❤️My dear readers❤️,
Here's a new story for y'all! It'll be short of course, unless people want it to continue. It'll involve Sebastian, Izzy(a tiny bit), Simon, Jonathan, Valentine, and maybe more later.
I hope you enjoy it! Forgive me for slight errors, as I raced through it to fix mistakes!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments. Only the plot ;)
Chapter Songs:
*Teen Idle - Marina and the Diamonds*
*Wild Things - Alessia Cara*
Chapter 1:
Apartment 37
"Ugh. Why do you have to leave during my money crisis, Iz?" I whine. She flings clothes and shoes into her suitcase, sitting on it for good measure. Her room is a mess from all the clothes sprawled out on the floor.
"I told you, a new roommate's coming over soon, so we can meet him," she says. "Apparently, he's hella cute, plus the name's Jace. Isn't that hot?" she adds, sending me a wink.
I sit on her bed as I watch her stuff all the things she finds travel-worthy into the suitcase. I complain again, "But I don't want a hot guy, I want you." She whips her head around to look at me.
"That sounded super gay, Clare," she points out. I groan, and fall on to my back with a thud. I sprawl my body out on the surface.
"Come on. Who's gonna pay the rent?" I continue to whine. She zips up her suitcase with a final sigh.
She pulls out a cigarette from her back pocket, lighting it up absentmindedly. "You will. I'm just moving down to Pennsylvania. It's not even a state away."
"NYC will miss you, Iz. But mostly me," I respond. She passes me the cigarette, which I put against my lips.
"You're fucking twenty one, Clare. What do you mean 'who's gonna pay the rent'? Bitch, please." She laughs, taking another drag. She glances at the small black clock on her room's wall. "The hotty's coming in fifteen minutes. Get moving, sweetheart."
She lectures me about looks and all that before finally letting me off the hook about my attire. 'Look sharp' she says.
A knock on the door brings us out of our teasing. She hurries me over to the wood entrance, and I slap her hands away when she tries to fix whatever mistake my face has made.
I open the door, expecting some boring looking boy to be standing there. Instead, magic sparks in my eyes.
He isn't hella cute.
He's freaking drop-dead gorgeous.
Dressed in a black wife beater and the same color jeans, the boy looks like a young Greek god. Muscles encircle his arms, biceps apparent through his shirt. He holds an Adidas duffel bag, adding to his athletic bad boy look. I practically melted just with the heat he brought into the room.
"Is this apartment 37?" He asks, his eyes roaming over me and my friend. His gaze moves to the unorganized background we call home. We nod. "I thought I was moving in with a guy named Alec." I see Izzy's face pale. She mutters something about using her brother's Facebook account.
"So you're saying I'm moving in with two girls that can't even clean? Refund, please." Isabelle shakes her head like her life depended on it.
She jerks her thumb towards me. "Nope, only her." I send her a look, saying way to pass the blame!
"Even worse. Some short, fragile redhead? It's like the Little Mermaid all over again." He sneers, a smirk on his face appearing.
"The name's Clarissa, sweetie," I tilt my head to the side sympathetically as I retort. He chuckles, his abs shaking with every laugh.
"I'm good with Ariel, darling," he says as he leans on the door frame. Dammnn.
"I'd love to have you stare at me for hours, babe, but aren't you going to welcome me in?" he comments, his voice low. Anger bubbles in my veins as he calls me 'babe'. We move to the side to let him pass. He stares around.
"Now what are the benefits in this move in?" He says, his eyes roaming over the mess.
"Gym in the building, club down the street, bars next block over. Cheap restaurants and shops." Though, all of those things are good for me. He glances over at me, his gaze locking with mine for a little too long.
"Mhm. Not too bad," he says, breaking the silence. "Consider it done." Isabelle's eyes pop out, clearly surprised about his agreement. "I have furniture if needed, but clearly you don't need anything to add to this mess."
I scoff, hiding my content self. Someone, an attractive someone, is moving into our apartment, with free furniture. It's like Walmart sales all over again!
"Sleeping arrangements?"
"You can get the room at the end of the hallway. It's a king bed. Is that appealing enough for you?"
He grins. "Very." House rules.
"When do you wake up?" I ask.
"Why? Hoping to slip in before it's time to leave?" He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. When he sees I'm totally serious, amusement leaves his face. "Depends. Four to six on most days." Good, we share the same schedules.
"Alright. You make your own food. What I make is mine." He raises an eyebrow, and I shrug it off just like he did. "Save hot water for the shower if I take if after yours."
"Why don't we just take one together?" he asks, smirking attractively. Damnit.
"Get a room," Iz comments from the couch. I roll my eyes.
"Gladly," Jace says, grinning. The smile reaches his eyes, sparking up the gold embers in them.
"Like that will ever happen." I scoff.
"Challenge accepted," he says,
I gesture to the rest of the apartment, asking, "Tour?" He nods, and I guide him through all the rooms.
.w.W.w.
Sunlight burns my eyes as I open them. The curtains are opened just a slit, but I notice the sunset reaching my window. I slip into a black sports bra, grabbing black gym pants that arrive mid-calf. I absentmindedly put my hair up in a high ponytail. I put on my usual cateye makeup, leaving my naturally full and black lashes alone.
On my way out, I grab a water bottle. The apartment's eerily quiet, without Isabelle's obnoxious snoring. Jace's door is closed, so I can only imagine he's still sleeping. I notice the clock, saying it's four o'clock. Just on time.
As I stalk quietly down the ten flights of stairs, I notice a delivery for our apartment in the lobby. The box is huge, and a big sticker on the front tells me "HEAVY". Like that isn't obvious.
I follow down the hallway, opening the old, rusty door. It clanks closed with a loud thud, and I pad down the stone floor in my black Nike Air Jordans. I enter the big dim room, flicking on the light switch. Row by row, the ceiling lights illuminate the old boxing warehouse.
The wooden floors are dusty, and one of the only boxing bags in good shape swayes lightly on its chain. The repeated thump thump of a boxing bag gets me out of my usual daze. Low grunts echo after them. I glance towards the far end of the room, where one of the windows in shining light in.
I only see the muscled back of a man, but by the gracious way he hit the bag repeatedly, I know it's Jace. He backs up, ready to hit the bag again. He nails the hit with every punch, his grunts flat and emotionless. He continues, looking robotic.
He swings harder, sending the bag flying off of the ceiling. The rest of the chain swings aimlessly on the ceiling. The bag follows, releasing a huge bam as it hits the hardwood floors.
Jace shakes his sweaty hair loose, and I can't help but find it a little bit manly, and attractive. He yanks the red gloves off, throwing them on the ground. He grabs the bag so easily, it's almost god-like. He settles the chain back with the other part, and slips the gloves on again. He continues his routine.
"What you looking at?" He grunts out, keeping his rhythm steady and his gaze ahead. His strong figure flexes with every movement, and when he turns to the side so I only see his profile, every bump and dent of his lean abs makes my mouth water.
"You," I respond smoothly. Somehow I anger him, getting him to hit the bag even harder. His movements become more frantic, but always gracious, hitting the center perfectly every time.
"Just gonna stand there, or are you gonna do some work?" He says again, his voice low and raspy. I take off my sweater, which leaves me in my black front-zip bra. He doesn't send me a glance, but I can feel him struggling against himself not to watch me. I slip on my fingerless gym gloves, blowing out a strand of red hair in front of my eyes.
I position myself on the punching bag beside his, hitting it repeatedly as he did. Our rhythms start to match, and I glance over at him. He's slowed to match my start and he smirks as he catches me watching him. I bite my lip, hoping to stop the grin coming on. I shift my gaze to the bag, and I swing harder, until my movements become sloppy.
I hear his bag stop moving, and two hands behind me stop my bag from swinging. His back presses up behind mine, and his hot breath tickles my neck.
"You want to have steady movements," he whispers. "Or else your axis will change." I would have never thought those two phrases would sound so sexy.
"I don't remember ever asking you for boxing lessons," I snap, my protective self huddling around me again. I whirl around and push his rock-hard chest away from me. Something sparks in his eyes, not surprise, but wonder, like he had just discovered a clue for a mystery.
"Got it, Ariel," he retorts playfully as he walks away. He settles himself on the large wood bench on the side be the room. He leans forwards a bit, and opens his plastic water bottle. He pours it on to his head, and I watch as the water trickles down his muscled chest in smooth drops.
A tiny, tiny part of me wants to follow them with my lips.
I remind myself what had happened the last time that I had let a man close to me, and I snap out of my gaping bubble. He glances up at me from under his thick lashes, and I feel his eyes look down my body.
You would never imagine how quick my vision of him went from 'roommate' to 'ripped single man'. I shake my head, scolding myself. You're always better alone. Those words are forever engraved in my mind, anyways.
I grab my water bottle and sweater, hauling it over my shoulder. I make my way over to the door, but just as I reach to open the door, a tanned hand places itself on it, pushing it open. I whirl around, and find Jace with a white towel settled around his neck. I can barely stop the drool from coming on.
"Ah!" He exclaims. "Ladies first." He moves to the side, the hallway open to me. I don't send him a glance as I stalk past him, my head high. "Oh, I see how it is. I won't be opening more doors for you anytime soon." I scoff as he hurries to meet my pace.
I through the hallway towards the exit, and he raises an eyebrow in question. I hold my hands up in innocence. "What? You're the one deciding to follow me," I point out. He tilts his head to the side, his expression agreeing.
"I'm just trying to get closer to my roommate, you see."
Just as we're about to walk out, Jace slips on his thin grey hoodie. I can't help but feel a tiny bit disappointed. Oh, well.
The street is busy with the usual New York City human and vehicle traffic. Honks and shouts fill the air along with the soft purring of cars as we pass them. I feel multiple eyes on us as we walk, my sweater open revealing my bra and Jace's muscular build visible from under the fabric.
His stride is long, and I have to hurry to keep up with him. I turn and enter Starbucks, ignoring his smirk when he notices where I was heading. We wait in line, earning glances from young teenage girls, who giggle when they see Jace. He smirks back, winking at some. I hit his arm when he gives a young girl the famous head jerk, muttering, "She's way too young for you."
He looks back at me, grinning a bit. "Why? Are you suggesting you're not?" He crosses his arms across his chest, leaning back a bit to look at me.
"I'm twenty-one, asshole."
"Ouch," he says. I roll my eyes and undo my high ponytail as it was starting to droop. I reach to put it back up but Jace grabs my hand. The touch is hot, almost scorching. His eyes, now sparkling golden, seem to search my eyes for something.
"It looks better down," he says quietly, moving my hand down, but still holding it. I grab it back and proceed to attach my red hair up.
"Who said I go by your opinion?" I snap, tying it up with my black elastic. His eyes spark with the same wonder as before, and I have an urge to ask what he wants. He recoils, shaking his hands frantically.
"Fierce," he says, widening his eyes sarcastically. He turns to look straight ahead. "Just what's written on your ass," he adds, referring to the writing on my gym pants. I gasp.
"Pervert!" I exclaim quietly, trying to not attract glances from around us. He looks at me, smirking.
"You were practically stuffing your butt in my face."
"What the hell? I was not."
"Explain the cute blush on your cheeks." He grins, but this time it seems genuine. I try to calm the loud pounding in my chest at the mention of my 'cute blush'. I shrug it off.
"It was cold outside," I say, but honestly, it's not the best excuse. I can see he doesn't buy it, and he chuckles, his eyelids lowering a bit.
"Sure, sure."
"What? It's true," I add, before we walk up to the register. I order a latte, while he only orders a black coffee. I roll my eyes, muttering, "Lame", and receiving a soft shove from him.
I see the employee checking him out, and I protectively slide my arm through his. He stiffens, sending me a questioning look and a raised eyebrow. I shrug.
He looks at me one last time before turning back to the girl as she asks what size he wants. He asks for a large, and right before she hurries off, he smirks at her, purely for the charm, I convince myself.
"Thank you," he says and looks at her nametag. "Ashley." She blushes a lot, practically looking like a tomato. When she comes back, I reach inside my purse, only to feel his hot hand covering mine again.
"I got it," he mutters, and hands Ashley his credit card. I stammer and protest, but he shrugs it off like I wasn't even talking to him. When the girl hands him back his card, he smiles at her, but I can see it's fake. Or at least that's what I tell myself.
We leave the store, and I barely notice my arm still locked with his. When we're outside, he stops and gestures towards it.
"That girl was looking at you like you were food," I explain. He gives me a questioning glance, and I slide my arm out. He looks slightly hurt. "Besides, you didn't have to pay for that." He seems kind of distracted when he responds.
"Just doing you a favor." We walk back silently, the only sound being our labored breath in the cold. I watch the hot air leave his mouth and create a tiny cloud, silently examining the way his lips move with every breath.
We arrive quickly and walk up the stairs without another work. He trails behind me, taking his time as we climb up the flights. I slip into the apartment, and he follows after.
.w.W.w.
The apartment is silent, apart from the noise from the TV as I watch it. How To Get Away With Murder blares from the microphones.
Suddenly, a loud door opening and closing makes my eyes leave the electronic. Jace strolls out, wearing a black leather jacket and grey button down. His jeans are tucked in to motorcycle boots. He doesn't strike me as the man to go out at 10 o'clock on a Friday night.
"Where you going?" I call from the couch. He makes his way to the door without sending me a glance.
"To a club." His answer is flat, emotionless, as if I was the parent and he was trying to get out of a conversation about going to a party. He grabs the keys of our apartment from the shelf next to the entrance door.
"You aren't going to eat?"
"I'll find food, mom," he says, proving my point. His eyes are full of trouble when he meets my gaze.
"Alright," is all I answer. I stare at the TV, not giving him the pleasure of my attention. He grunts in response, moving out the door. I know I won't spend my night all alone at home. I'm not going to sulk on the fact that Izzy's gone.
I turn off the TV, and run to my room. I shove my walk-in closet door open, ignoring the clothes on the floor. I push hangers aside on the racks, trying to find the perfect clubbing dress. Aha!
I settle on a short black sleeveless turtleneck dress, arriving above mid-thigh. It hugs my body well, accenting my hips and waist. I slip on black platform pumps, which adds to my pathetic 5'6 height.
I grab a gold wrist band and my purse. I add to my cat eyes, creating a small smokey eye. I put my hair in a loose fishtail braid down my back in a red river. I put on dark red lipstick, and practically run down the stairs.
The club's across the street, so I don't need to walk far before hearing the pounding music. I assume Jace didn't come here, as this is one of smaller clubs, though it's huge.
I know the bodyguard, so he lets me slip in with a flirtatious wink. Men send me looks as I strut in, one pump in front of the other. The blue and pink lights blind me for a while before the dim setting settles back in. People dance against each other, others almost have sex on the dance floor, while some, like me, stay on the tall barstools on the side.
I slip on one, and ask for tequila shots. A man walks up beside me, and passes the bartender a twenty dollar bill. His panty-dropping grin doesn't help either.
"I got it, sweetheart," he says, his voice low. I giggle, and we small chat for a while.
The alcohol barely gets to me, but I still laugh like a teenager fangirling over Justin Bieber. Before leaving, he slips me a napkin, where ten numbers are neatly scribbled. Proudly, I slip it into my purse. I turn around, and the first thing I notice is a tall blonde man across the club staring at me. I look closer, only to notice the golden hair belongs to Jace. I grab my last tequila shot, and when I glance back, he's gone.
I look around. He's nowhere to be found. Suddenly, I feel something in my stomach starting to feel uneasy. I stumble in my pumps to the back exit. My vision clouds on the edges in black, and I hold my stomach as I arrive in one of the back alleys. I double over, clutching the brick wall for support.
Loud moaning from the other side catches my attention. With all my force left, I look over. A blurred image of a girl and a boy making out is all that reaches my visions. The girl is hoisted up against the wall, and they seem to be deep inside their kissing session.
The earlier pain resumes, and I must have groaned loudly, because a whine and a low voice echoes in my ears. I face the brick wall, clutching my abdomen. I lean over, dropping my purse by accident. A swirling sensation stabs at my insides again. Two hands circle around me, and I find myself being hauled up by strong arms.
I cry out as the feeling hits me again. A low male voice shushes me, rocking me slightly in its arms. I fall back into their hold, huddling closer to the man's chest. Warmth huddles me as he holds me tighter against him. I look up, and the last thing I see is a strand of gold hair.
.w.W.w.
I wake up heavy sheets, sidled up to something warm. And moving. But exhaustion takes over my body, and I move towards it, pulling the duvet up to my chin and leaning against the heat source. The body seems asleep, but it places its chin above my head, and wraps a soft hand around my waist. My shirt had moved up—wait, shirt? I thought I had last been in a dress...
My mind whirrs, though my body stays still, barely moving. But as I continue, it had ridden up, revealing my bare back. The hot hand placed itself on my skin, leaving a scorching trail as It traced small patterns with its fingers.
It starts to become therapeutic, just the soft hum of his breathing and the repeated circles on my skin. I melted into the body, placing my hands on its chest. Underneath the thin fabric, I felt a couple of bumps, and the dip of skin after. Abs. Wait.
This time, my body did react. I sat up quickly, and Jace groaned, turning over to look the other way. I pushed the covers over. Finding myself in an oversized navy blue shirt, arriving a tiny bit below my butt. I felt around my chest.
Oh, god. No bra. ...How? Questions race through my head.
I lift up the hem a bit, revealing the same pair of underwear as yesterday. Whoo. Did he change me? Why am I sleeping with him? Why don't I have a bra? What happened last night?
I think he got too close to his roommate.
~FEEDBACK IS WELCOMED~
Eeek! First chapter! I hope you like it, and I'll continue if it gets some sort of support.
This chapter was borderline 3,9K, a medium chapter. Tell me if you want the next ones longer!
Drop me a review?
