She tugged at her dress down, slightly nervous. She didn't know why she was this anxious. Normally, she never was. Perhaps because Alec was going to be there? No, that couldn't be the reason. She had seen many prettier hunters come and go before her, and never did she take their hand, the last century that is.

She knew who would be there. Lucian Graymark, someone who she had met once, when he was still young and in his rebellious faze. She didn't mind meeting old acquaintances once every while. She had caught herself enjoying it actually.

She walked down the hallway, her somewhat high soft pink heels and hair which she had out in a bun were nothing out of the ordinary, though her very soft pink lips were. The shadowhunters were used to Isabell's very bright lips, meaning that seeing someone who didn't walk around with a shiny red mouth was something unusual.

It was a short dress, she knew. Not too short to startle, but a good part of her legs was displayed. Her arms were covered in one very thin layer of silk, while the rest was a bit more thickened. Though her small waist was covered, it was just about noticeable when she turned to the light in front of you, like a shadow behind you which you never quite noticed unless you turned around.

She pushed open the door, walking inside the Institute as if it was her day job. Well, it was going to be so for the upcoming three months. She noticed the faint smell of sweat and blood from shadowhunters, the outside taste of leaves on her lips and the sudden realisation of Downworlders besides herself once she came closer to Lucian Graymark.

"Long time no seen, Lucian," she said, while stopping. He still had that unbeatable, strong vibe to him, though slightly scarred because what his former parabatai had done to him. Yet he was patching it up perfectly, she knew. In a matter of hours, after this cabinet, he'd have enough pride to go on for the rest of his days.

"It's been too long, Dèlia," he smiled. They walked through the hallways towards the room which was 'decorated to their convenience' and 'made purely for this cabinet'. But she didn't even believe it if the most trustworthy person in the whole universe would tell her.

The room was far away from the other hunters, because they hated the presence of Downworlders. The room had a side with one or two sad plants, for the Seelies, it had a cocktail waiting for Magnus, a cup of blood of the vampires and whiskey for the werewolf to help him get through the day without cutting someone's head of by frustration.

She hated it, honestly. The way that they were looked down on, by those who thought they were better. A plant? For Seelies? She thought, almost laughing to herself. They truly think all the stories are true, don't they?They didn't even realise how many lies they had been fed. Although it wasn't her secret to tell, she sometimes wished to wipe that smirk of the shadowhunter's faces.

They came so close she could smell the blood of the Seelies, the venom of the vampire and the strong scent of cologne. They at least tried. They didn't do that in the old days, she remembered. All to clearly the fights flashed before her eyes, yet here she was met with those big blue eyes telling her it was okay. That they would not make the same mistake of the tenth time.

"Alec," she stated with bright green eyes. He smirked lightly, the strong scent of cologne coming from him. He had really tried his best to make things work, and now he was here, unable to get something out of his throat that actually made sense without stuttering.

He grabbed all the courage he could find, yet his tongue refused all the same. The warlock noticed, and gently she looked deeper into his blue eyes and assured him she had all the time in the world, and much more, so he didn't have to stress.

"Don't be nervous," she told him.

"Sorry. It's just that I've never had all the heads of the Downworld together without there being a crisis," he joked. He ran his hand through his hear, not feeling the nerves spill from his veins as he saw her smile again, as warm and light as the summer sun.

"First time for everything, right?" she chuckled, a short speck of her hair tugging behind her hair. He made a mental photograph from it, so he could rewind her being so confident for someone else, for him, when he felt as if what he was doing didn't make a difference.

"I suppose," he answered. Although he knew it wasn't her first time, it was neverher first time, he liked to think so. He liked to think that her green eyes actually looked surprised by his offer because no one else had done so in the centuries she had been alive. But what he didn't know, was that no one ever had showed that kind of guts.

"Perhaps we should go to the table. We don't want to be late now, do we?" she said again with that childish grin that bore more years than anyone could fathom.

"If we were to come late, we'd make a statement for sure," he said with a laugh.

"Though not a good one."

She tore her eyes away from him, before she softly noticed how shrugged her words off. He knew she was right, but he would gladly come too late for one of his meetings, then to watch her go while all they said was small talk. She was the one who saved him, and he couldn't as much as begin a normal conversation.

He was partly ashamed. He didn't know why he was always so clumsy when it came to having a conversation. Even if it was with a stranger, he would be either very sarcastic or nervous. There was no in between. It was crossing the line with 100 m/h or just avoid it.

"Come on," she smiled, snapping him awake from his thoughts. He shifted his eyes from her to the end of the wall, seeing the head of the vampires, Seelies and werewolves. It might sound strange, but he was oddly at easy with her by his side.

He didn't know what it was. She just had this radiation of calmness. Yet having lived so any centuries did bring a certain ease to one, since if you didn't have a cool temper, you would never be able to make it through a hundred years of being a warlock.

They walked together, as the dim light of the room filled their hopeful eyes for a better future. Though Dèlia knew better, she liked to see Alec's bright orbs practically wishing for a miracle. And even though she had lost faith in miracles, she would believe in it only for that sparkling blue glance to be filled with joy.

The two stood in front of the table, the warlock eyeing her old friends, Lucian, an old vampire named Joseph and a Seelie named Rafe, short for Rafèlian. She all befriended them when they were young and impatient, but here they stood, wanting to end a war which no one knew was happening.