Clary needed blood. The only issue was that she was stuck inside her closet, and it was day. That, alone, severely limited her blood supply.
It wasn't her fault she had become a vampire, really. Clary had been partying in Pandemonium with Simon one moment, and the next one, she was having her blood drunk by a vampire. Clary didn't really remember enough of that night. What she did remember was the feeling of fangs against her skin, and a quick search through Google, a few days later, when her skin burnt and sizzled by the faintest touch of the sun, told her enough.
And as such, it was how she found herself inside her own closet, alone and thirsty; the sun had rose while she slept, and she only had time to shriek and flee to safety, unable to grab the thermos full of cow blood she had bought from a butcher. It tasted disgusting, but it wasn't like she just could ask someone to be a blood bag for her. As long as she didn't kill anyone, Clary would be able to survive the day.
At least, that was the plan, until her dearest older brother - Jonathan, nicknamed Sebastian for the awful Black Butler cosplay he dyed his hair badly for - opened the door, confusion clear in his dark eyes as Clary hissed, fangs showing, trying to bury herself deeper inside the closet to escape the harsh sunlight that had poured in. Jonathan closed the door, trapping her inside, which was considerate of him.
"Do I want to ask what's going on?", Jonathan's voice, clear as if he was by her side, asked, and Clary looked at her sizzling skin, its slow reaction time to heal worrying her. "Clarissa?"
He always called her Clarissa. It was sweet, in its own way, the syllables in his tongue soft yet sharp.
"I think I may have become a vampire. I also really need to drink some blood, so if you could please get me the thermos on the table, I'd be pretty pleased,", Clary replied, and she could hear the eyeroll offered.
"No shit, Clarissa.", he replied, blunt as always. She heard him rummage through her desk and come back, but she couldn't smell the blood. "It's not there."
"What do you mean, it's not there?", Clary hissed, panicking. She had been sure she had left the thermos in her table. The bit her lower lip, the fangs digging in her skin. "I don't suppose you could go to a butcher shop and buy me some?"
Her brother stood quiet for a second, and Clary really wished he didn't. It made it way too easy to hear his heartbeat, the blood flowing through his body too tempting for Clary.
"Why should I?", he asked, voice cold, and Clary really wished Jonathan would just… Not be like that.
Jonathan and Clary had been raised separately. Something about the divorce that made them be raised Parent Trap style until their father had been found dead, stabbed and drowned. It was all very confusing, but the gist of it was that Jonathan had come to live with them at age thirteen, and had latched onto Clary with curious fierceness. Clary hadn't minded then, and she certainly didn't now, even if he was, on occasion, super protective of her sometimes, and other times he'd be like that - cold, uncaring. Clary and their mother were sure this was their father's bringing up.
"Because otherwise I'll die.", Clary wasn't very sure, really, but better to play on Jonathan's over protectionism of Clary.
"Very well, then. Get in a dark corner.", he said, and was the only warning Clary had before Jonathan, opening the door, entered the now cramped closet.
She could hear the blood pumping in his veins. That was... Bad. Clary's back was already on the wall, so there was no other way to go deeper into the closet and try to escape the alluring scent of Jonathan's blood.
"Are you suicidal?", Clary hissed, and Jonathan's eyes could bore holes into her skull. "What part, exactly, of 'I am a vampire and I am thirsty' is too hard to understand?"
"You're thirsty, and since I can't find your blood thermos, I might as well be of use.", he said, voice dry as he touched his neck. "Just go ahead."
Well, since he was offering, and the smell was overwhelming her… Clary bit into his neck, forgetting herself for a moment who or where she was, the taste of Jonathan's blood sweet against her tongue. She moaned against his skin, and her brother's moan reverberated against her teeth. Clary smiled to herself and kept sucking, only stopping when her skin didn't hurt anymore, offering a long lick to the affected area and watching as the small holes in his skin became two small scars.
Clary blushed when she noticed two things - first, she was straddling his lap, and second, she could feel him hard against her. She let go quickly, but Jonathan smirked at her, kissing her softly - her mouth still dirty with his blood - and rose up, silently leaving and closing the door behind him.
"I'll close the curtains for you,", he said, and Clary nodded. If her heart wasn't beating so slowly thanks to the fact she wasn't exactly alive, it would've exploded. "And if you ever need more blood, I'm here."
"Sure,", Clary replied, only leaving the closet when she heard him close the curtains and leave her room. The first she noticed when she got out was the thermos full of blood in her desk, exactly where she had left it.
Clary laughed hoarsely and drunk the rest of it, the taste now bitter if compared to the sweetness of Jonathan's blood. Perhaps she'd have to take on his offer, after all.