “Took off?” Charles inhaled sharply and then sighed. “Fine. I’ll see him later, but I was only hoping to offer my brother a ride to our father.” He turned to go and nodded at James. “Grace sends her regards.” James took a step back as if he had struck him. He didn’t even notice Anna placing a sympathetic hand on his shoulder and ushering him back to the salon as the crowd followed the departing limousine. James tumbled into the establishment with Anna’s guidance, and he leaned against the wall with a head in his hands. He gasped for breath and Anna’s hands where firm on his shoulders as he choked on a sob.

“Oh James... “ Anna sighed mournfully, “How long have you been keeping this in?”

“I’m...fine…” James rasped, shutting his eyes and gritting his teeth to prevent himself from making more humiliating noises. Wiith Lucie’s questions from earlier, and Charles’ jarring words, everything that James was repressing overcame him in the last place he wanted to have a breakdown.

“Don’t take Charlie seriously, he’s a bloody insensitive twat, pissed with Matthew and took it out on you.” Anna reassured him with her crash remarks. James let out a faint chuckle and coughed some more, wiping his watering eyes.

“Thanks,” James mumbled and sighed. “Not exactly the reunion I was hoping for.”

“By the way I’m back in London,” Anna teased, letting him go. “In fact, I was here at the tail end of your haircut here, but was in the back with Barbara.”

“Really? I wasn’t paying attention,” James shook his head slowly, and his bangs shadowed his glasses. His head was being to hurt from literally swallowing away his sorrows, but he kept face in front of Anna despite everything.

“Were you on your way for another trim?” Anna inquired, leaning against the wall next to James.

“Not at all, I was passing by. Lucie works up the road.” James glanced outside the door, where the crowd was dispersing. He belatedly noticed the sign reading “closed” on the door. “You aren’t even open?”

“You recall I travel cross the country for conferences,not cut people’s hair for a living.” Anna reminded him. Anna was a renowned psychologist and activist, and was often invited to conferences as a speaker.

“Right, I meant, you’re here but they’re closed right?” James amended.

“Actually Matthew had been keeping the shop open, it was Charlie’s fault I had to shoo the walk ins OUT the door.” Anna ran a hand through her perfectly quaffed hair, and the motion made it seem even more stylish than before.

“...and Matthew?” James asked quietly.

“He went off, to Hyde Park to feed the ducks.” Anna told him offhandedly, pushing herself off the wall.

“You know where he is?” James barked out a laugh even though he shouldn’t have been so surprised, it was Anna after all.

“Yes, he could use some company,” Anna produced a pack of cigarettes and offered one to James, who shook his head, before striding towards the door. She peeked out, to make sure the crowd was gone and gave James a knowing stare. “It not like you’ve got anything better planned?”

James wondered if Anna was asking a favor for herself, to not have to chase after him, or for Matthew. James would like to think it was the latter, but he could feel uncertainty creeping through his thoughts.

“You sure he needs my company? I’ve been informed I’m rather dower these days.” James admitted.

“Good, then Matthew can latch onto that instead of wallowing and brighten up both of your afternoons.” Anna decided. “He’ll be at the pond.”

“And you?” James brushed his bangs aside with his hand and adjusted his frames to hide the redness of his eyes.

“I’m going to have a word with Charlotte about her son's behavior.” Anna gave James a confident smirk, and gestured for James to go ahead of her. James smiled back at her, and stepped out of the salon, glancing in the direction of the park and contemplating breaking whatever unspoken promise he had just made. “I’m locking up here, so let Matthew know the shop is taken care of.”

Oh, so now the security of another person’s business was in James’ hand, and James turned to ask Anna why on earth she had a key to the place but she was gone. He groaned and rubbed his aching forehead. Thousands of people went to Hyde Park, how on earth was he supposed to even find Matthew? Even if he went, was there any guarantee that Matthew would still be feeding the ducks? The ducks, James thought, and chuckled. His father would have been scandalized to discover that James had gone to feed wretched ducks today.

James was simply tempted to do it for just that reason, but his thoughts wandered back to Matthew. Matthew, whose brother so rudely dropped Grace’s name, even though it had been a couple of months since their marriage was abruptly cancelled. James put a hand over his eyes as if covering the world could make his body evaporate into the dark corners, a wisp of a shadow among the crowd. It was curse, James thought, to be someone like him, unnoticeable and with nothing in his life to show his potential. A long list of failures trailed behind him as he walked briskly down the sidewalk. He was nothing like Matthew, who was an accomplished hairdresser, charming personality, even accommodating a novice like himself with getting a simple trim.

James put it upon himself to walk the whole way to the park, forgetting how exhausting it would be to do so. He finally made it to the entrance and slumped onto a bench, tilting his head back and staring up at the cloudy sky. After a rest, he set out to find Matthew in the massive area of nature. It would take hours, but he felt compelled to seek him out despite the effort. It was worth putting in the effort for Matthew.

#heronchild #Matthew Fairchild #james herondale #the last hours #the shadowhunter chronicles #Heronchild Hairdresser

[galbinuscarnation]

This is my first TSC fanfiction and the first time I’ve used AO3. Its under my internet persona things24, which is my name for everything multifandom.

“James Herondale love life hasn’t been kind to him recently, but when his sister Lucie forces him to get a haircut he meets one of the purest, lovable souls in London, Matthew Fairchild.”

#the last hours #the shadowhunter chronicles #matthew fairchild #james herondale #heronchild #Heronchild Hairdresser #my fic