I do not own The Mortal Instruments series or any of it's characters. They belong to Cassandra Clare.

Set after the November excerpt from City of Glass. The italics is the end of the excerpt. The normal font is the fan fiction. Remember that someone has just died, someone important to everyone. This is my first fan fiction, and I spent hours trying to get it exactly right. I'm not entirely happy with it, but I don't think I did too badly. Hope you enjoy it!

He sat down on the bed, facing her.
Her chest tightened. "Is there bad news? Is everything—is everyone—"
"It's not bad," said Jace, "and it's not news. It's the opposite of news. It's something I've always known, and you—you probably know it too."
"Jace," she whispered suddenly, and for no reason she could identify, she was frightened of what he was about to say. "Jace, don't —"

"Why not?" he asked, almost defiantly.

"Because it's impossible." Clary said, repeating the words she'd already told him after they'd kissed in the Seelie Court. A spark in his amber eyes told her that he remembered.

"That doesn't mean that we can't say it." His expression suddenly became intense, fierce even. "Clary, I want to say it. I have to say it. I can't keep it in anymore." There was a note of desperation in his voice.

"You have to. We both have to. Please, Jace, don't." she pleaded.

The fierce edge left his expression, to be replaced by a terrible sadness. "Clary, this—what's happened—it's made me realize that there's no time. If I don't tell you now, I might never get the chance. The time we have, it's precious. We don't get forever. Either one of us could disappear, so suddenly that no one could have seen it coming. We're mortal, Clary. We have to make the most of it."

Clary didn't reply. She looked down at her hands, where they still clutched the bed covers, and thought about what he'd said. She remembered what Luke had told her. If you can't tell the truth to the people you care about most, eventually you stop being able to tell the truth to yourself. She had rushed off to find him and tell him the truth. His words echoed in her mind, I'll just be your brother from now on. But hadn't she wanted to tell him how she felt?

When she looked back up at him, his eyes bored into hers. "I love you, Clary."

A lump rose in Clary's throat, and her eyes burned hotly. It was the first time either of them had said it, though they both must know it by now. All this time, she had never once even thought the word. Not about Jace. She thought back to when he'd been taken by Valentine, and she had come after him with a werewolf pack. When he had been imprisoned in the Silent City, and she had raced to free him. Admittedly, she would have done the same, if it had been Luke or Simon. Because she loved them. And now she admitted it, to Jace and to herself.

"I love you, Jace," she whispered.

At those words, the ferocity in him faded. His golden eyes grew very soft. All his features; his high cheekbones, his narrow mouth, his straight nose, suddenly seemed less sharp, softer, less defined. All traces of sarcasm and arrogance vanished from his face, to be replaced by an expression of absolute love. The moonlight from the open window turned his hair into a silver halo. He was so beautiful that he took Clary's breath away. He had never looked more like an angel than he did at that moment.

Without a word, Clary reached for him and hugged him. His arms wound around her back and pulled her closer. She leaned the side of her face into his soft curls, inhaling deeply. Her eyes slid shut as he stroked her hair. Neither of them said a word; they simply held each other. Clary knew that it was wrong to feel the way she did, but she finally accepted that it was not something she could control. For the moment, she was content to simply love Jace, to adore him as much as she possibly could. Whatever else they would have to suffer, Jace could always turn to her for comfort.

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