I.

For the first time in a long time, Isabelle felt worse for Simon than she did for herself.

He looked so lost. So confused. Clary had been clinging to him all night, but now the duty of being the bride's daughter called her away and Simon was sitting at one of the empty tables in the wedding hall, alone. She liked the way he no longer looked exhausted and sad and pale, but she still wasn't accustomed to the blush on his cheeks or the length of his hair.

She walked up to him anyways.

"Can I sit?" Isabelle asked him, drawing his attention away from his phone and up toward her.

"Sure." He stared at her. Isabelle was use to boys staring at her, but this was different. Usually boys looked at her like they didn't know her but they hoped they could. Simon was looking at her like he didn't know her and he wasn't sure if he ever had. "Remind me your name?"

"Isabelle."

Her voice didn't waver. It did not.

"Isabelle." He said, testing it out. He smiled at her. "I knew it was something pretty like that."

"But you didn't know it." She huffed.

"Hey, I'm trying." Simon responded, a bit defensively. "There's a lot of people claiming to be my friends from my past life. Apparently I was very popular."

She was silent. Isabelle didn't know what to say, so she just stared down at the hem of her dress and twirled her Lightwood family ring around her finger. Simon cleared his throat and she remembered when they first met and he'd been just as awkward, if not more, than he was now.

"I'm trying, Isabelle." He finally said through the silence. "Give me some time."

II.

The ice in her water was melting and Simon still hadn't walked through the door.

It took him 45 minutes and two waiters asking Isabelle if she was going to order before Simon finally rushed into the diner and collapsed across from her in the booth she'd claimed. His hair was messy and his eyes were wide and admittedly it was adorable, but Isabelle glared at him anyways.

"I'm going to start my 5 part apology by saying that you look really pretty." Simon declared.

"Did you fall asleep?" Isabelle asked. She scanned his bedraggled appearance again. "On the street?"

He grinned at that, his hands immediately moving up to fix his hair. "I was talking to my sister. I hardly see her, anyways, since I started at the Academy and I just really wanted to see her and I…forgot that I was supposed to meet you?" He grimaced at his own explanation. "I'm sorry."

"And does your sister have a rule against hairbrushes?"

"Okay, ouch." He looked rightfully wounded. "I did technically fall asleep before I saw her but I didn't know you were so terribly entrenched in appearances."

Isabelle smirked. "I wouldn't care if you'd shown up on time."

III.

"Okay, Simon," Magnus spoke in that weird tone he always used with patients, "Isabelle is here now. She brought Clary and Jace with her. Don't try and sit up just yet, okay?"

"Isabelle?" Simon asked. His voice was hoarse and sleepy and Jace smirked at the sound of it. They all sat around Simon's current bed in the infirmary, looking down at him with expressions of both worry and amusement. He stared up at Isabelle, eyes dazed. "Who are you?"

Clary's whipped her head up to glare at Magnus so fast that her neck was in danger of snapping. "Why doesn't he remember us?"

"I remember you, Clary." Simon insisted, reaching up to tug on her curls, "and I remember Jack." He put his hand up to clumsily prod at Jace's shoulder.

"Should I be offended?" Jace muttered.

"Not as offended as I should be." Isabelle replied, scooting her chair closer to Simon's bed. "Si, it's me. It's Isabelle."

He stared back uncomprehendingly.

"It's the painkiller I gave him." Magnus finally explained, clearly amused by the loopy almost-Shadowhunter on the bed. "He's delirious. Don't worry, it'll wear off in a few hours. It was either this or excruciating pain, so you can deal with your boyfriend's second bout of amnesia, right?"

"Boyfriend?" Simon echoed. "I'm her boyfriend?"

"You are." Isabelle confirmed. "Not that you knew that but—"

"But you're so pretty," Simon breathed, his glazed over eyes lighting up. He wonderingly reached a hand up and tugged on her side ponytail, as if to check and see if she was actually real. "Why are you dating me? I'm not…I mean…why?"

Isabelle didn't really know how to respond to that. There were a lot of reasons she could give him as to why she was dating him but none that she particularly wanted to say in front of Clary, Magnus, and Jace, who was currently grinning up at the ceiling like she wouldn't notice if he didn't make eye contact with her.

Instead of saying anything, she just leaned in a planted a kiss on his forehead, careful not to jostle his bandaged side. "Because every time you remember me," she told him gently, "you say things like that."

+I

"Your hair was falling over your left shoulder, but not your right one. On your right side it was pulled back and your veil was framing your face so perfectly, Iz, it was perfect—"

"Simon, I've heard this before." She smiled into her pillow. "This isn't a new story."

"I'm adding something to the end this time, shh." He shifted in bed so that she was resting her head against his abdomen and continued. "Anyways, so you walked down the aisle and it felt like a year, waiting there for you to get to the altar—"

"Still the same story," Isabelle murmured, "and I was there for this, remember?"

"Oh my God you are unbearably impatient." Simon laughed, nudging her. "But listen, this part I've never said before. I forgot about you more times than I'd originally planned. But I swear on my life, Isabelle Lightwood, I will never forget the way you looked that day."

"Good story," she declared, reaching up to kiss him, "almost as good as Star Wars."