"Clary?" Jace called down the hallway of the Institute.
"Yeah?" His girlfriend paused for a moment, but when she heard his approaching footsteps, she continued folding away her gear. Jace stopped in the doorway of their room, his arms crossed as he gazed down at her.
"You were training." It wasn't a question.
Clary rolled her eyes. "Yes, mom, I was training. I'm 19 now; I'm a big tough girl." She flexed one arm and winked at Jace's sceptical expression.
He took a few steps towards her and pulled her into his chest before murmuring into her ear, "It's not you I'm worried about. It's Matisse."
"Matisse?" Clary laughed, pulling back to look him in the face. Nodding, Jace reached out and stretched a hand over her stomach. The redhead grew serious, covering his hand with her own, much smaller one.
"I didn't want the others guessing. We haven't told anyone yet. I don't know how Mom's going to react when we tell her I'm – pregnant." She breathed out the last word, heat flooding her cheeks. She hoped her mother would be as ecstatic as she was. Knowing that there was a tiny part of Jace growing inside of her filled her with an indescribable warmth.
Jace cupped her chin and tipped her head back to kiss her lightly on the mouth. "Well can you lie down now please? Let me finish this."
Stopping herself from another eye-roll, Clary sank onto the mattress of their bed while Jace put away the last few pieces of clothing.
"Why Matisse anyway?" Clary wondered aloud.
"Since his mother's such an incredible artist, I figured he'll inherit some of that talent. Obviously, his devilish good looks will come from me, but I know he'll be as creative as his mother." Jace sat beside her and she tucked her head under his chin, smiling.
"So I thought we'd call him Matisse. At least until he's born. Give him a proper artist's name." He whispered into her hair.
"You keep saying 'he'. It could be a girl, you know."
"I know. But 'he' slipped out, and it felt inappropriate to start saying 'it', so I stuck with 'he'." Clary slapped him lightly on the chest before lowering her hand to her abdomen.
"Hello, my little artist." She whispered, and Jace thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard her say.
