Jace POV
She was in the training room when I finally found her, beating the crap out of a punching bag making these little sounds of exhaustion that were as cute as they were genuine. I admired her long limbs as she threw them out from her body with the utmost control, while her golden hair blew behind her in its typical French braid. Clary was too preoccupied to notice me in the doorway, and I didn't want to startle her.
"Bad day?" I said loudly, smirking. I instantly regretted the sarcasm when she turned to me. The tears glittered on her cheeks as her eyes fixed on mine in an expression of pure heart break. "Oh, Clary, what's happened?" I go to her, pulling her hands away from her eyes as she tries to rub the tears away. As she begins to speak, her expression morphs into fury.
"Sebastian. He's been sleeping with Camille this entire time. Our entire fucking relationship! All a lie. They were in my goddamn bed and I, I…" Clary breaks off, looking down as her eyes fill again. I feel as if all her fury has flowed into me with her words. I drop her hands for fear of hurting her accidentally and lash out at the punchbag myself.
"For fuck's sake! How could he do that to you, how could anyone do that to you! Do they not see what they have?" The words are spilling out of my mouth and I'm widely gesturing towards Clary, who looks a little taken aback, but I can't seem to stop. "You are a fucking angel, and he gave you up for a twisted little downworld slut." She looks at me in horror. "Oh god, dammit I'm sorry Clary I know I can't be helping. Fuck!" I punch the bag one last time, so hard that the frame rattles. With a few deep breaths I regain my composure, thinking of each rune on my body, its position and its meaning. It's a routine I have whenever my anger gets the better of me. I listen to Clary's shallow breathing behind me as she comes closer.
"You are helping, Jace." She says in a tiny voice. "Watching you, it was kinda like you were getting all my anger out for me," Clary muses, "and if you did want to help, there's a massive favour you might be able to do for me?" She phrases it as a question, her voice trailing off at the end, as if she's worried I'll say no. As if I would, as if I could!
"Anything, Clary, anything at all."
"Well, when I found them I stormed out the apartment, but all of my things are still there, and I would just really appreciate it if someone could help me pack everything up and take it wherever the hell I'm going to go next. God, I didn't even think about where I'm going to take everything, there isn't room for me here and I wouldn't like it anyway. I don't want to inconvenience you, it's just, well, with help I can get it done faster, and don't really want to run into Seb, you know? And I might need the moral support." Clary grimaces, but it doesn't suit her elegant features.
"Of course!" I answer, maybe too quickly, because she looks up at me, surprised. Before I can help it, the words I have been thinking for the last minute tumble out of my mouth. "You could stay with me? My apartment is close to the institute, there's a second bedroom and we wouldn't have to share a bathroom. I understand if you don't want to, I just want to help." This time it's my voice that trails off, and I look awkwardly at the floor. Clary is the only girl, hell the only person, around whom I have ever experienced awkwardness. With everyone else witty comments, sarcasm and deflection from topics too deep for my liking always come naturally, but whenever I'm around Clary my mouth seems to cease all communications with my brain.
Clary is looking at me with a strange expression, an uncomfortable mix between gratitude and wariness. "Are you sure?" she says slowly, "I promise not to be any trouble, and I'll cook for you to make up for it? Anyone who grew up in the same house as Izzy must surely appreciate a good cook." Clary attempts to smile, but her face doesn't really cooperate. Her joke has the desired effect though, because I relax and smile back, what I hope is a warm, comforting smile.
"Clary, what was it Alec said? 'I've known this girl five days and she's already more trouble than she's worth'? You aren't trouble, per se, it just finds you! But now it will find me too, and I'll kick its ass." She grins reluctantly. "What time did you want to go get your things?"
"As soon as possible really," Clary smiles apologetically, "I don't want to be there when Seb gets home from work." The smile fades almost painfully, and I have another rush of my earlier anger, the desire to beat his 'I'm too good for you' face in fighting to break through my barriers of control.
Before the anger can surge again, I attempt a bright smile. "Well, I don't have any plans. Let's get this out of the way, and we'll have a nice, chill evening." Before Clary can hesitate, because I can sense she's about to ask me if I'm sure again, I take her by the arm and lead her from the training room.
We were at her apartment in 10 minutes flat. I'd only been in there once and I looked around curiously, trying to gather any possible information about Clary's personal life, which she keeps so well hidden, well, from me at least. In my opinion, the apartment is bland, boring. White walls, furniture, plain wooden floors. No colour and no mess. When we reached the bedroom, I hesitated at the door. I can't stand the sight of the bed, the bed where Clary has lain with Sebastian, and now where Sebastian has lain with Camille. I could see Clary blanching too, so determinedly I pulled her into the room with me, and helped her reach the bags on top of the wardrobe. I didn't mention the tears that were streaming down her cheeks as she threw clothes into the suitcases.
In less than an hour, all of Clary's belongings were loaded into my car. I had tried to convince her to play some kind of mean trick on Sebastian in an attempt to cheer her up, but she just looked exasperated and I realised she just wanted to get out. Leave him behind forever. Well, it's his loss. The spare bedroom in my apartment is a nice size, with a huge bed. Clary flopped down when we got there, sprawled on her back and surrounded by her bags. The bed dwarfed her, like a tiny puppy sleeping on a dog's bed. I offered to help her unpack but she politely asked for some space, and although I didn't want to leave her, I closed the door behind me and made sure the spare bathroom was stocked up with all the appropriate commodities. Realising I didn't have any decent food in the house, I scrawled a quick note to Clary saying that I had just popped to the shops, and I wouldn't be long.
I came back with a variety of food, but I bought a couple of Clary's favourites, hoping she could give me a good recipe. She was already in the kitchen. She had made me a cup of tea, and was staring into the bare fridge with her hands on her hips. I held up the bags in offering, and she smiled, relieved.
"I did wonder what we were going to eat! Not the most exciting selection in here." Though her eyes were red from crying, her voice sounded upbeat and positive, and I hoped that I could provide a decent distraction for the rest of the evening.
"I bought a couple of things you've mentioned you like, if you could point me in the right direction as to what to do with them? I can cook, you really don't have to-" Clary cut me off.
"Hey, I said I would, didn't I? I'm a good cook, promise." She made a cross across her heart, and the childish gesture made me grin.
"Okay, take it away, boss!" I leaned back against the counter, sipping my tea and watching her work, pointing out which cupboards contained which things. Clary made steak stir fry, the delicious aroma filling my living area. I did have a dining table, but I usually ate on the sofa and the table was all cluttered up with books, so we watched TV while we ate. Clary giggled occasionally at Brooklyn 99, and I was glad of her good mood. My plan was to keep the distractions up until she was worn out, so that she could go straight to sleep. I knew how painful it would be lying awake, overthinking every word Sebastian had said, every action.
When we had finished eating, I insisted that dessert was my job, and told her to put on a movie. After thoroughly judging my DVD collection, she put on a silly comedy, and curled herself into a tiny ball on one side of the sofa. I had bought all the right things at the store, ice cream, chocolate-covered strawberries, all the sorts of things girls eat in movies when they're sad. I didn't know if real life girls did this too – I didn't have a whole lot of experience with the emotional side of girls – but all the food sounded good to me. I returned with bowls upon bowls of sweet treats, and Clary gaped at me.
"Wow, you really went the whole nine yards, I'm guessing you took inspiration from some of those awful DVDs you've got down there." She smirked, and I blushed a little and handed her a bowl as a peace offering. She grinned at dug in, moaning through her mouth-full of ice cream. "You did good, Jace, thanks." Clary's smile was genuinely grateful and warm as she looked over at me, and that made it all worthwhile.
After we were full to busting with dessert, and Clary was shivering from all the ice cream, I threw her a blanket to wrap herself in while we finished the film. Her earlier happiness seemed to have waned, and I wanted so badly to pull her tiny body into my arms, rub her back and kiss her hair, soothe her. But Clary remained curled up at the other end of the sofa, and I didn't want to move over to her and make her uncomfortable. Mostly, I was worried she would think I was making a move on her, since she is familiar, as is everyone else at the institute, with my reputation. I was angry at myself for a moment, for having that reputation. It wasn't that I didn't want Clary that way, God, I did, and I always had, but right now I just wanted to be there for her, nothing more. She noticed me watching her and turned to me, looking embarrassed. I realised she was crying again, tears soaking the blanket she had pulled around her chin.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled through her sobs, which were louder now that she wasn't trying to hide, "I'm such a mess, don't worry, I'll leave you alone." She sounded so defeated that my breath caught in my throat.
"Clary, wait," I caught her arm as she went past me, "I just want to help you, if you want to be alone then go, but if there's anything I can do-" all of a sudden she was in my arms. I pulled her closer, she was holding me tightly, arms around my neck like a lifeline as she sobbed into my shoulder. I stroked my hands firmly up and down her back, smoothing her hair. I wished that I knew what to say, but there were no words for what she had to be feeling. Clary and I were close, even if we didn't spend much time together out of the institute, since Sebastian hadn't liked that, especially if it was just her and I. I knew that Clary, for some unknown reason, had very little self-confidence, and I afraid that this had knocked her back even further. She felt vulnerable in my arms, small as she was. She always surprised me in training, for she was so strong for her size. I had to remind myself every time that I didn't need to be as gentle with her as I thought, she could hold her own against me easily. Of course, it didn't help that whenever I was fighting with her, I was fighting my own internal battle too. A battle between the parts of my brain that wanted to admire her toned stomach, wanted to watch the muscles move beneath her back and in her strong legs. The parts of my brain that were really, desperately trying not to stare at that perfect butt. I promise, they were trying. But most of the time they failed, I got distracted, and the parts of my brain that were trying to anticipate Clary's next move, trying to evade and get the upper hand, would sigh in exasperation as I got my ass kicked by a girl a foot shorter than me.
Belatedly, I realised Clary was talking to me. "Your shirt's all wet," she said guiltily, the sobs almost subsided now, "I'm really sorry, I sort of attacked you." She wouldn't look at me as she moved out of my lap to sit beside me, staring at her hands in her lap.
"It doesn't bother me Clary," this was a lie, I hated seeing her like this, "I will do anything to help you, I mean it, I hate that you're hurting." I hadn't really meant to say this last part, and Clary looked at me with some surprise, unused to me showing emotions so strongly.
In a tiny voice she spoke again, and I had to concentrate to hear her. "You are helping, I really needed that, to be…" she hesitated, glancing away again, "to be held. I needed to fall apart, but I needed you to hold me together while I did." She smiled shyly, and I wanted to tell her I would hold her every night if I could, but I didn't think that would be taken the right way. "I'm going to go to bed now, thank you so much for letting me stay here, really, I don't know where I would have gone."
"It's not a problem, Clary. I think I might enjoy the company, and especially the cooking." I winked at her, and she giggled a little, before standing up, wearing the blanket like a cape. She didn't move for a second, then slowly, as if her body was unsure of the movements, she bent and kissed me on the cheek. "Sleep well, Jace," she murmured as she walked away.