I decided to write a training scene. Enjoy! Don't forget to R & R. :D *ONESHOT* (for now.)
Disclaimer: I don't own TMI or and TMI characters. They belong to Ms. Cassandra Clare.
"OOF!"
Clary fell flat on her back on the wooden floor in the training room at the Institute. Ever since they got back from Idris, it was the Lightwoods' main priority to train Clary to become one of them. One of the Shadow world. That day, she and Jace have been working on hand – to – hand combat. They've been working with whips, seraph blades, angel knives, kindjal daggers, and other weapons that Clary soon forgot after Jace had been throwing punches and kicks that she was supposed to block or dodge. Clary had been fantasizing taking long, long break, visiting her mother and Luke, drinking coffee, when Jace punch kicked her in the chest, cutting off her breath and making her fall.
"Clary," Jace said, kneeling down beside her while pulling out his stele. Suddenly, there was a stinging kiss on Clary's arm. Looking down, she saw Jace drawing an iratze on the inside of her wrist where she apparently had landed on and sprained. She was still stunned from the fall to care about the pain from the wrist.
"You have to pay attention. Losing concentration like that in the middle of a hunt makes you an easy target. Allowing me to kick you down was completely and utterly idiotic." Jace scoffed.
"Well, slow down a bit. We've been at this for hours." Said Clary, breathlessly. Jace was too close. She could see every trace of faded runes on his arms. The black marks on his chest, looked like twisting tongues of fire. His golden halo of hair was messy and dripping of sweat.
"Clary," Jace sighed.
Please let me have a break. Please say okay. Please, please, please! Clary silently begged.
"Fine. We'll continue tomorrow. We're going to go on a hunt soon anyway." Jace said, standing up. He held out his hand which Clary gratefully accepted. He pulled her up from the floor and held her recklessly close. "But first..." Jace said huskily while leaning closer to Clary's face. Clary stayed still, waiting for the moment his lips would brush hers…
"JACE! CLARY! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!" came Isabelle's scream from outside the training room. "WE'RE SUPPOSE TO BE GOING TO PANDEMONIUM REMEMBER?" Isabelle shouted.
The door banged open, and there stood the raven – haired Izzy, already dressed in her shadow hunting gear. She had traded the skin – tight ebony shirt and dark leather pants for an onyx, long - sleeved dress that reached the top of her thighs with silver runes designs on the neckline and sleeves. With the fishnet leggings and stiletto boots, she looked fairly bad ass. The silver – gold whip coiled around her wrist, glittered wickedly.
"Come on, people!" she said, stomping in and grabbing Clary by the arm. "Let's go! Let's go! The demons are waiting. Well, not in the literal sense I mean. And you, Clary," Isabelle said savagely, tearing her gaze from the door and glared at the red – head she was half – dragging, "You said I could make you over. I only have so much time to make you drop dead gorgeous. Jace Lightwood," She turned her head around, glaring at Jace. "Go put a shirt on and take a bath. I could already smell you from the doorway." Jace just shrugged, watching the two leave. "Let's go, Clary." Isabelle said for the last time, tugging Clary's arm once more.
"Help me." She mouthed at Jace.
"No way." He mouthed back. That creep just smirked! Clary stumbled along side Isabelle who had stopped dragging her and just resorted to holding Clary's arm. Meanwhile, Jace watched them from the back of the room, while shrugging his pale gray t - shirt on. As he turned around, he heard the door slam and saw that he was alone in the training room. It was just him and his thousand reflections bouncing off the mirrors.
A/N: I think I'll make this a chapter story. I'm having so much fun with this. :)) ha ha ha. R & R guys! Thanks.
-Lexa
