Chapter One: Descent

Clary lifted herself up on her toes and wrapped her arms around the taller boy. "I'm going to miss you, Raphael," she said, sighing, and then took a few steps back. It was hard to remember sometimes, that life moved on, ting changed.

"Dios, Clary," Raphael smiled, baring his sparkling white teeth, a sharp contrast against his olive skin. "It's not like I'm moving to another country. You make it sound like I am a dying man. I can always come visit." He shrugged, and Clary knew very well he was right.

"I'm going to miss living next to you. And the smell of burnt food. Especially the smell of burnt food," Clary giggled. Her and Raphael's cooking skills were something they had in common. Clary reached out for the silver cross hanging outside of Raphael's sweater, touching it briefly. Her fingers were soft as a feather over the cold metal. "Well, you take care of yourself, all right?"

Raphael laughed. "I have graduated, I am an old man now," he grinned. Clary nodded, agreeing with them. "Yeah, I think I can spot some strands of greying hair there," she said and pointed towards his inky black hair. Raphael didn't look worried, but still lifted a hand towards his head and brushed it through his hair, making it stick out in all possible directions. He grabbed the suitcase by his feet – few personal belongings, Clary noted, for a person living alone, and, to Clary's surprise, squeezed her tightly to him.

"Gonna miss you, Midget," he said, but there was no rudeness in his voice. "Spanish people," Clary muttered, under her breath. Raphael pretended like he didn't hear her, but began to turn away. It would be strange without him. They had been a quite tight-knit community of international students in the building where she lived, which housed mostly students. Herself, Maia and Simon, her best friend, were all American, but Magnus was from… somewhere in Asia. And of course there was Raphael, but now he was going to move. Clary chewed on her bottom lip.

"Raphael!" she yelled. "Wait!" She jogged up to him. "Who's going to take over the apartment after you? Do you know?" Raphael turned towards her, a little smirk tugging in one corner of his mouth. "Looking to replace me already, eh?" He said, a mocking tone in his voice, and he tried to fake a hurt expression. "I don't know. A boy."

"Wow Raphael, thanks for the enlightenment." Clary rolled her eyes and sighed. "Is that really what you know? The gender?"

"I don't like to pry. People should be entitled to some privacy, don't you think?" He shrugged. "I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Well, as long as he can make bacon and eggs without burning down his kitchen, he'll be better than you at least." Clary giggled and thought about the one time she had helped Raphael peel off the layer of soot and burnt bacon from his oven. Raphael just smiled. "Well, you'll find out about your new neighbour soon enough. He'll be here later today."

"Really?" Clary said. "But… you just left!"

"Well, the new semester is literally starting tomorrow, so this is last chance to move."

"I guess you are right," Clary said and sighed. "Come over some day?" Raphael nodded. "Sure thing, Midget." He laughed and turned around.

"I am actually over five feet you know, just for the record!" Clary yelled after him, and she was certain she could hear him laugh and saying something softly in Spanish. She sighed and went back into the building, closing the door firmly behind her. Clary looked up at the spiralling stairs over her head. She absolutely loved the place where she lived – yes, it was an old building in serious need of a new layer of paint, and it had been divided up into lots of small apartments, but you could easily see it had once been a beautiful house.

Clary began walking up the stairs and stopped at the third floor. There it was, 3F. Her apartment. She was quite proud of it; she managed to pay the rent all by herself by working part time at a café close to the university, without any financial support from either of her parents. She locked herself in, kicked off her shoes – the best thing about living by yourself was, of course, that you didn't have to clean up all the time. Clary crossed the living room and sat down in the sofa, picking up her sketchpad and pencil. She was trying to figure out the composition for a larger piece she was supposed to hand in in a couple of weeks' time and she just couldn't seem to figure it out.

She envisioned an angel, with massive, soft wings in white and pale gold. His hair was golden too – half long and rumbled by an unseen wind, his torso bare and his face looking at something in the distance, with wonder in her eyes. Even though her subject was positively handsome, there was nothing sexually suggestive by the angel's pose – his gaze was filled with admiration, curiosity and awe. But there was something that just… didn't seem to work about it.

She had imagined drawing only in grayscale, but with specs of golden paint for his wings and hair. Clary wanted to capture the surreal atmosphere, but somehow it all just seemed artificial and somewhat cheesy. The idea had seemed good in her head. She sighed, teared out the page from her sketchbook, crumpled it and tossed it behind her. Clary discarded the idea and decided she would have to just come up with another idea.

However, she didn't get to begin as she heard a knock on her door. "Biscuit?" A slow, almost purring voice could be heard on the outside of the door. "The new guy is here." Clary got up from the sofa, crossed the room and opened the door, only to meet Magnus' smiling face. His hair was spiked, each tip electric blue – they had been scarlet red the last time Clary had seen him – he had yellow cat-eye lenses on and was dressed in a shirt which matched hair and tight leather pants. This was surprisingly normal for Magnus's taste, Clary thought and tried to supress a smile.

"Oh, all right," she replied. "Do you know if Simon is here yet?" Magnus shook his spiked head and Clary could almost swear she had seen glitter flying from the black mass of hair. "Nope, haven't heard him at least. My bet is on band practice." As Clary though about it, all the occupants of the building where she lived was quite artistic. The residents she knew, at least. She studied art herself, Simon studied music and Magnus was a drama major. Maia studied Italian, but damn, she knew that girl had a good singing voice.

Clary nodded. "Yeah. He'll be disappointed that he wasn't here when the new guy came – he's just as curious as me," she giggled. Magnus took her arm and they walked down the stairs, but Magnus stopped when they came to a window. Magnus leaned towards it, peeking out.

"Magnus, what are you-"

"Shh," he said. "It's always wise to look at people at a distance first before you get to know them." Clary was about to ask if he had done the same when she had moved in, but didn't bother. She leaned towards the window and felt Magnus leaning over her, almost making her squeeze her face into the cold glass.

"My, my," Magnus muttered, "there's a new hottie in town." If Clary hadn't known better, she would have thought he spoke about the girl down on the porch in front of us. She had long, raven-black hair, pale skin and sported heels that had to be at least six inches tall. Clary was happy she knew better; the girl looked like the kind of girls Clary always had felt a little intimidated by, but she knew Magnus wasn't into that kind of girls. In fact, he wasn't into girls at all.

"Blondie? I don't know Magnus, he seems a little… unapproachable." More like cold, Clary thought for herself. But Magnus hadn't been lying; the man standing next to the black-haired girl had golden hair, was tall and lean, but Clary decided he was definitely athletic – the muscles was clearly defined under his fitted, black t-shirt.

Magnus chuckled. "I didn't mean him either. I meant him," Magnus said and pointed towards a dark haired boy, who stood a few steps behind the two persons Clary had spotted first. Judging from the black hair and pale skin, Clary decided he had to be related to the girl. Making out his features from where they stood were difficult, so Clary just turned around towards Magnus. "Why not?" Said Clary. "I say go for it. You could need a little romance."

"Says you." Clary just rolled her eyes in response.

"Well, are we going to spy on possible new neighbours and rate their looks, or should we go and say something like "hi", perhaps?"

Magnus shrugged. "I don't really mind standing here."

"Maybe your boy has a personality to go with those looks," Clary teased.

"He's not my boy," Magnus said slowly. "Yet," finished Clary with a big grin. Magnus could compete with a Christmas tree about who wore the most glitter, but if you looked away from that, Magnus was very handsome. Magnus smiled towards Clary, took her arm and dragged her down the stairs. Clary had to blink a couple of times to adjust her eyes to the bright day outside when Magnus opened the door. The three persons were still there, chatting loudly with each other while taking out large boxes from a rental car.

"Hi," the girl said, noticing them. "I'm Isabelle. Isabelle Lightwood." She turned towards the boys. "And these two are my brothers, Alec and Jace." There had been no need for Isabelle to say that she and the black haired boy were siblings; the only difference Clary could notice between them was Isabelle's dark eyes and Alec's startling blue ones.

However, she looked confused from the boy, Jace, to Isabelle and Alec. They didn't look anything alike. Where the two of them were fair skinned and dark haired, Jace was all gold. Messy, honey-coloured hair falling down his face in silky ringlets, tanned skin and tawny eyes – a very striking colour, Clary noticed.

"I'm adopted," Jace said nonchalantly when he saw Clary's expression. "My last name is Herondale, not Lightwood." Clary chewed thoughtfully on the inside of her cheek, unable to reply. Magnus was the one to break the silence.

"So, where in the US are you from?" Magnus asked. Clary sighed, unfortunately audibly. "Sorry," she said quickly. "It's just that we are so many from the states here already. It seems like when I moved, the whole of the US decided to come here," she said and rolled her eyes.

Isabelle smiled. "Don't worry about it. And we're from New York." Clary's heart sank. Just please don't know anyone I do and we'll be all right, she thought.

"Except me," Jace shot in. "I'm British." Clary nodded.

"I could actually hear that," she said.

"No way, how could you? My deepest secret is revealed," Jace exclaimed in an exaggerated British accent. Clary rolled her eyes.

"So, which one of you are going to live here?"

"That would be me," Jace said. Clary tried not to scowl. Everything about Jace, from his smirk to his arrogant posture, told Clary that he was far from the calm, silent neighbour she had hoped she would get, but she guessed she had to give the guy a chance. First impressions weren't everything.

"Do you want help carrying the boxes up?" Clary asked in a polite, but slightly reserved tone. Jace looked at her, his eyes skimming down her body. She felt the urge to hide herself and tried to fight it. Jace laughed.

"You'd probably break under the weight of the boxes," he smirked. "You are so tiny."

"I'm not that tiny!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, you are. And I, Alec and Izzy will be fine by ourselves. I don't have that much stuff with my anyways. You could always show us the apartment though?" Jace bent down and scooped up two large boxes. When he lifted them, they almost reached from his mid-waist to his chin, like a small tower. His muscles coiled under the weight, but it didn't seem to bother him more than if he was carrying a small kitten.

Clary rolled her eyes, but nodded. "Fine," she sighed, and turned around towards the building, expecting them to follow. "Where's the elevator?" Jace asked.

"There is none," Clary said happily.

"No elevator?" Jace sighed. "What kind of dumpster is this place?"

"It's no dumpster!" Clary said, anger creeping into her voice. "It has soul. Just ask Magnus, he'll agree." She turned around, but he wasn't there – he was standing outside, next to Alec, obviously talking enthusiastically. She smiled for herself. She didn't know why, but she felt Alec could be really good for Magnus, as long as he didn't make him use less glitter. Clary liked the glitter.

"So, here Maia lives," Clary said while they walked past the first floor. "She lives in the first apartment. Next to her there are some Italians, but I can never remember their names. And Sebastian Verlac – he's French. I and Magnus live on the second floor. My best friend Simon is on third, right above my apartment. He was a bit unlucky – he lives next to Madame Dorothea. She's a witch, and old, so I don't really understand why she's allowed to live here." The apartments were originally intended for students only. "Her whole apartment smells of incense."

"You know all the people who live here?"

Clary shook her head. "No, I'm not that good at remembering names," she shrugged. "Or that outgoing, she said to herself, but didn't mention it to the boy. She didn't want to seem like a complete loner in front of her new neighbour. She was intent on becoming his friend, just as she had been with Raphael.

"There's my apartment," Clary said and pointed. "And there's yours, right next to mine."

"Ah… I should probably warn you, you might hear sounds at night."

"Sounds?"

"Come on," he said and smirked. "Screams, moaning, the occasional laugh perhaps…"

"Oh," Clary said in confusion. "Oh," she said again as she realised what he had meant.

"Yeah, they kind of say it like that. But with my name at the end. Oh Jac-" Without thinking more about it, Clary lunged her arm forward and placed her palm firmly over Jace's mouth. "Please," she begged. She felt his lips moving against her skin, before he realised he tried to speak. It sounded like "they say that as well." Clary tried her best not to gag and removed her hand, not wanting to touch the filthy specimen in front of her.

"Can you take out my keys? They are in the left pocket of my pants." Clary looked at him, his golden eyes challenging. He thought she didn't dare. Well, even if he was a male version of a nymphomaniac, Clary wasn't afraid. God damn it, she wasn't eight anymore; she was over the stage where sexual organs were embarrassing to talk about. She reached forward and felt the fabric of his black jeans against her fingertips. "Nice, you're so short I don't even have to lift this box," Jace said. She could hear the smile in his voice. "That's because I'm bending down, dumbass."

She searched around in his pocket for a few seconds – pockets in boy's jeans were so gigantic. What were they supposed to have in there, anyways? A phone and money, all right, but also a week's worth shopping of groceries? Clary tried to ignore the feeling of Jace's warm skin seeping through the fabric of his pants. A douchebag or not, they were standing very, very close. Clary felt her cheeks flush slightly, took a deep breath to calm her hammering heart, fished out the key and turned quickly towards the door to prevent Jace from seeing her face.

Clary opened the door and entered Jace's apartment. The layout was completely alike hers; a narrow hallway leading into a combined kitchen and living room, with two doors she knew led into a bath and a bedroom. "Home, sweet home, huh?"

Jace nodded and placed the box on the floor, and in the same moment Clary heard someone knock on the door next to Jace's apartment. She looked out into the long corridor. "Simon?" She had guessed correctly; the lanky boy in front of her had short brown hair, kind eyes and a t-shirt a printed on text; "Geek? I prefer the term intellectual badass."

"You have to meet Jace, our new neighbour!" She didn't know why she sounded enthusiastic – Jace didn't even seem that nice. But at the same time, she really wanted to like him.

"Simon, this is Jace. Jace, this is Simon."

Simon smiled to Jace and moved a few inches closer to Clary. "Are you tired?" He usually was after band practice, but Simon shook his head. "Liar," Clary said and smiled fondly at him.

"So Jace… what do you study?" Simon asked the other boy to keep the conversation going.

"Music," Jace said with a smirk. Clary raised her eyebrows – she had to admit that was unexpected. If she could have guessed, she would have thought Jace took a really posh subject, like Law or Business or something. It would have explained the arrogance at least. Simon, however, lightened up. "What kind of instrument do you play?"

"The piano. The ladies loves it." Clary rolled her eyes and could clearly picture it; Jace playing some romantic ballad for a girl, practically drooling over him. "But I am teaching myself how to play the guitar and violin as well."

"Three instruments?" Simon said, a mixture of awe and shock in his voice.

"What can I say? I'm a musical genius."

"I bet he isn't that good Simon. It's better to practice one instrument and specialise in that, than having average skill with three." Simon smiled towards Clary.

"I do music too, you know." His tone was light, but Clary could hear the slight disgust in it. "I play the guitar. Maybe we could play together sometime? I could teach you how to play the guitar, and perhaps you can teach me the piano?"

"Yes, and then we can be soul mates and start our own band!" Jace faked an overly enthusiastic tone. Simon sighed. "I'm going upstairs now. I have a lot of homework, but it was nice to meet you." His voice was flat.

Clary turned towards Jace. "Was that really necessary?" She asked, anger in her voice. She turned around and stormed after Simon, leaving Jace alone. After a while, he slowly turned around and looked around in one of the boxes, searching for something. He hadn't been supposed to lose his control around Clary like that, but there was something about her that made him want to challenge her. Test her limits. Just an unforeseen consequence, but nothing he couldn't handle. Jace felt cold metal under his hands. The gun was made in dark, brushed steel, and Jace wrapped his fingers carefully around it. He had never used it before, but it still felt comfortable to the touch. An extension of his own arm. It's all right, he reassured himself. It's all going to be all right.

A/N: So, this is actually my first proper fanfiction! I am really excited for this, and will try to update as often as I can. I hope you enjoy it, and please tell me what you think xxx