My first Mortal Instruments story. I do not own the Mortal Instruments or the characters. They rightly belong to Cassandra Clare.
Clary's POV
Kissing Simon was usually very pleasant; his lips were always soft, his hands gentle. So why was it that today, kissing Simon didn't feel right? Why was there a fiery pleasure burning within me that was feeling abandoned, feeling incomplete.
I pulled away from Simon, smiling up into his dark brown eyes that swirled beautifully like melted chocolate. He grinned back at me, squeezing my hands before releasing as I turned away.
"I'll see you tomorrow, bye." I opened the door, hearing his goodbye before the door slammed shut behind me.
Arriving at the Institute, the elevator door slid open, slowly, and as I stepped out an angry Jace was there to greet me. His shoulders were tense, his jaw set and his fists clenched firmly. I didn't have to even look in his eyes, or hear him speak to know he was angry. "Where have you been?" His voice was strung together with a demanding, powerful and flawless anger that only Jace could pull off.
"None of your business," I snapped, brushing past him as I strode down the corridor, my steps long and purposeful.
"It is my business when I'm the one who's supposed to be watching over you."
I stopped suddenly, like someone had just put me on pause. Slowly turning around, I faced Jace, my green eyes burning with anger and disbelief. "So now, I need someone to watch me. Why?!"
Jace's voice softened, his eyes a calm golden, his voice soothing, "We're all worried about you. You storm off randomly and can be away for hours before you turn up. And we never know what you've been doing."
My eyes lost their fire, almost comforting as I spoke softly, "Fine. I was with Simon." And I knew I had said the wrong thing by Jace's reaction. His eyes blazed a fierce gold, his jaw set and hands clenched, body shaking with barely contained fury.
"With Simon?" He growled, his eyes averted from my own, a shiver running up my spine at his tone. "So is that where you run off to all the time?"
"I guess." Much to my disappointment, I couldn't help but feel a little nervous in Jace's presence now. Normally, he'd brush off whatever I said about Simon with a muttered comment about mundanes. So I just couldn't understand why he was acting up like this now.
"You guess? It was a simple 'yes or no' question Clary, and it only required a simple answer. Is it Simon you're always running to when you leave for hours?"
"Yes," Jace lifted his eyes to meet with mine, his eyes glowing not with anger but something else. Is he jealous? Of Simon? "Jace, are you jealous?"
"Me, jealous of rat face? No chance." Jace laughed, confidence shining in his eyes, but I saw right through him. Behind the false confidence was a sliver, small but powerful, of envy in his eyes.
"Jace, why are you jealous of Simon?"
His smile dropped, his eyebrows furrowing in a small frown. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he rocked on his heels, suddenly taking interest in the carpeted corridor.
"What makes you think I'm jealous of Simon?"
"Well," I shrugged. "Usually when I mention Simon you brush it off. Then suddenly today, you get angry and... I can see it in your eyes," I placed my hands on my hips. "You still haven't answered my question. Why are you jealous of Simon?"
Sometimes I forgot how fast Jace could move when he wanted to. Within a blink of an eye, he had moved from metres away from him, to a mere few inches.
"You want to know why I'm jealous of Simon," his golden eyes burned with fierce want as he stared into my green eyes, looking deep into my soul. The tips of his fingers brushed over my cheekbone, lightly, tentatively, his hand sliding to rest on my cheek. "I'm jealous because he has the one thing I want more than anything," his other hand brushed some of my hair out of my eyes, coming to rest on my other cheek. I couldn't tear my gaze from his, those beautiful golden eyes trapping me. My heart was pounding in my chest as his breathe curled over my lips. I had a feeling I knew what he was doing and I was surprised to know that I wanted him to. "I'm jealous because he has you."
There was no denying what I felt right now, as his lips brushed lightly against mine, barely making contact. An electric buzz coursed through me, sending a fuzzy feeling through to every nerve ending within me.
He pulled back, his eyes searching mine, and I knew what was there, because his were the same. Dark with a hungry want. His lips were against mine again, his hands combing through my hair, lost in the red locks. Unconsciously, my hands wound around his neck, holding tight to his hair, pulling him against me. He tipped my head back slightly, deepening the kiss.
My heart pounded so fast in my chest, I thought it would rip itself out, if it hadn't already melted from the hot pleasure that washed through me as Jace's lips moved with mine. I thought my legs would have gone out from under me had Jace not hooked one arm around my waist, the other still lost in my bright hair.
Then I noticed how right this felt, how complete I felt. For the longest time I had an empty void within me, wanting the pleasure that Jace now brought me. My body was screaming at me, demanding that I never stop, that this was what I needed, this what I couldn't get from Simon.
Simon.
How could I have forgotten him? How could I do this to him? Gasping, I staggered backwards as if I had been punched in the gut, my breathing out of control, my eyes clouded by lust as I watched Jace with half-lidded eyes.
When my heart finally stopped pounding and my breath was no longer rapid, I looked at Jace, his eyes wide with shock. He noticed exactly what I had, he knew exactly why I pulled away.
Guilt riddled his face, his eyes closed, jaw set tight. "Clary, I'm so sorry. I didn't think. You can forget this ever happened, I was so caught up in my selfish needs, I forgot about what you might feel. And I can totally understand if you hate me." He hastily turned, taking long purposeful strides back down the corridor, entering the music room and slamming the door shut.
I stood there, staring at the space where Jace had stood. My mind was whirling, tears blurring my vision, but I wasn't upset; I was more shocked than upset. All I could see was Jace, guilty with actions, when he shouldn't feel guilty at all. I should be feeling guilty, so why wasn't I?
Trudging through the halls, hands shoved into the pockets of my jacket, my eyes glided over the carpet as I kept my head bowed, ashamed. When I finally arrived in my room, I threw my jacket on the floor, kicked off my shoes and fell onto my bed, with the grace equivalent to that of a large beast.
Then suddenly, tears were streaming down my cheeks, guilt crushing my chest like a vice. But I still wasn't guilty about having kissed Jace, but because I made Jace feel guilty.
Kissing Jace had felt... Right. As if it were never supposed to be Simon, but always Jace. Hugging the pillow for all it was worth, my hands brushed over my sketchpad.
Slowly, gently, as if it were a small child, I pulled it onto my lap, hands shaking wildly for a reason unknown to me. Gingerly, I flicked through the pages, watching each drawing pass in a blur until I stared down at a single picture. I seemed to find comfort in just looking at the drawing, a smile pulling at my lips.
On the paper, Jace stared down, over the Hotel Dumort, his face as it always was in the face of danger; challenging. But my favourite thing about Jace in the picture, was what I saw in the real Jace everyday. The wings. The wings of an angel. My angel.
Brushing my fingers over the wings, I sighed at the feel of soft, white feathers running through my fingers. Tears slid down my cheeks as I desperately tried to think about what I should do. What could I do? Simon will be heart-broken if I tell him, Jace will be guilt-ridden and I will be confused if I don't.
My head spun, scenarios flashing in my mind, each much worse than the last. I stared down at my sketchpad, turning the page, looking into the blank paper as if the answer to all my problems lay there.
Frustrated at my inability to figure out what to do, I grabbed a pencil from the table, holding it none too gently in my hand and pressing the lead to the page. I didn't know what I was expecting but I thought of one thing as I stared at the page, watching my hand glide against the paper. Forgive me, forgive me, please forgive me.
I was lost in the world of art for what felt like minutes but when I lifted my head to glance at the clock, I realised I had been drawing for a good hour. Moving my hovering hand from above the paper, I saw I was now holding a chocolate brown coloured pencil.
Staring down at the page I was amazed with what was there. Before me on the paper was a drawing of Simon and I; I had drawn many pictures of Simon but this one was like no other. Simon and I were leaning towards each other, foreheads delicately resting against each other, small smiles pulling on our lips. Our eyes were closed, tears glistening on my cheeks, tears in the corners of Simon's eyes, and our fingers were laced together, a rose, beautiful and true, held between us.
I hadn't added lots of complex colours, just brown for Simon's hair, bright orange for mine, red glowing on the middle of the page from the flower, and the tears glistening a pale blue.
And that was what I needed, just that to explain everything to Simon.
Flipping the page, I stared down at it, the same way I had before, my pencil resting on the paper, when the pencil glided across the page, line after the line forming. My mind regarded only one thought as I let my hand slide over the page. I love you, I love you, I have always loved you. Tears formed in the back of my eyes as the emotion bubbled up inside me, my body crying out in pain, longing and need. Suddenly finished, I looked at the picture, a gasp sounding at the sheer beauty of the shimmering golden, fiery red and pure white drawing in front of me.
Carefully, I placed the pad on the bed, before stripping out of my clothes, pulling on a blue cami top, blue and yellow checkered pajama trousers and a pair of white slippers. Hugging my sketchpad to my chest, I padded through the dark, silent halls of the Institute, towards Jace's room.
I stood before his door, no sign of light inside, no sign of movement, and when I lightly knocked, there was no answer. Glad that Jace never locked his door, I slowly pushed it open staring into the room, watching the golden haired boy turn over in bed, his chest rising and falling slowly.
I hesitantly stepped into the room, slipping over to the side of his bed. His face was relaxed, beautiful as usual, but at peace. His golden hair was sticking up in some places, a grin stretching on my face at the sight of his perfect hair being not-so-perfect.
His relaxed face suddenly became tight, his slow breathing speeding up, his eyes darting beneath closed lids. A whimper escaped his mouth, and tears burnt my eyes. He seemed so vulnerable while sleeping, something I had never thought Jace could be.
Kneeling on the floor, I tentatively brushed my hand over his cheeks. "Shh, its okay. You're fine. Its not real, only a nightmare." My voice was soft, quiet and instantly he relaxed, the tension leaving his shoulders, his breathing normal as he leant into my hand slightly.
I couldn't help but smile at the small movement, how reflexive it seemed to be and I looked at him, really looked. His long dark eyelashes, his wavy, golden hair made up of hues of browns and blonds, his strong jaw, high cheekbones. He was truly beautiful and as I traced over each feature slowly, I memorised them all, holding onto the feeling of them, my fingertips barely grazing the skin.
Knowing exactly what I was going to do tomorrow, I leant forward, placing an affectionate kiss on his temple before leaving his room, shutting the door quietly behind me. I padded back into my room, sliding my door shut and placing my sketchpad, carefully, on the desk.
Slowly, I slippled into bed, burying myself under the blankets, curled up in a foetus position before drifting into sleep, a certain golden haired boy filling my dreams.
Stepping out of the shower, pulling a comb through my tangled hair, I caught sight of the note on the table. A note that wasn't there before. Rushing over, I picked up the note, unfolding it impatiently, seeing Jace's neat calligraphy on the page:
Gone out for a few hours with Alec and Isabelle. Something important. Be back soon.
-Jace
Jace was out for a few hours, the Institute was empty. Perfect. I had hours to prepare what I wanted to show Jace everything. I grinned, clearing the desk of its rubbish, and placing my equipment on the desk. Sitting on the chair, I opened up the pad, flicking to a clean page, letting the pencil move freely over the paper, the perfect rose filling the space; down to every last detail.
Turning the page, I let another drawing appear before me, and another, and another. Grinning down at the four drawings in my book, I removed all four, along with the red, gold and white drawing from yesterday, before silently moving through the halls and slipping into different rooms undetected.
Ten minutes later, I stepped out of Jace's room, closing the door behind me, as it was before, heading back to my room. Carefully, I tore the apology drawing from the book, folding it in half before placing in an envelope. Tears burned behind my eyes, a painful lump forming in my throat as I slowly, thoughtfully wrote Simon's name on the envelope, writing a short apology on the back:
I'm sorry, Simon. I wish it wasn't like this, but life can be so cruel. You will always be close to my heart, and I hope I still have a place in yours. I'm really sorry, and I hope someone can return the feelings you have for me.
- Clary
Sealing the envelope, I pulled on my shoes, shrugging on my jacket before I left the Institute, aiming to strive through this task, and fulfill my personal mission.
Jace's POV
Stepping out of the elevator, Church greeted me, purring lowly as I stroked his head. He leaped of the mantle, revealing a picture drawn beneath it. Church prowled down the hallway, a blue ball of fur, as I stared down at the picture. On the paper was a single golden harp, the details on it unreal. As I lifted the paper, a note was revealed beneath it. It was from Clary:
Jace,
This is weird I know, but I think its necessary. Each picture leads to a certain room, which will contain another picture. Each drawing is an object, and all of them represent an emotion. Your job is to figure it out, and come find me when you have. And only when you have otherwise it defeats the purpose.
- Clary
This girl is crazy, sending me on some kind of treasure hunt. Except I have no idea what the treasure is. I doubt she's anywhere I can find her easily, that would ruin everything, and I desperately need to talk to her. I guess I have no choice.
Rolling my eyes, I walked down the hallway, staring down at the golden harp, knowing instantly that she had placed the next 'clue' in the music room. Opening the door, stepping into the elaborately equipped music room, I found the picture on the piano in plain sight.
Staring down at this picture, I chuckled lightly, walking from the room and through the winding halls. Upon the paper was a drawing of a bunch of golden apples, the gold shining like no picture should be capable of.
When I arrived at the kitchen, I poked my head through the door, looking around and seeing no one there, but stuck on the fridge, with an abundance of other pieces of paper was my third clue.
Quickly, and silently going over to the fridge, I retrieved the picture, a perfectly drawn heart lay beautifully in the middle of the page. As I strolled through the hallways, I studied the picture, having no clue what was trying to be said. In the corner, I saw Clary had scrawled something, a tip that read: 'Where have you left most of what you love?'
Smiling, I dashed for my room, pushing the door open, none too gently, grinning like a mad man. On my pillow, I saw a piece of paper, a red drawing standing out from my white sheets. Picking up the picture, I stared down at the amazing scarlet red rose, the petals looking so real.
The greehouse. I jogged through the corridors, passing Alec who looked at me, face masked with confusion, but I continued in the direction of the greehouse, never stopping until I saw the glass doors of the greehouse entrance.
I stopped short as I caught a glimpse of white paper stuck on the door. I stared, amazed by the picture before me. The drawing consisted of only fiery reds and oranges, pure white, and shimmering gold. But as I studied the drawing that hung from the door, I noticed what was actually being shown.
In pure white was Clary, her fiery red hair, a mixture of red and orange hues, cascading past her shoulders, billowing out in alive waves.
Then I saw another person in the picture, dressing in pure white as well, their hair a perfect gold, created from browns and blond spectrums, and I saw who it really was. With the angular cheekbones, and the golden skin, those very things I see in the mirror everyday. It was me, and it looked more amazing than anything I had ever seen.
But the scene playing out caught my attention the more I studied it; Clary had drawn her arms locked behind my neck while mine wrapped around her waist, her head tilted up, lips ready to meet mine that were mere millimetres away.
And now I knew what Clary was trying to tell me, what all these symbols were trying to show. Love. Picking the drawing off the door, a note fell to the floor. Unfolding it slowly, Clary's scrawl covered the paper.
So hopefully you actually went around and found everything. Now you want to find me. This picture shows three main colours, and I am where these colours are seen clearly in the sky, at the time they are brightest.
- Clary
Grinning down at the note, I looked up, the sky an amazing fiery red, the sun an amazing white with the hues of gold lining the sky softly. I sprinted to the roof of the Institute, moving faster than I have ever moved before, waiting to find Clary there.
Clary's POV
Setting down my sketchpad, the replica of the sunset safely away, I stood stuffing my hands in my pockets. Staring out into the beautiful sunset, the warm wind caressing my face softly, a single tear ran down my face. So, I guess Jace doesn't care as much as I thought he did. All I wanted was to show him what I felt. Especially after today.
Simon hadn't been home, as I anticipated, and I was happy, having given his mom the envelope, asking politely if she could pass it on to Simon. Even though I made the effort, I couldn't face Simon and say anything to his face, not yet at least.
Wrapping my arms around me, I watched as the red light from the sky spread over the city like a blanket, turning the dull city into a magical place where colour erupted from everything. I just wished Jace could watch it with me.
And just then, I heard the door to the roof slam open. Spinning around violently, my eyes widened as I saw Jace, a smile shining from his beautiful face and In his hand, I saw the drawing of red, gold and white. Heat rushed to my face, and I felt my cheeks burn an unmissable red.
I watched as his smile widened, his golden eyes shining with desire and love, the red light from the sun reflecting on his eyes, turning them a coppery colour.
I stood there, frozen, watching as he slowly made his way over to me, the drawings held securely in his hands. Standing before me, looking down into my eyes, his smile became somewhat shy, something I could never see Jace as. "I found all the pictures." He passed them to me, and I accepted them, never taking my eyes off of Jace's. "You've got a real talent."
"Thanks." Finally looking down at the drawings in my hand, I pushed some of my hair behind my ear.
"Its amazing."
Lifting my head, I saw Jace staring out into the setting sun, the red light setting the colour of his hair to that of fire, the hot reds taking claim to his hair. I slipped the pictures safely in my sketchpad, sighing and turning to stare into the sunset. "This has always been my favourite time of day at this time of year. My mother always told me that this sunset was like my hair, bright and red, unique and beautiful."
"She wasn't lying."
"I love to watch the sun set as much as possible, I don't know why. Its just so..."
"... Beautiful."
I nodded, noticing a tone in his voice, not distant but somewhat dreamy. Darting my eyes in his direction, I quickly returned my attention back to the view, pushing my hair behind my ear. "You weren't talking about the sunset, were you?"
"No. Never was."
A small smile tugged at my lips as I nervously pulled at my sleeves.
"Clary?"
"Yeah?" I turned to look at him, my breath hitching when I saw how close he really was to me, the way his breath was curling over my face.
"Do you have any idea how I feel about you?" His hands rested just below my jaw, tilting my head back ever so slightly.
"Not really."
"Well, I can't deny it anymore. I love you Clary, I have since you first arrived at the Institute."
"Really?" I stared at him with huge jewel green eyes, the sun slowly disappearing beneath the horizon, the pearly white moon hanging in the sky.
"Really, Clary. I noticed that today, when I searched for all those symbols. I finally realised."
"Well, Jace, I love you too, since the first time I met you." Slowly, Jace leant forward, his lips brushing against mine lightly, that familiar buzz rushing through me.
His lips were against mine again, moving slowly, affectionately, passionately as his hands slowly, sensually slid down my sides, tracing the bends and curves in my body before coming to rest at my waist.
My hands rested firmly against his chest, fisting at the material of his shirt, pulling him as close to me as possible.
This was where I should be, where I wanted to be. Under the stars of our beautiful world that has blessed me and given me the one I've always needed, Jace.
Please review and tell me what you thought. Thanks for reading.