Jace ran a towel through his hair, wet from his shower. He was wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and a cotton t-shirt, damp from his dripping hair. Jace was running a hand through his hair when he heard a sound from downstairs, followed by a yell with a voice that could only belong to Simon.
Smirking, Jace opened the door and made his way down the dark hallways within the Institute. He paused in front of a door from which a yellow light was escaping. He opened it, noiselessly, and found a girl with fiery red hair on the other side, sketching on an easel. Jace stalked in to the room, unnoticed by the girl. He continued to step quietly in the girl's direction, hoping to surprise her.
With enough speed to startle him, Clary was out of her seat and facing Jace, a sharp object pointed towards his heart. Jace's eyes widened in surprise. He nodded his head, impressed. Clary lowered the makeshift knife and returned it to its spot on the art tray. Jace walked over to the easel, observing his girlfriend's work. Clary was at his side. She looked over at Jace and found him grinning.
"By the Angel," Jace whispered. "This is amazing, Clary." Jace traced a finger down the ripples in the water. He touched the tip of the sword, as if to confirm that it wasn't real. "The Mortal Instruments," Jace murmured, still fascinated by the drawing.
"It isn't finished yet," Clary said, quickly. "I still have to paint it…"
"It's beautiful," Jace said, reassuring her. Then, "Can I watch?"
Clary smiled and stood up to retrieve the paints from the other side of the room. Jace waited patiently. She returned with a tray of paints in one hand and a cup of brushes in the other. Jace watched intently as Clary mixed small amounts of black and white paint. Placing the mixing brush on the edge of the tray, Clary selected a smaller brush, dipping it into the silver. She reached for Jace's hand and wrapped his fingers around the paintbrush. A puzzled expression crossed his face, but Jace said nothing. Clary's hand rested atop his as they began to fill the easel with color. Jace smiled, pleased with their work.
After the body of Raziel sparkled silver, Clary grabbed an even thinner brush and dipped it in gold. As she began to detail the holy cup, Jace put his brush down. Reaching over Clary, he dipped his fingers into the gold. Before Clary could stop him, his hand brushed her face, leaving streaks of gold on her face.
"Jace!" she shrieked. "You did not just-" He painted her face again, this time using silver.
Clary flicked her paintbrush at him, his face instantly freckled with gold. At that moment, Clary thought, he looked more angel than ever. He was golden, his damp hair, his bronze eyes, and painted face standing out against the white cotton of his t-shirt.
"Hey, Clary," said Jace suddenly, smirking. "You have a little something on your nose right there-" Clary shoved him playfully, Jace chuckling at her false anger. Jace, smiling, reached out, with his clean hand, to push a strand of Clary's hair from her face, blazing in comparison to the pale silver on her cheeks.
"I guess this is what I get for leaving you unsupervised with my art supplies," Clary said, jokingly.
"You literally threatened me with your art-weapon when I came in," Jace reminded her. "I think you're the one who needs to be supervised."
"It's called an x-acto knife," Clary corrected him, resuming her work on the painting of Raziel. "And hasn't anyone warned you never to sneak up on an artist? It tends to be especially dangerous when said artist was taught by the very same person how to turn anything into a weapon."
"You know, I knew I was going to regret doing that, but I didn't expect it to be nearly this soon."
Clary laughed at that. Clary finished her painting of the angel with Jace by her side.