Coffee Shop, Love.
Chapter 1: On a Wednesday in A Café
Clary.
She ditched Simon at the subway as per usual and slipped into the cozy coffee shop that sat in the corner. Hazelnut was her escape and she only had it for an hour a day before she had to retreat home to her life. Her life wasn't terrible it just wasn't anything spectacular. She was an art student at NYU, her single mother owned a gallery and that same mother was practically forcing her to be engaged to her childhood friend who also happened to be her biggest investor's son. Simon was cute, quirky, wonderful, and Clary loved him she truly did but in a brotherly way not in a let's spend our whole lives together way. Clary never had that kind of love before, or any real romantic love at all. Clary longed for romance, but she also wanted an adventure. She just wanted something to take her breath away and surprise her like never before. She knew Hazel's on a Wednesday afternoon didn't hold that but still it was an escape.
A few tables were full, mostly quiet college aged kids like herself drinking their coffees and reading, drawing, or typing away on their laptops. Clary herself ordered her regular black coffee and took her table by the back, flipping open her sketch book hoping for a new inspiration. Minutes, maybe even a hour soon passed and she was still immersed in her art. It took her away from everything and it dawned on her suddenly that maybe Hazel's itself wasn't the escape but the art. She looked up to check for a waitress to order another coffee but something else caught her eye, a flicker of gold. She turned completely to see it was a mess of hair that looked like it was drenched in the light of the sun, clad in full black. She hadn't even seen his face yet but she had the urge to sketch him.
She began her sketch in concentration with thick determined strokes not wanting to make a mess of the perfection before her. As her eyes flickered up for the final part of the sketch she noticed the figures eyes on her.
"Oh god! I'm s-". She was cut off suddenly lost in the boy's face. Angular cheekbones, full lips, and eyes even more gold than his hair if that were possible. He was like an angel cast down from heaven for his beauty but something in his cat-ate-the-canary smirk told her he was an angel at all.
Jace
He wished he'd never come to New York. It was crowded and the people were all too involved with the hustle and bustle of big city life. He missed the old manor house in the wide open English country side that he ran through as a boy. Of course he hadn't been there in years, not since his father died. Not since his old friends the Lightwoods took him in. Not since he joined the family business of boxing. The whole of the Wayland line had been boxers along with the Lightwoods themselves as it turns out. They're two children, Alec and Isabelle, were boxers themselves. Jace had trained with the both of them and though they were good, Jace was always the best. When Mayrse granted a few hours of free time before training for the first match, he had quickly ditched his siblings and found himself in a smaller, seemingly less crowded part of the city. A little café on a corner quickly caught his eye. It was petite, brick, and didn't seem crowded.
It was silent and for the most part empty save for the few young kids seated around working away. He ordered a tea and found a nice table toward the back that faced the window. Quiet, peaceful something Jace had not known in a while. Of course he loved boxing. He loved fighting; it was his favorite thing in the world. If not for fighting he had no idea where he might be. Lately though everything had been too much for him. Mayrse and Robert had just announced their plans to marry Jace to their daughter Isabelle. Jace loved Izzy. She was gorgeous, badass, and all around wonderful but she was like a sister to him. More than anything though Jace had planned never to marry. Jace planned to travel the world, fighting, boxing, and doing what pleases him all over the world.
He sat for almost an hour pondering what his life would become and what he wished it could become. He felt the odd sensation that someone was staring at his back and he turned quickly. He saw a shock of red curls the exact shade of flames covering a face that seemed to be sketching ferociously. The arms that were sketching were petite and the girl herself seemed no older than fifteen. She looked up again searching for him and instead seemed to be shocked to see his face rather than his back.
"Oh god! I'm s-". She stuttered falling over herself. She was looking at him oddly and he looked back. Her face revealed shockingly large, intelligent green eyes and array of freckles. He had guessed before that she was fifteen but her face now seemed older, 17 or 18 at the most.
"Sorry for staring?" He smiled at her wickedly. "It's alright believe me I'm used to it little girl."
He was more rude than necessary but the girl unnerved him. Something about her emerald green eyes that were both intelligent and dreamy at the same time