Jace had always been a straightforward thinker. He never explained away his feelings, never lied to himself, never left his senses open to beguiling. That was for others. That was for the weaker.
So when thoughts of Clarissa Fray began to cloud his mind both day and night, when even the smallest physical contact lit his nerves on fire, he knew it was time to sit down and face the matter, head on.
He retreated into the clean, simple, organized atmosphere of his bedroom, sat upon the bed, and called on the Mental Council of Jace Wayland to begin.
Point of Order: Clarissa Fray.
First, he would lay out the facts.
It wasn't that she was extraordinarily beautiful or anything; compared to Isabelle, she was quite weak. But while Isabelle had a glacial attraction, the cold, unforgiving beauty of a sharp-edged knife, Clary was like a flickering flame. She seemed to envelope you in a warmth that reached down to your bones and settled inside your very heart. What was most astonishing was that she had no idea of how potent she was, no idea of how addictive her warmth was. Jace had never experienced his first-hand; indeed, he got a distinct feeling that Clary did not like him, but he had seen her wrap her warmth around Simon Lewis, the mundane, who was very clearly and very awkwardly in love with her.
Perhaps it was a good thing that he wasn't the receiver of her affection. It would keep his mind clear, keep him focused. But his heart seized with every smile she gave Simon, with every whispered comfort. And cue the forbidden thoughts: Me, Clary! Talk to me. Care about me. Please.
He had, without a doubt, given himself up wholeheartedly to her, and she had no idea.
She was capable of unbelievable amounts of love, unimaginable amount of compassion and kindness and forgiveness. If she were the only person who loved him, it would be more than enough. She was an almost angelically perfect human on the inside, and that was made her so unreachable.
What was she doing to him?
He remembered reaching across the table and tapping his fingers to her scarlet curls back when they'd been discussing the block in her head. He'd wanted to do that for so long, and a ridiculously giddy rush had exploded in his chest. And then, oh, by the Angel... She'd reached up almost protectively, and her pale hand had brushed his.
The fire!
And then in the elevator, when she'd slapped him across the face without warning. When he realized that if he didn't kiss her soon, he'd die.
When she'd walked down those stairs in that sexy little dress Isabelle had thrown on her, looking so uncomfortable and so innocent and yet so goddamn hot. When he'd pulled out the pins in her hair and the warm, silky curls had spilled over his fingers like a waterfall. The way she'd looked at him through her long crimson eyelashes, just a shade darker than her hair, her green eyes so vivid and brilliant.
Caution. Hormone overload.
The verdict? He, Jace Wayland, was completely and irrevocably in love with Clarissa Fray.
Just a one-shot for some feels. A five minute thing I just typed up on my phone. Let me know if u like!