He couldn't separate his eyes from her – from the only girl he would ever love.
Her hand lay in his, but he didn't dare come closer to her. She was someone whom he shouldn't love, not romantically. The feelings that burned inside his heart weren't something one felt for one's own sister.
She looked so peacefully in her sleep, her eyeballs rolling behind her eyelids while she was dreaming. He wondered if she dreamed about him, if he was important enough to her that the sight of his face could occupy her mind when she couldn't control it. He wanted to believe so badly that he was. But she was an angel after all. She loved even the ones she shouldn't. And he, he was a demon – a creature not worthy of love. But as angelic as she was, she loved him, believed in him. She had said it herself.
He had believed once that their love was possible. That time seemed so distant now, even though it had been only a couple of weeks ago. He had believed in their love, he had felt it – or he had thought that he felt it. He had believed he was human, someone who could feel love. But demons didn't feel love – at least not pure, real love.
He had tried to let her go, to forget his love for her, but she had made him feel so hopeless. There was no chance he would ever forget her. She was like a rune that lasted forever, forever engraved into the very core of his being. He couldn't separate his thoughts from her any more than he could pull his own heart out of his chest. He tried to hide the pain that her very appearance awakened within him, but she saw the truth every time she looked into his eyes, just like he saw the truth in hers. Love bound them and there was no hope of that bond ever being broken.
But he was broken. This love, a romance between siblings, was his fault. He was the evil sibling, the one who had somehow tricked his own sister into loving him. He wanted her, just her and no other girl. It was a cruel desire of his, and he had somehow made her feel that desire too.
He remembered the angel Ithuriel, that poor creature their father had kept imprisoned for so long. He remembered his words about the bloods in their veins, both very powerful, but one of heaven and one of hell. He remembered their father, the coldness of his eyes as he told them the truth at Renwick's.
He closed his eyes, forced them shut. He wanted to erase the past. He didn't want it to exist. He wanted to start all over again, never to find out all those painful truths. It was more than he could bear, more than he was willing to see her bear.
But the reality was merciless. Erasing the past was impossible. All he could do was face his future.
His fingers curled around a piece of fabric that was hidden in his pocket. It would help him track down Sebastian and find his father. He was the only one who could do it. He had nothing to lose anymore. The only valuable thing he still possessed was his love for her. That was why he had come to see her tonight, to say farewell, even if she wouldn't be awake to hear it.
He looked at her now, remembering their talk before she had fallen asleep. He had told her that he wanted only this one night with her, the last night before the battle that could cost them their lives.
But he had lied, like all demons did. He wanted to fall asleep next to her and wake up next to her for the rest of his life. His heart was telling him that this was where he belonged, but he kept remembering they had the same blood running through their veins. He didn't belong with her, he shouldn't belong with her. But the thought of a life without her frightened him. It was the only thing beside their father that had ever managed to frighten him. He could guess – or at least hope that he guessed it right – that the thought of a life without him scared her too.
He moved his hand away from hers gently, careful not to wake her up. Her face frowned for a moment, as if she had felt the lack of his body on the mattress, but her eyes remained shut.
He found a piece of paper and a pencil and started writing. It was the only way he could explain to her what he was about to do. He knew he couldn't leave while looking her in those green eyes, couldn't bear the sorrow he knew he would see in them. He had to sneak like a thief out her bedroom, running to meet his doom, but maybe also her salvation. It would definitely be suitable; doom for a demon, salvation for an angel.
You should have run away from me when you still could. He thought, his eyes wandering between the paper and her face. You should have left me, banish me away from yourself. You should have taken all the shadows that remind me of you away. Maybe we wouldn't be as hurt as we are now. Maybe my death will free us both. Maybe we won't feel this pain anymore.
But he knew she would never truly abandon him. Whatever lay beyond death, he knew somehow it wouldn't be powerful enough to erase his memories of her. He would never let her go; he would follow her wherever she went. Maybe he couldn't be her guardian angel, but he fit perfectly into the description of a fallen angel. He was fighting a battle he had already lost a long time ago. He tried to stay close to heaven, but he was only falling deeper and deeper into the abyss.
Here he was now, in the only place he wanted to be and the only place he shouldn't be. He was in paradise, but he was lost. He wandered, trying to find something that couldn't be found. A place – a time – a life – in which he could be with her. But no such thing could be found there.
The letter was almost finished. All he needed was an ending, something that could tell her how much he wanted that things were different. Something that didn't lie in this world, but not even in the next one. Her face, gorgeous and calm in her sleep, was like a dream.
Dream. He wished he didn't have to wake up. You're my dream, the one I never dared dream and the one I'll always dream.
He finished the letter, put it on the pillow next to her head and got out of the room through the window. A battle was waiting for him.
Among the curls of red hair lay a piece of paper. The name on top of it – Clary – marked the person the letter was for. Its last sentence, full of care and love, said:
As long as I can still dream, I will dream of you.
-Jace
