Jace tore his fingers through his golden hair, then proceeded to walk out of his room and into one of the many corridors of the New York Institute. He couldn't sleep, it became harder and harder to after the war with Sebastian and the Endarkened. The burning sensation of heavenly fire in his veins. He'd see the faces of the fallen Shadowhunters he used to know, die. Time and time again, whenever he shut his eyes. Until he couldn't sleep at all. That's why he was heading to Clary's room. She made this easier, it was as if she was living, breathing hope. Some nights he would just stand there outside her door, unmoving, haunted by his own thoughts. But most nights he would quietly enter her room (that she left unlocked especially just for him) and hold her. Clary was his only tether to what was real and what wasn't.
Tonight, Jace silently opened the large wooden door to Clary's room. Moonlight sifted through her drawn sheer curtains, and onto the bed. Illuminating her sleeping figure on the bed. Jace's lips upturned slightly when he saw Clary; asleep with her hands tucked neatly beneath her chin, her lips slightly parted. He slowly made his way over to the opposite side of the bed to lie beside Clary. When Jace climbed in beside her, he tried to even his breathing. To calm down, to forget the fire, the darkness. He traced the runes on Clary's shoulder, some faded, and some stark against her pale skin. Jace wasn't gentle with many things, but he was with Clary.
When he drops his hand, the weight shifts and Clary is faced toward him. Her emerald eyes lidded with sleep. Her hand reaches out to his shoulder, and gives him a knowing look.
"Don't worry I get them too," she whispers. An empathetic look washed over face, as her lip trembled. "Jace-," the rest of her words are muffled as Jace pulls her into him.
"How come you never came to me?" Jace stares into Clary's eyes, searching for an answer. Gold clashing with green.
"I could never wake up," she stated wistfully, "I am always caught in the dream, I can't determine what's real and happening, and what has already happened." Clary clutches onto Jace's shirt, holding on like he was the only thing keeping her sane. Jace pulled away, and guided Clary's lips to his own. The kiss was gentle, a reassurance that they were both alive. That they were both here for eachother. That neither of them would ever leave.
"Are you awake now?" Jace asked, his forehead still on Clary's. Moonlight danced across Jace's golden features, making him the brightest thing in the room. As an answer, Clary took his lips in a hold of hers once more, showing instead of telling. Jace was the moon, creating the tides in the ocean, keeping them steady, and alive.