Self-Adoration
Warning: This story touches on the topic of teenage eating disorders.
A/N: Just some Clace fluff and self-love all mixed together bc couldn't we all use some of both?
Sometimes, even the mention of his name made my heart speed up. That was a walk in the park compared to being around him. It was a serious problem considering the amount of interest the golden angel had taken in me.
"Guess what happened to Jace at our last concert?" Jonathan cackled with Isabelle, his girlfriend. She was gorgeous yet unrelated by blood with Jace. It was ironic that they both were gorgeous and lived under the same roof. It was how Jonathan met Isabelle.
My interest piqued, I leaned my head further into the band room where he was currently trying his hardest to impress the girl. "Jace is such a boring topic, Jon."
No. No, he was not. I wanted to kick her! Anything concerning Jace seemed like it would make a major difference.
"A girl jumped him, Iz!" Jonathan insisted. "She hopped up on stage and tore off her shirt, which was pretty awkward considering this was in a coffee shop with about forty people at best."
My tongue felt like I had just eaten sand.
"Classic Jace," Izzy sighed. "Can we get back to your guitar now?"
Yes. I didn't want to hear more. My tiny, hopeful heart couldn't take the rest of the run down about how Jace wooed yet another girl into his bed. I turned away, back to the kitchen table and trying to swallow the lump in my throat.
Then, Jon said, "No, babe, that's what's so shocking. He shoved her and her huge boobs off of him. Jace looked disgusted, but she was smoking hot!"
"You're not improving your chances at getting laid tonight," Isabelle huffed.
Cue gag moment.
"You know you're hotter," Jonathan laughed. "I just don't get him anymore, that's all. A month ago, he never would have turned down a girl like that."
I choked on my apple, a familiar habit for me. One month ago, I came home from the hospital. One month ago, I met Jace for the first time since hearing about him in all of Jonathan's letters about their newly formed band.
Jonathan clearly heard my apple's disagreement with me because he came bounding in the kitchen quickly, not at all casual or secretive about it. "Clary – oh."
I smiled weakly at him and set my apple down. "I'm fine, Jon. I just…got distracted."
His look of concern didn't dissipate, though it had dropped considerably from when he first came into the kitchen. "What have you eaten today?" He asked, looking over my body as if it could tell him the answer. It used to be able to, but not anymore.
I crossed my arms over my chest and raised an eyebrow. "You promised you'd stop hounding me when I reached one hundred five pounds. Well, I'm one hundred ten pounds as of yesterday."
Isabelle, whom I hadn't seen enter, smiled widely. "You look so much healthier, Clary."
But not as beautiful as you.
I couldn't say that. Jonathan would get, as always, suspicious. Instead, I bowed my head with a soft smile. He scoffed. "You could use a bit more."
He didn't realize that he truly wasn't helping. I bit my lip and shrugged. Isabelle hit him on the shoulder. "With her petite body, I think she looks hot either way. All she needs is a real dinner. Want to join my family and I?"
My head shot up. Yes. Yes. Yes. Hell yes I wanted to. At the same time, I knew I couldn't. Being around Jace during lunch for the past week had sent my heart into overdrive. Considering my previous condition, it really didn't need the extra stain. Also, I would feel way to out of place. "No, really, I'm-,"
"Iz, we're trying to get her to stop barfing," Jonathan hissed. I let out a laugh. Sometimes, his bulimic jokes hit me hard. Other times, they helped me relax in the environment enough that it was funny.
Isabelle glowered. "She already has, asshole. And my mother is cooking!"
Jonathan's eyes perked. "Then we'd love to."
"Jon!" I whimpered. He slung an arm around me and rolled his eyes.
"You're going!"
. . .
I was in his house - Jace Wayland's house.
It was very big. My eyes had trouble peering to the top of the old church. I remembered when Jonathan had first visited. He wrote to me about how he felt like some peasant asking for the hand of the princess. I hadn't really understood his comparison, but now I did. This place had an old Victorian style going on. It definitely could have belonged in the Renaissance era with some minor tweaks.
"This house is beautiful," I gushed to Maryse the moment she welcomed me into their home.
"Thank you…Clary, is it?" Maryse asked. I nodded and continued craning my neck to look at the ceiling of the large library we passed through. She wasn't even giving us a tour. We were on our way to the dining room. "I hope you're hungry. Max and Alec aren't home to help diminish all of the food, and I have to run… Isabelle! Don't let Clary get lost!"
As soon we she opened the door for us to the dining room, she was turning back around the same way we came. I looked at the table and got nervous suddenly. There was a lot of food on the table. I thanked my lucky stars she wasn't here to push more food down my throat. I got enough of that from Jonathan.
"Jace, get in here! We have a guest!" Isabelle shouted while holding open a door leading down the hall. I blushed and looked at my hands nervously. In my head, I counted off a steady rhythm for my heart to try to pump around.
Jace groaned as he walked in the dinning room, not noticing me at first. "Can't you entertain him on your own? I have to get an outfit for – oh. Hey, Red." Jace's face went from annoyed to smiling the moment his eyes landed on me.
Normally, I would make up some excuse as to why that happened that didn't sound like he was into me, but it happened so often it hurt to lie that much. It really felt like he was into me.
"Forget me, why don't you?" Jon snorted. He was already piling food on his plate. Jace came and set in the chair beside me. His scent washed over me and I had the urge to roll my eyes in the back of my head and savor the moment forever. He smelled masculine with a hint of sunshine – Jace. "Since when did he call you Red?"
Jonathan sounded jealous. I blushed and stood, gathering small amounts of chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, a roll, and broccoli on my plate. "We have lunch together."
On the rare occasions that they practiced at our house, Jace met me the very next day after I came home from the hospital. Jonathan had been in mid rant with my mother about how he needed to get his lunch switched to mine. Jace volunteered without hesitation. I think that was the only meal I was never told to eat more. It was relieving.
"Oh. Right," Jon scratched the back of his head. Isabelle leaned over and whispered something in my brother's ear. Just from the devilish smile he grew, I knew it was dirty. I grimaced and turned to Jace.
"They are disgusting," I whispered. He snorted.
"You never have had a relationship before, huh?" Jace's golden eyes lifted with amusement. "Alec and Magnus are worse. Just wait until they get here."
I shook my head and stole a line from my brother. "We're trying to keep the food down, remember?"
Jace scoffed and looked to Jonathan for a brief second before turning back to me again. "You might think that one is funny now, but that's the only one I've allowed him to use. Jon uses it every chance he's got."
"Allowed?"
Jace nodded. "He can be a real dick about serious things, sometimes. He doesn't mean it, though. He's just nervous."
"You know my brother more than I thought you did," I smiled widely. Jace cracked a grin and shrugged while a green bean hung out of his mouth. I giggled, remembering that I probably should eat as well.
Over the past couple of months, my taste had almost completely returned. For instance, I knew this food was good because it didn't taste similar to cardboard, as did most things. After everyone was full, we sat around the table and talked for a while. "Clary, are you cool if I steal Jonathan away for a while?" Isabelle asked.
"I'll gladly keep her company," Jace said. My heart rate spiked at the low growl in those words. Jonathan looked suspiciously from me to Jace, but Iz had already begun to tug him towards their room.
His steady gaze really wasn't helping with the heat I was beginning to feel. I knew this as a warning sign. The smell of the food had already turned from appetizing to appalling. How could I suggest we move elsewhere?
"Is everything okay, Red? You look trapped," Jace frowned. "It's actually an adorable look on you."
I glowered at his words. "I'm not adorable." Jace made an obvious gesture of looking me up and down.
"No. You aren't." He agreed vehemently. A wave of heat washed over me, but this was a good heat for once. My cheeks were on fire.
"You, uh, don't have to babysit me more," I said, still looking at my hands. "I can occupy myself."
Jace kicked my foot with his. "It's not babysitting. I'm glad they gave me a good excuse to hang out with you," he promised. I looked up at him with doubt. His eyes spoke such honesty. For once, I believed it. He did want to be around me. I didn't know why, but he wanted to be around me.
"Then can we go somewhere else?" I halfway begged. The sight of my half eaten plate of food was enough to turn my stomach. I couldn't look at it longer than a second without feeling minor waves of shame. "The sight and smell of food is making me want to…"
Jace nodded. "I have an idea. Have you ever gone to the mall here?"
. . .
The mall, I quickly found out, was practically deserted during the weekdays. Even the most popular stores only have five or so people in them.
"You know, I have gone to a mall before," I said. "What's so special about this one?"
Jace shrugged. "Me." I let out a loud laugh. He did, as well, and I couldn't help but to try to press his laughter into my memory. He had a deep, throaty laugh - one that made me sigh in relief every time I heard it because it meant that he was genuinely having a good time.
He continued. "Look, Clary, I know bulimia isn't really about your body. It's about your worth, and shit." He had a way with words. "But I do know that a large part of that, especially for teenage girls, is about your body. I just want to show you how to see what everyone else sees when we look at you."
I stopped walking. Jace did as well. I looked up at him with crossed arms. Talking about my eating disorder wasn't a common thing aside from a few stray comments here and there, but that was still only with a select few people. It was one thing to explain it to somebody, but it was another when he understood what I meant. "How do you know this, Jace?" His words were very true. They were so familiar. My therapists as my hospital told me things along those exact lines. We worked tirelessly about those subjects. Apparently, I felt like I was a nuisance to people, a pest to their daily activities. I felt like I wasn't somebody worth spending time with. The body-image problem was something I had always had, which wasn't hard to consider when I grew up with my gorgeous mother. Bulimia was like adding fire to the flames.
It was different now. Jonathan had explained in detail in his letters how much he regretted pushing me away. Before my disorder became noticeable, and long before then, he was the only person at home most of the time because my single mother worked constantly. As he grew up into the life of girls and music, he had no time for me like he did when we were little. I relied solely on my only friend, Simon, for a long time. My breaking point was when Simon professed his undying love for me and deserted me for three months after I explained I loved him like a brother. After that, everything crashed for a long time.
When I passed out, my mother took me to the hospital where they diagnosed me with an extremely dangerous case of nervosa bulimia that had been going on for at least six months.
Jace said, "My real mother made contact with me a couple of years ago." I frowned. Nobody ever mentioned this. "She had anorexia nervosa. I helped with it for about two months, visiting her hospital a couple times a week, but…"
My eyes grew wide. She didn't make it through. "I'm so sorry, Jace," I grabbed his hand out of instinct and squeezed it. Jace gave me a grim smile.
"It's okay," he promised. "I just know some things she said helped. So you're coming with me." I didn't find anything wrong with his statement until we reached Victoria Secret. Instantly, I stopped walking. Jace spun around. "Don't you trust me, Clary?" He picked up my hand again. My breathing turned shallow. The thing was that I did trust him. This store just never had good memories come to my mind. "Please."
It was that damn word. Without letting go of his hand, I stumbled along behind him. The only girl that bothered us was the one at the cash register. Aside from her, nobody else was around. At least I had that – privacy. "What am I trying on?" I squeaked. Jace sent me a mischievous grin and winked. Aside from energy shooting straight into the pit of stomach, I played it off very well.
"I need you to pick out something fun to try on. I'll do the same." Jace said, already walking towards the lingerie section. I followed suit with an impish smile on my lips.
"I can't wait to see you in this," I teased his words and tossed him pink lingerie with a light, white sheer robe attached to it as well.
Jace sent me a dirty look. "Just for that one, Red, you're trying this on." I paled.
When I got into the fitting room, it was just Jace and I. "So you want me to try on lingerie?" I scoffed, looking at him expectantly. "Aren't you trying to make me not cry?"
Jace rolled his eyes. "We're going to have a fashion show, sweetheart." Jace winked. My stomach dropped.
"There's no way in hell I'm stripping for you," I growled, shoving past him. Everyone said he was a player, but I didn't expect him to use me so smoothly. My throat burned, but his hand yanked on my wrist, stopping me cold.
"No, Clary, it's nothing like that," Jace was blushing. He was blushing. I had never seen such a grand feat. "Please trust me. You need this."
I hated to admit that I did need it. I'd love to look at my body and believe the words everyone said. I was desperate; I'd try anything. It was so draining to look in the mirror and feel the need to grab a knife and personally saw off any loose skin.
"What exactly do you plan on doing?" I huffed. Jace grinned.
"You have my word that none of this goes anywhere, but..." he produced a phone from his pocket. I narrowed my eyes. He was joking.
"Fuck no."
"Please."
"Jace."
"Clary!"
"No!"
"Here," he groaned and took my phone. Swift as a snake, he turned around and pulled out the waistband of his underwear hiding under his jeans. I gasped as the flash went off and he proudly turned back around, a dubious smile on his lips. "If anything gets out, now you insurance on me."
"Fine." I growled. I'd normally never do this, but the idea of Jace seeing me in something designed just to make me sexier was too tempted. I'd probably never get the chance again.
When I got inside a room, I grabbed the pink lingerie with a flowing robe and tugged it on, looking in the mirror. I sighed in dismay. There wasn't much to look at. My boobs were the size of a preteen's boobs that were just beginning to develop. My sides were as straight as a stick. I seriously looked like a boy. I turned to the side and felt the urge to vomit again. My thighs were huge. For somebody my height, I shouldn't have had such large thighs. Within a week, I watched them both inflate more and more. My hair was flaming red, and I would have dyed it by now if it didn't require such extremities to keep it up. The curls were as wild as a lion's main.
I was Strawberry Shortcake.
"Holy fuck," Jace sucked in a breath from behind me. I shrieked and jumped, turning around in surprise.
I didn't know what I was supposed to say. "What now, Jace, because I feel pretty shitty right now?" I couldn't keep my gaze fixed on Jace's.
I glared at the floor. He cleared his throat, and I looked up. Jace clicked a button and grabbed my hand, pulling me into the empty dressing room that resembled somebody's private dressing lounge. It was dark lit and quite sexual, with a nice little circular couch in the middle before a mirror. Music filled the air.
"This is my favorite song!" I gasped and felt the urge to jump to the slow, growing beat.
"Go ahead. Dance for me, Red," Jace grinned. There was a glint in his eyes. I blamed that. That very glint gave me the bit of confidence that I needed. He kicked back on the longue chair.
So I jumped up and danced my heart out.
'Throw Sum Mo,' by Rae Sremmurd was playing.
I slowly walked up against the mirror, hand hanging off one side as I bent down keeping my leg locked. When the rap came, I only barely struggled to keep up with the beat. My favorite part, however, was the chorus. I slowed it down and stood up. When I turned around, Jace was leaned over with his elbows resting on his knees.
The music was loud. I was in the zone. Just as the chorus came, I connected eyes with Jace. He challenged me. I didn't let him down. Throwing my hands up in the air, I dropped down and bounced twice. Turning back around, I grinned.
Jace changed the song.
"Formation" by Beyoncé played.
My eyes glazed over. Jace stood up, but I hardly noticed. Now I was enjoying this. Since this was slower, I swirled my robe with me. Jace was videotaping me, but it was like nobody was there.
I slayed.
My movements were hypnotic. I couldn't look away. For the first time ever, I was attracted to my body. Every little line on me seemed intriguing. My innocent, nonexistent curves made it all the more mouth watering. I popped out my hips, eyes locked on my large, firm butt. Everything about me was alluring.
A huge smile graced my face as I used that same move, dropping to my ankles and back up quickly. I checked myself out. Even my tiny breasts seemed like they were hiding a secret, something that would interest just about anyone. My eyes, despite being crinkled by my impressed smile, were swirling with mystery, and my hair only increased the effect.
I was panting by the time the song ended. When I turned around, Jace was right there. He was grinning like crazy, as well. I looked at him with wide eyes. "That was…"
"Sexy as fuck?" Jace wolf whistled. "Yeah, I'd say so, Red." There was something about the look in his eyes, like he was saying even more than he already had. "Here's something I've never said to a girl – get dressed and I'll drive you home." I hesitated. "Unless you'd like to ride home naked. I won't protest about that one."
My cheeks were on fire! Nobody had ever said such a thing to me before. I was even more surprised to find that I liked it. I quickly changed back into my clothes and hung up the lingerie. Jace insisted on buying it for me. Despite my assurance that I wouldn't ever get to use it, he bought it for me. We were walking back to his car eating dip 'n' dots before he said something.
"Now every time you feel shitting about your body, watch this video," Jace said, holding out the phone for me to send it to myself.
I smiled brightly up at him. After quickly typing in my phone number and pressing the send button, I giggled, "You didn't do this just to get my number, did you?"
Jace smirked impishly. "That's just a bonus, Red," he said.
"Seriously, Jace, thank you. I've never felt so...content." I blamed my good mood for the reason as to why I stumbled forward and wrapped my arms around him.
He didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around my waist. He was so strong as he gripped me. It was more than a thank you hug, I realized. When I was pulled directly against this chest, I felt something hard press into my stomach.
I gave him a boner. I gave him a boner. I gave Jace Wayland a fucking boner! I have never given any guy a boner before, to my knowledge.
A smile rose on my lips again. He liked my body. At the very least, my body was good enough to get a guy moving. At the most, maybe I truly was beautiful. I felt beautiful - I felt powerful in that moment. The music, the outfit, and my dance moves made me feel confidant.
"Oh! I'm sor-,"
Jace's lips suddenly crashed on mine. I gasped, falling back in surprise. All the blood rushed to my head as I felt his soft lips move against mine. His hands caught me before I fell too far, weaving tightly around my waist and pressing my stomach against his as he craned over my body.
I was in shock.
Kissing. We were kissing. He kissed me. He kissed my lips. Mine.
Still having the feeling like I was going to fall, I grabbed on to Jace's arms for dear life as I moved my lips against his. His tongue slid very slowly along my bottom lip bed for his teeth replaced it, nuzzling softly.
I gasped, fully opening my mouth against his, my voice lost into the kiss. Jace pulled away slowly, resting his forehead against mine. "Never apologize for turning me on," he chuckled softly, and I joined in. "I enjoy it way too much."
"Jon's going to flip," I muttered, lifting my eyes to Jace's. "But pushing his buttons is kind of my job."
Jace laughed, stepping back and righting myself, giving my lungs enough room to breathe. My head was spinning still. His hand clasped mine. "He likes it, you know."
"He does?" I asked. He nodded. Hm.
"There's an endless amount of little things you do that drive us all crazy for you, Clary. Especially me. You just haven't noticed them yet," Jace assured me. I had trouble believing him. I always did. But as he rubbed circles on the back of my palm, I thought maybe he was right.
Maybe I got under their skin so much that they became addicted to me. And maybe that's all love was - annoyance to the point where they can't live without it.
If anyone out there is struggling or had an eating disorder, I hope you know that it's not your body or looks that define you. Also, don't give a fuck about what other people think of you. Who cares? You're the only one who matters. Do you like who you are and what you do? If not, go help an old person walk across the street, feed the homeless, or some other nice shit like that because it makes you feel a lot better than you could ever imagine. You're a good person. Nobody said you had to be pretty. Looks are just one minor, unimportant aspect of you. Who you are, what you do, why you do it, and so many more things are what really matter. Tell you what, I'd rather spend my life around somebody with some jiggly blubber than with an asswipe who thinks if you aren't pretty you aren't shit. Love yourself. Love your body. Your body has gone through some tough shit. Don't put it through more. In the end, all that matters is that you find people who care about you, not your body.
A/N: To any of my followers out there (ha like 1 maybe?) sorry for being so inactive! I'm actually writing my own books at the moment and posting them on Wattpadd. I wish FacFiction had a section for my own work because I like this site better! Anyways...
This is just a quick little one-shot that came to mind. I'd love to know what you guys thought of this. Did anyone like it? No? Okay...