It was a bright Friday afternoon. Light streamed in through the large windows of Java Jones, casting bright pools of illumination over Clary Fray's sketchbook. An array of pencils and art supplies were strewn across her table, and her coffee (black with lots of sugar ), was balanced precariously on a chipped blue saucer. Clary leaned back in the familiar leather of the booth, twirling a pencil in her fiery red hair was pulled back from her face, a smudge of charcoal under her left eye and on her bare arms. She was wearing an indigo-coloured T - Shirt (as she would say ), green sneakers and an old black jacket that used to be Simon's - her best friend. Her mother's necklace , a 16th birthday gift, hung from her neck .
Clary twirled the gold heart absent-mindedly. She set the pencil down, and stared at her drawing . It was a good drawing, she had to admit, but she could never get the face right. Ever since her mother had been killed six months ago, Clary had been dreaming about this mysterious stranger . He had hair that shone like gold, captivating amber eyes and a crooked smile. She dreamed about him every night , feeling that it was just a jolt of inspiration, she would try to draw him, but something was always missing. Just like how she felt something was missing since she lost her mother. Luke had always been like a father to her. He was always there for her , but now , when she looked into his eyes , she saw a distance that scared her. Sometimes he couldn't even look at her, like it physically pained him to look at her green eyes, because all he saw was Jocelyn. She had never felt so alone .
Clary doodled on her page, as she looked out the window, she couldn't help the laugh that ecaped her mouth. Simon was being harassed by a group of pigeons, a bag of food from the Golden Carriage Bakery in one hand. hand. Finally released from the feathery fight, he walked to Java Jones. He did a one - handed wave and sat next to her, handing her the food as he pushed up his glasses. The smell of dumplings filled her nose, breaking her out of her miserable reverie. Clary took in Simon : dark brown hair swept back casually, coffee - brown eyes behind his large glasses. He had a cream coloured jacket on, pushed up to the elbows over a dark red T - Shirt that had a hole in the hem. Dark jeans over old black sneakers. Simon. The one constant in her life. Always there for her, and always would be.
They talked for hours, about all kinds of things: plans for the weekend, Simon's new song, the movie marathon they had planned, and the awfully boring fundraiser Clary had to go to. Clary laughed hysterically when Simon balanced a pencil on his top lip and pretended to be Yoda. Clary grabbed her stuff and gave Simon a hug before leaving Java Jones. As she crossed the street, something made her look up at the building opposite. She could have sworn she saw gold hair and a black jacket ." My hero ", she said.
Author's Note : I do not own any of these characters, that right belongs to Cassandra Clare. I do not own Yoda. Only Yoda owns Yoda. I hoped you enjoyed chapter 1, there is more to come ! Happy weekend !
Reviewed Author's Note: Its hot here in the country of the Infernal Devices, way too hot for any creative or productive thinking, but I still wanted to post something. So I settled upon the compromise of going through all 14 chapters of this story and tweaking it. If you were put off by my terrible spelling mistakes or my use of commas, then this is your lucky day ! I'm not going to change anything too drastically, and I know that it doesn't have to be perfect, but I want people to really enjoy this, and I want to be even more proud of what not just what I have accomplished, but what you have as well. That was a very long sentence. See you later !
Love, Tempe
