Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments.
A/N: (I know that this isn't the Simon/Isabelle that I promised. But that is coming, I swear.) So this kind of had a plot and a purpose at first... but now it doesn't. It's just snippets of Simon and Clary before the series in Simon's POV because Simon's awesome. You don't get Simon without Clary or something like that. I mean he was in love with her for ten years. And reviews are appreciated, even if you do tell me off because this has Simon/Clary hints.
Castles in the Air
age five, first meeting;;
It's Simon's first day of kindergarten and he refuses to cry. But he still really, really wants to. But he doesn't want to be like the kid next to him, with boogers all over his face and who really can't color inside the lines. Simon's always been a color inside of the lines kind of person.
The girl sitting on the other side of him has bright, curly red hair and freckles on her nose. She's kind of pretty, and she's actually coloring inside the lines. And she's one of the few girls that aren't crying, so that's a plus.
"I like your picture," he told her, because he really does. It's a picture of a dog, not a stupid flower like the other girl's, and she smiles at him in response. In his five year old stomach he feels a tightening and he doesn't understand why.
"Thanks!" she said back. "Do you want to be my friend?"
"Yep," he replies, popping the 'p' the way he heard his dad do it on the phone with his grandma, effectively sealing both of their fates.
age eight, just a day in the life of;;
"Mooom," Clary called, dragging out the only vowel in the word for as long as she could.
"Oh, by the Angel," Jocelyn replieed, frustrated, bills and all sorts of papers in stacks surrounding her. It's a phrase that he's only heard her use but now it seems as regular as the 'Oh my God' that his mother is practically famous for uttering. "What, Clary? I honestly don't have time for this." It's tax week, and Simon knows better than to bother his parents during this time of the year.
Clary's always been braver than him, though, more willing to putting herself out there, so she isn't perturbed by Jocelyn's tone of voice. "Simon and I want to go the the park. Pleeease?"
"Oh, honestly," the redheaded woman said, putting a hand on her forehead. "I don't care, just be back in an hour." They've grown up in New York City, after all, and so they know not to talk to strangers .
So they go to the park and Simon pushed Clary's swing because she says that she can't do it herself, but she always says that and to be honest Simon doesn't really believe her anymore.
"You should push me," he tells her and watches as she grins.
"No, I can't because I'm the girl and you're the boy. So ha." He stuck his tongue out at her, because that's what his sister always tells him, and goes to play on the monkeybars, because he's always been better than her at that.
age twelve, and he's pretty sure he knows what love is;;
"Hold still, will you?" Clary asked, exasperated, wiping her hair back with a paint covered hand leaving a bright green trail behind. "All I have to do is finish sketching it and then I can paint it and you can give it to your mother."
"And to think this is all because you wouldn't go with me to buy one," Simon sighed, evidently too deeply if Clary's screeches of outrage were any indication. Clary had just gotten what she deemed as 'good' at painting and drawing and had begun practicing nonstop, so when Simon had mentioned that he had forgotten to buy his mom a birthday gift and his sister wouldn't help him Clary had offered to paint a picture of him for her.
If only he had known that she was going to go this crazy.
"You ruined your pose too! Gosh, Simon, you'd think that you didn't want this done in the first place."
"I didn't, you suggested this. I was going to be happy with buying her a hot pad in the shape of a cow," Simon muttered under his breath, and if Clary heard she didn't let on.
Wiping her hands off on her shorts Clary got close enough to him that he could feel goosebumps erupting on the back on his neck. "Here," she said, moving his arm on top of his knee so that his hand dangled off his side. "Don't move again," she commanded, glaring at him in a way that was probably supposed to be frightening, but it came off more like 'cute' than 'bloodcurdling'.
While she touched him he couldn't help but feel what that heroine in that sappy romance movie that his sister had forced him to watch because it was her turn for the TV. His heart was racing and there were tingles where her skin had brushed his, and if Rebecca's movie told him anything, it was that this feeling was love.
Or something.
age fifteen, and he's gonna tell her one day, really;;
"I think that I'm going to take off my glow in the dark stars," Clary announced, looking up at the dimly glowing plastic stars. They really were starting to fade he had to admit. One of the reasons that he liked having them up on her ceiling was because to properly look at them they had to lie side by side on her bed, their shoulders touching.
"Want help?" Simon asked her, because he didn't want to go home just yet. His mom was bringing a date over and the later that he got there to meet her mystery man off that dumb dating site the better.
"Sure," she said and twenty minutes later all of the stars have fallen and landed at her feet, but Simon's always known that they were going to end up there eventually anyway.