A/N- This might sound dumb, but this story is kinda laid out like some sort of dream, so it's really vague and stuff. It's gonna be very rough and unsympathetic, just to warn you, and I will not go easy on the smut, it will be harsh and gruesome sometimes. Jonathan is plane evil, basically, and this is just the prologue, so please don't judge! Any and all reviews and opinions, ideas and criticism is welcome!
His father had never understood the work of his mind, they'd never gotten along much, never had a full conversation where they didn't shout of curse. It was better that way, Jonathan knew he wouldn't be as strong as he is today without the hardness of their relationship. He would be like a little puppy that was smothered in love, and is now out in the wild, starving to death. His nose stung with the coldness of the weather, the wind is more like the breath of a monster, frozen in time. He hated waiting, never did have the patience for it, but she was never going to come easily. Clarissa was a hard girl to catch. If Jace didn't insist on being with her all the time, Jonathan's job would be a whole lot easier, that's for sure. Half of his face was hidden beneath his scarf, which he had pulled up against the wind. His sharp features had a red light to them today, the fresh air scraping at his skin severely. He didn't know how much longer he'd have to freeze his feet off in this snow, but however long it took, she wasn't going to get away this time.
Jonathan/Sebastian POV
The time passed as if in a dream, and somehow the day had disappeared, evaporated like a cloud of dust. My feet feel like rocks, buried deep in the icy snow. The lights in her house are on, so she has been there all day. I don't much feel like waiting any longer, so I head toward the doors to her house. I knock, waiting for the rustling to cease and for the door to open.
"Umm, hello. Can I help you?" She frowns, her ginger hair is in a loose bun, and stray curls have framed her beautify face.
"Yes, you can, actually." I say, leaning in farther. I have a syringe in my hand, and I have to be close enough to grab her before she realizes what's going on. My gloved hand tugs at the scarf around my neck, and at the same time, the other has sunk the needle into her skin.
She gasps, whether from the sight of my familiar face, or the instant prickling of the liquid that has entered her veins, I'm not sure.
"I'm taking you with me, Clarissa, and I don't care if I have to drag you, kicking and screaming, to get you where I want." Her eyes begin to glaze-over, and she goes limp in my arms. I have her. I can't believe I have her after all these years of waiting. She's mine. I flip her limp figure over my shoulder and teleport back to my house. Jace won't know what's hit him once he finds out his precious little wife is gone. Forever this time.