title; keen
summary; she had to have noticed by now. — clace!fluff
word count; 559
like: find agreeable, enjoyable, or satisfactory. / to wish for, want
there were a lot of things he liked about clary.
he liked her eyes — a luminescent green with specks of gold swimming lazily in them. he liked her freckles, and how she would let him trace his fingertips across them; on her cheeks, her chest and her shoulders. he liked her hands, small and dexterous (and often covered in paint, too).
he liked her laugh, and how she sometimes snorted if they got too raucous. he liked how she raved about certain animes and books she loved, how she got so enveloped in her painting and sketching and how she held his hand when they slept at night and squeezed it to say i love you —
there were a lot of things he liked about clary.
too many to count.
simon's curled himself into the winged armchair closest to the fireplace, and isabelle is humming quietly in the kitchen as she packs away the remnants of dinner they've just finished. (she's off - key as hell, but he supposes he won't say anything. after all, she's been in a good mood for most of the day; and if he's lucky, he'll get to bed unscathed by her sharp tongue.)
(opening his mouth decreases the chances of that happening.)
so he chooses instead to turn his gaze to clary, her tongue poking out of her mouth in concentration. she's deep and lost in some wild thought as she shuffles a deck of paint - stained cards.
alec strolls in, stopping at the doorframe.
"how long has she been like that?" he asks jace, his voice soft. magnus sidles up behind his boyfriend and rests his head into the crook of his neck.
"not sure," he murmurs in return, lifting a hand to shift clary's curtain of hair away from her face and over her shoulder.
she stops and looks at him, eyes unfocused. her head bobs.
"oh. hi."
magnus snorts. alec laughs. simon doesn't look up from the fireplace, but his lips curve into a smile.
"sure were fixated on those cards," he says. she shrugs, laying them out onto the table haphazardly. "must have been thinking too hard."
he pokes her forehead. "that explains the new addition to your eyebrow wrinkle collection."
she scowls mockingly at him. his ears catch the sound of isabelle draining the dishwater right as simon yawns.
"what time is it?"
clary drops her hands into her lap and blinks sleepily. "almost ten."
he stands and as he lifts her from her seat, jace stoops just shy of her head.
she shuffles closer and pushes her lips to his in a warm, soft and satisfying kiss. "thanks, pal."
he cracks a grin. "you're ridiculous when you're half - asleep." she shoots him a thumbs - up before encasing her tiny palm inside his.
"'m tired. let's .. go."
"where?"
"bed."
"ooh. i like where this is going."
"shut up."
(he decides the thing he likes most are her lips.)
(until tomorrow, when it's her cute little button nose.)
additional notes; i wonder why i've never written for the mortal instruments. i forget how much i love the characters. especially church.