Clary had always lived along the sidelines, always watching, never watched. She had never known a time in her life when the spotlight was on hers. And thinking back now, maybe it was all in Jocelyn's plans for her to blend into the background.

She had never wanted attention. She was perfectly happy with the bubble she shared with Simon. While Simon thirsted for attention, in more ways than one, Clary was perfectly happy hiding behind Simon's shadows. She was calibrated to treat her natural state of existence as Simon's friend (tug-along, shadow, medium, center of his universe)

(Nothing is what I was expecting, she said. )

And so when she saw these... things, people that only she could see, it was like finding a world of people living along the sidelines and are perfectly happy with it.

A world full of people like her. A world full of people who lets the rest of the universe go on in their merry way, and be content with gliding through the motions, propelled to motion by the momentum of the surrounding.

And though she may not crave for the limelight, the sense of belonging beckoned her, lured her into the dark and seductive world of Shadowhunters.

It doesn't hurt that the one who reached out a hand to invite her into this world was the most gorgeous, kindhearted, heartbreaking guy she had ever set her eyes on.

Clary didn't believe in love at first sight. But she did believe that a person's life was full of events that marked the beginning of another chapter. Events that once happened, everything would be irrevocable. Everything would change. Forever.

So no, she didn't believe in love at first sight; she just believed that stumbling down the world of the Shadowhunters was marked by seeing Jace for the first time in her life, and then her life was changed.

She thought she was happy with watching the world move around her. She thought she was content with Simon, her mom and Luke. She never needed anyone else, and not wanting anyone else, either.

But Jace broke through her small world, shattering the sky open to an even bigger place (world? universe? she doesn't even know what to call this umbrella anymore. she doesn't even care whatever it was called anymore.), even more beautiful, tempting her into everything she didn't know she craved.

Jace had given her friends she didn't know she needed. He gave her direction when she was pulled into all directions. He gave her love-sweet, sweet love she only read from books, watched from people around her before.

He gave her her first kiss, as magical as the enchanted flowers that bloomed around them.

He pulled her closer to him, his warmth enveloping her. She wouldn't call it magical; she had passed magical after the first touch of his tongue against her lips.

She could feel his hand trail her spine to the small of her back before slowly spanning her waist. Over and over, slowly, tortuously. She could still feel the shimmer of the garden, the faint thrumming of beautiful magic. And with his touch, she felt like all these energy around them were siphoned to her skin, warmth and slightly insulated by the fabric of her thin shirt. His other hand combing through her red locks.

She had never considered herself beautiful, just a plain, washed-off version of her mother, the radiant Jocelyn. But in his arms, as he find worship of her sighs and moans, his gentle caresses made her feel powerful.

But most importantly, he gave her a brother she never really imagined to have before.

Inch by inch, they discovered each other. As spans of skin were revealed, the touches started to burn more intensely. They were branding each other: with his fingers skimming the side of her breast; her fingers mapping his chest, his abdomen; his thumb flicking her nipple.

He drank her kisses, and intoxicated her with everything that isJace. The groans, the nips-He traced small kisses along her jawline, praying to the Angel thanks be to you-

He gave her memories. For every little while, she would ignore the glaring fact that they are siblings. Emotions could not be altered, but she could control her actions. There wouldn't be any continuum in their story. Theirs would be bursts of clarity and taint. Not until Jace would stop drowning in guilt and hurt and sadness and siblings, brothers&sisters.

She would think about the world he had given her. She would think about her mother, her father, and not their parents. She would think about Jace, the boy who had too much on his back, but gave so much to the people he loves. She would think about everything he had given her.

The sighs, the fleeting touches, the tiny trail of heat, the stars and this whole other world of just them. Everything.

She gripped his shoulders a little too harder than she probably should. She was sure that there would be crescent marks there later, and for the life of her, it only fed the roaring fire burning inside her.

He had her against the oak doors of the garden. Their moans were drowned by tinkling of the blooming flowers. Her legs were wrapped around his slim waist, her heels dug on his rear, trying to anchor on to him lest she fall, fall into this looming pit of white, pure white something she can't quite define yet. Her arms were wrapped around his shoulder, her hand cradling his nape, trying to direct his wandering lips from her neck-delicious spot as it was he was suckinglickingkissing-to her lips, asking for him.

Wanting for his kisses, when she never wanted anything else.

And he would give. Oh, he would give. With open mouths and tongues seeking each other.

(For him, this is the closest to being sacred he could be...)

And she would take everything he had to give. She would take, and hold on to it for as long as she could, until the next marker comes and changes everything.

(...in sinning with his sister.)