Found this on my computer today...I wrote it in April and don't think that I planned on posting it, but hey, what's the point in keeping it to myself. Since I have very little time to update my stories currently...here is a little one-shot to tide you all over. :) Please review and tell me what you think! I would thoroughly enjoy that...okay...here you go, lovelies.
A buzz floated throughout the New York sidewalks, a steady hum of life echoing from every side street, ever café, every shop. It was busy, to say the least, but as the curly red-head walked down the street, she felt all alone. Her winter boots sloshed through the half-melted snow, scattering water droplets onto her jeans with every step. Her hair was contained in a knitted hat, the red strands spilling out of the bottom and falling onto the black leather of her jacket. She didn't look up as the crowd jostled her around, cursing and cussing as they stumbled somewhat drunkenly to their destinations.
One time, Clary did peep up, to see who the hefty man who had just stomped on her toe was, but all she could see was a retreating figure of a man huddled in a winter jacket, a cell phone pressed firmly to his ear, chatting away animatedly. Though he was less than two feet in front of her at the time, she couldn't understand any of the words that flowed from his mouth, couldn't comprehend what he was saying. She jammed her small fists into her pockets and lowered her gaze once more, the salty liquid pooling in her lids threatening to spill over.
Her body was ravaged by devastation, her mind battered from the onslaught of memories that had devoured her every waking moment of the past months. Everything about him was branded on the backs of her eyelids, leaving her not one moment of peace from the anger and sadness she felt inside. The pain of his face had become so bad that she rarely even allowed herself to blink, to do that small, involuntary muscle twitch that happened so absentmindedly. She felt as if she was pulled into two, and her better half was stolen from her grasp, whisked away and never to be heard from again.
She kicked a littered cup off the sidewalk, hearing it clink and clatter as it bounced to a stop against a nearby bench. The sky was a dreary shade of gray, ironically matching the haziness of Clary's mind, the bleariness of her eyes. It was poetic; really, the connection nature seemed to have with her. It seemed to be attuned to her moods, knowing just what she needed, when she needed it. But she wished that maybe just a shred of sunlight could filter between the opaque quilt of gray and heat her toes, warm her lonely soul.
In the cramped, packed New York, she felt completely and utterly alone. Abandoned by the very person who'd promised he'd always protect her, always love her. She was frustrated as she wiped a lone tear from the corner of her eye, watching the high-heeled boots of the woman in front of her.
She set her jaw, forcing herself to remember that it hadn't been his choice to leave, that he'd fought for her, for them. But in the end, the Shadowhunting community won out, and Clary was left by herself, in her tiny one bedroom flat. She watched as the Lightwoods left to move to Idris, as Simon followed Isabelle like a lost puppy, not one glance backward as his best friend's heart was shattering, as she was breaking into pieces, with no one left to put her back together. She watched Luke and Jocelyn go to Luke's new job as the werewolf representative of the Clave.
Sure, they'd asked their eighteen-year-old daughter to come with, but Clary could see it in her mother's eyes that this was something she had wanted to do alone. So, like all obedient children, she respectfully declined, claiming she wanted to attend the art school in New York.
Clary ducked one of the Subway tunnels, determined to get out of the cold for at least a minute. Her nose was red, contrasting deeply with the paleness of her skin. He pressed her palms to her face, breathing hot air against her chilled fingers. She was trying not to let the last name leap into her mind, trying to forget what day the calendar had told her it was today. She didn't think she could handle it again, reliving his parting words, watching him step into the cab, bag in hand.
He didn't even cry. He was so closed off as he came to say goodbye. As he hugged her stiffly, awkwardly as if she was just an acquaintance. Had he not remembered all their moments they'd shared? The training sessions and the other, less formal, sessions that followed afterward? She veered right, not completely sure of where she was trying to go.
Her face was set into a frown, and she slapped down the curious thought of where he was now. He'd left what seemed like an hour ago, but in reality was last year. She wondered how he had planned to get to Idris. She forced the lump in her throat back down, as she silently cursed the Clave. They'd taken everything from her. They'd found use in everyone else, found them important, but to them, she was nobody, no one.
Her face heated in anger and her nails dug into the palms of her hands as she clenched them into fists. She knew Jace hadn't told them about her abilities to protect her, but was her being alone really being protected? Valentine was gone, sure, but what about Jonathon? What about the boy that had killed Max, attempted to kill her, and nearly succeeded in killing Jace? He was lost, fallen off the globe, yet nobody thought it was necessary to protect her. Nobody cared any longer apparently.
She crossed her arms over her chest, releasing a long, slow breath. That wasn't true, and she had to remind herself of that, her throat clenching in sadness, making her breathing ragged. Jocelyn and Luke cared. They just couldn't pass up the opportunity of changing the logistics of the bond between Shadowhunters and Downworlders. Clary hadn't really expressed her want to go with them, hadn't clung to her mother's legs, kicking and screaming for them not to leave her alone.
She couldn't blame them because they didn't know what this had done to her. The daily calls still came even after half a year, so Clary knew they were still attempting to love her from halfway across the globe, in a country that didn't even exist on maps. She also couldn't focus her anger on the Lightwoods. They were grieving, the loss of their youngest son causing undoable damage on all of their hearts. She couldn't hold a grudge against them for giving up the Institute, for finally being fed up with walking past the closed door of Max's bedroom every morning on their way to the kitchen. She understood. She understood all too well what loss could do to a person.
She shuddered, watching the angelic face of the one she did blame flash before her. She studied her memory of his face for a moment, drinking him in. She closed her eyes, enhancing the image. She eyed his chiseled features, missing the feeling of her nose running along the crease of his, missing his jaw brushing against the tops of her curls. She gazed into the molten orbs of gold, the ones that had softened for her the moment they met, the ones that she'd thought belonged to her and only her. She dropped her gaze to his mouth, feeling the hurt blossom in her chest as she remembered the empty look in those eyes this day, exactly a year ago, when he'd told her he had to leave.
She sunk down on a bench in the subway station and leaned her head back against the cement blocks of the wall, people rushing past her in the dingy, pale light of the underground tunnels. She closed her eyes, melting into the past for a moment, as a wave of nausea curled through her stomach. She pitched forward and put her face in her hands, watching the memory unfold before her.
He had pulled up in a sleek, black limo, a car that Clary had never seen before. The morning sunshine mingled with his golden locks, which were being lifted and tousled in the nippy wind. She'd seen him pull up and threw open her door in greeting. Clary smiled as the chill bit her cheeks. Jace hadn't smiled back, his eyes focused far beyond her. She waved him over, and he didn't come. She called to him, and he didn't answer. He was distant, and what seemed to Clary, slightly put off by the sight of her.
She didn't have on a jacket, just a white t-shirt and some jeans, but she hopped unsteadily on one foot as she tugged her winter boots on, trenching through the remnants of winter. She tripped and fell into the wetness, having caught her foot on an uneven slice of pavement on her quest to reach Jace, though by the look on his face he'd seemed unattainable.
She yelped as her hands flew out blindly to break her fall. She'd exhaled in a shudder as the impact never came, strong arms catching her before she'd face planted into the hard surface of the sidewalk. Clary looked up, and her green eyes momentarily met the gold in Jace's irises. For a split second, his face had melted, the hard mask it had been set in slipping away to reveal a shadow of his signature smirk. It was gone in an instant as he set Clary back on her feet, removing his arms from around her as if she had a disease contractible through touch. The cold fully enveloped her then, and her lips quivered, turning slightly purple.
She'd allowed her eyes to rake over his appearance. His golden hair was more disheveled than usual, as if he hadn't bothered to brush it that day. His normally clear, golden eyes were clouded, rimmed in red as if he hadn't been sleeping. He was dressed mysteriously in a pair of dark-washed jeans, a black v-neck that showed of the perfect, gold skin of his chest, and a leather jacket. She saw a pair of Aviators dangling from his fingertips, and her lips parted, a question on her tongue.
She moved to speak, but a shiver broke her away from the words. She feverishly rubbed her hands up and down over her arms, looking to the left and right to see if anyone was around. Miraculously, only a frazzled dog walker occupied the streets, leaving Jace and Clary mostly alone. Clary caught his gaze and smiled, startled by the nervous way his lips were twitching.
Her fears grew further as he broke their connection, gazing at the dog walker and scratching his neck, a tick of his that always gave him away, no matter how straight-faced he appeared. He was nervous. "Spit it out, Jace," Clary said anxiously, taking a step toward him and reaching her quivering arm out. She dropped it dejectedly to her side when Jace jerked back away from her, a look of disgust in his eyes. She ground her feet into the snow and clamped her teeth together, forcing the salty liquid back into her eyes.
"I can't be with you anymore." He said it so monotonously, so unemotionally, that Clary believed he hadn't even felt a bit of remorse as he spoke to her. He didn't even look at her, didn't watch as her heart, her mind, her very being shattered, dropping in misplaced chunks in the melted snow.
They've been through so much together, and he ended it with six words. Clary's knees buckled as she collapsed into the snow, the cold awakening every cell in her body. Her body screamed at her to get up, to warm herself, but her mind wouldn't let her. She lay in the slush, convulsing with shivers as Jace loomed over her, not concerned for her wellbeing, not caring anymore. She closed her eyes as he leaned down, draping his jacket over her torso. She opened them just as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. And that's how he left her, with his jacket and his kiss, writhing in the snow.
Clary opened her eyes with a start, realizing that she was back in the subway station, surrounded by millions of people. She burrowed into Jace's coat, heat spreading through her forehead where he'd kissed, left her alone without even uttering the final farewell. She impatiently flicked the tears away from her cheeks, watching a subway screech by, causing hearing loss to everyone in the station.
Clary pulled her hat down farther over her ears and unzipped the jacket, warming her hands in the inside lining of the coat. At least he'd cared enough to leave her a piece of him, a piece she wore nearly every day for the past year. Her fingers probed the fabric, her mind wandering to happier days.
She remembered their long walks through the park, their shared shakes at Taki's, their training sessions. She remembered how she'd introduced him to the technology of the human world, how he'd protected her from everything that threatened to harm him. She thought about how he'd died protecting her, how she gave up every possibility in the world to have her Jace back. And now he was gone again.
Her fingertip clipped something, and she quickly removed her hand, seeing red blood swelling to the surface. She popped it into her mouth, feeling with the other hand for the offending object. Her fingers slipped into a small hole, cut into the lining of the coat. She untangled a cool, hard object with sharp, jagged edges.
She removed a piece of glass and peered at it, seeing a speck of her red blood on the surface. She eyed the piece and saw inside of it, not a sliver of her own reflection, but a piece of paradise. It was a grassy expanse with the vegetation swaying slightly in a warm breeze. Above it was a blue sky, endlessly clear with a golden sun beaming down on a lone willow.
It was the piece of the portal from Renwick's, the one Valentine had broken as he attempted to keep Jace forever. Clary dug deeper into the handmade pocket, her fingers grasping at a thin slip of paper. It was folded into fours, and on it, was her name, written in perfect, looping cursive, from the very hand of the man who she had believed had abandoned her.
She stared at it, momentarily contemplating throwing the note to the breeze. But, if Jace had taken the time to write it, it had to have meant something. She carefully gripped the corners, as if it might fall to ashes if handled to roughly. She unfolded it, her eyes drinking in the small message hidden in its folds.
Meet me here if you still love me. I'll wait every day until forever. He hadn't signed it, but Clary knew it was from him. It was written in pen, and the ink was smudged, in a few spots. He'd been crying as he wrote this, crying over her.
The thought of Jace crying was just, unfathomable, something that would only happen if the apocalypse had begun. She discreetly checked around, humorous relief washing over her as she confirmed there were no half-dead zombies chasing after her. She pulled her stele from her pocket and traced the glamour rune against her skin. To the casual passerby, it would look as if she had disappeared around the corner, but in all reality, she was creating a portal against the wall, watching the glowing light flow from the tip of her stele to the wall, opening a doorway to the most mystical place she'd ever seen.
She took a deep breath, and stepped through, warmth enveloping her instantly. She removed her hat and felt the summer breeze ruffle her curls. She stopped and turned a complete circle, spotting Jace, resting silently beneath the willow, head leaned back against the trunk. She took off her boots, traversing the waves of golden grasses in utter silence.
He was dressed in a tight, white t-shirt and dark jeans. His feet were bare and dirty, his golden hair perfectly disheveled. His mouth was slack, his even breathing reaching her ears. She stopped five feet before him, and cleared her throat loudly, watching him stir awake, his eyes flying wildly opening and his fingers twitching toward the seraph blade strapped to his belt.
"C-Clary?" he asked, pressing his palms to his red eyes. Clary waited for him to take them away from his face before nodding. The words she wanted to shout at him couldn't make it by the lump in her throat. "I didn't think you'd come." Clary just shrugged as Jace stumbled to his feet. He leaned against the willow tree. "You're mad," he stated matter-of-factly, his eyes gently probing her, the look of love and care back in his features.
"You left," was her simple reply. She was satisfied by Jace's sharp intake of breath. Her throat closed again as he crossed the boundary between them, reaching out to trail his fingers down her face. Clary turned away, his hand connecting with one of her curls rather than her skin.
"I had to protect you." Clary turned back toward him, her face set in anger.
"Don't feed me that crap! You leaving me is not protecting me! You're starting to sound like that vampire from Twilight!"
"I didn't read Twilight." His lower lip jutted out, his eyes glistening just a little.
"Okay, well here's the summary. That decision sucked!" Clary crossed her arms over her chest, the piece of glass digging into her palm.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice strangled. Clary watched his eyes travel to her palm. "You're bleeding," he said, prying the piece of portal from her grasp. She complained and yanked her hand away when he tried to trace the iratze against the surface of the wound.
"I don't need your help anymore, Jace," she grumbled, scrawling the rune herself. Jace sighed, replacing his stele in the pocket of his jeans. She watched the blood stop, and the wound heal, the process somewhat soothing to her, something that was normal. She inhaled deeply, smelling sunshine, the scent she'd always associated with Jace. "Why didn't you come back?" She'd meant for the question to sound angry, for every piece of bitterness that had built up in her over the past year to leak into her words, but her voice cracked, showing the fragile, hurt girl beneath the angered façade.
Jace sighed and reached out his hand, making sure to keep it a foot away from Clary's hand, waiting for her to initiate contact. Clary rolled her eyes and took it, sparks exploding between their palms. Clary set her shoulders to stop the shiver running up her spine.
Jace sat them down beneath the willow, looking out at the vast expanse of prairie that was Jace's heavenly escape when he was younger. His face was turned into a frown, his voice slow and sad as he spoke.
"I," he started, pausing as his eyebrows furrowed, trying to accompany words with his thoughts. Clary sat, waiting patiently as he contemplated what he wanted to say. "I had become a last resort to saving the whole Shadowhunter community." Clary felt a shudder run up his arm and realized they were still holding hands. She slipped hers out of his and watched him stare at the spot where they'd been touching. She swore she saw a drop of water fall off his nose.
"I had been trained all summer to become the perfect spy and the perfect warrior. From there, Luke set up series of meetings with the suspected culprits." Clary furrowed her eyebrows, and Jace rushed to explain more. "Someone in the Clave had been ordering hits on high profile Shadowhunters and Downworlders, and I needed to get the job so I could work closely with this man and bust him, to stop him from creating an evil dictatorship much like the one Valentine was planning to run. According to Luke's plan, one would hire me as the mercenary, and then through a series of connections, I would find the leader of the operation."
"Why didn't you just tell me? Luke would have wanted me to know!" She was shouting, as tears rolled over her eyelashes, clinging to the soft skin of her face and leaving salty trails behind.
Jace tenderly wiped her tears as she squeezed her eyes shut. The pressure of his hands on her face didn't retreat as he spoke, true remorse filling his words. "It wasn't Luke that had a problem with it. It was my employer. He said as a test of true loyalty, I had to leave you in the dust, forget about you, and about my past so that I could move onto my future with him." Clary slowly opened her eyes, meeting his golden irises.
"You…you didn't forget about me, did you?" Jace smiled slightly, though her question was serious.
"No, no, of course not." She pulled her face out of his hands and pressed the note into his palm.
"How did you get that in my coat?" She blinked away the second wave of tears as Jace kissed the tip of her nose.
"It's been there since the day I left." Her eyes widened. "I couldn't stand being away from you, and my employer was monitoring me closely, ready to harm you if I so much as muttered your name. I found that he couldn't follow me to this place, for whatever reason. Maybe it's blessed by the angels, and all the goodness rejects his presence." Clary smiled at the thought of an invisible barrier throwing someone out. "I've just been waiting for a year for you to find it."
Clary sighed, and plucked some grass from the ground. "I've gone around for a year, trying to understand what I had done to make you reject me, to make you forget that you love me." Jace reached over and took the redhead in his arms, marveling at how perfectly she still fit against him.
"I loved you yesterday," he said, his lips against her ear, his breath fanning over her face. He placed a kiss just below her ear, and then one against her cheek. His voice was husky as he continued, "I love you still. I'll love you always, and always will." Clary turned her head away from where it was cradled in his chest and met his eyes. A strangled sob escaping her throat as their lips met, in a flash of teeth clanking and blinding fireworks. She didn't realize she'd been crying again until Jace's lips tasted of salt. She opened her eyes as a water droplet splattered against her nose. She looked up and the clear sky had suddenly clouded over, breaking open and releasing all Clary's anguish into the lips of her lover.
She laughed once and wrapped her legs around Jace's waist as he lifted her up, standing and carrying her out into the cool precipitation. He pressed his lips more firmly to hers, and Clary got lost inside him, spiraling downward losing all the threads of anger she'd once wanted to tie around his neck and replacing them with the indestructible chains of love.
Yeah...I based this whole story off that one quote..."I loved you yesterday. I love you still. I'll love you always, and always will"...AWEEEEEE! Leave it to me to write a nearly 4,000 word story to share a single quote. Whatevs...that just shows how awesome I have...K REVIEW AND MAKE ME AMAZINGLY HAPPY! Treats and Jace kisses for the reviewers! :) k thanks
~All My Love
BallinBlonde21
