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Disclaimer; All characters and most of the events / plot belong to Cassandra Clare... I just like to play around with them a little ;)
Beep…Beep…Beep… Smash.
Damn, I wished that hadn't happened. Stupid alarm clock was always waking me at the most inopportune moments. I'd been rather enjoying myself in my dream – they always seemed to revolve around him. And it was always when things were getting a little heated that it chose to go off, I swear that one of these days I'm going to launch it across the room. But for now, I supposed I'd best get up and haul ass to school.
I slipped my legs from beneath the warmth of my plush duvet, feeling the rough wood of my bedroom floor under my bare feet as I headed over to the dresser to grab an outfit. Along the way, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror – frizzy red hair matted and stuck out at odd angles, deep green eyes framed by short, straight lashes, a dusting of freckles adorning rosy cheeks, glaringly obvious against the pallor of my skin – people were always telling me that I was my mothers' daughter, but I didn't see it. My mother, Jocelyn, was beautiful, statuesque. Long flowing waves of auburn hair, shimmering red in the sunlight, beautifully pale skin always dotted with the odd spot of paint. I suppose that's something I inherited at least – a proclivity for art. Painting, sketching, sculpting; we both loved it all.
I carried on my way, opening the doors to grab the first things I could get my hands on – a band tee and dark wash super skinny jeans – before making my way down the hall into the bathroom. I switched on the shower, and stepped under the wonderfully hot spray, rinsing away the remnants of my dream interrupted – yet again. I grabbed my wild apple shampoo, spreading a generous amount from my palm, running it through the tangled mess of my hair and picturing his beautiful face.
The dreams, they'd started a few months ago. I'd gone to bed as usual, plugged in my earphones, set my iPod to shuffle and let my eyes flutter closed. I'd dreamt of the most beautiful person I'd ever laid eyes upon. Golden hair framing a chiseled face, strong jaw, high cheek bones, lips that looked so kissable all I could think about was how it'd feel to have them sucking my bottom lip between them. Every feature was defined in perfect detail, his golden skin, seemingly lit from within. He was angelic. Godlike. And I wanted him more than I'd ever wanted anybody in my 17 years on earth. My body yearned for him to look at me, notice me. Something I'd never experienced before. When he finally turned his face towards me, long, fair lashes fluttering slowly open, I truly though that I must have died. He had the most amazing golden eyes – I was entranced, watching as they seemed to dance with mischief, a slow, sexy smirk creeping up on his face. He was stunning. But just as he'd reached out a long fingered hand towards me, the damn alarm clock had screeched to life. Just as it had every night since, but last night's had been the worst – or the best depending how you wanted to look at it. I could still feel the brush of his fingertips as he trailed them down my arms, smell the sweetness of his breath as it fanned across my face, his lips so tantalizingly close to mine. And bam! Back to reality with a bang once more.
I feared I was becoming slightly obsessed with my golden dream guy. He was the only thing I wanted to draw nowadays, my sketchbook was full of half-finished sketches of him. I just couldn't seem to truly capture him on paper despite how fully he was burned into my memory.
I quickly finished up in the shower, towel drying my hair and throwing on my clothes before brushing my teeth and slipping a couple of diamante skull studs into my ears. I snagged my backpack from my room, already filled with my school essentials, grabbed a slice of toast and hollered a quick goodbye to Jocelyn on my way out. Hurrying to the corner to meet my one; and probably only, real friend; Simon. We'd known each other since we were in pre-school together. He was the geeky, bespectacled guy who sat quietly in class, forever taking notes and loaning them to me when I'd whiled away the hour doodling rather than working. He was my best friend, always looking out for me.
"Hey Clary"
"Hey Simon, how's it going?"
We made our way to school, chattering between ourselves. The other kids thought we were strange, neither of us being particularly popular. And it was rare to see one without the other during school hours – except for gym of course. The day passed slowly, excruciatingly slowly. Then lunch arrived, and I waited out under the old oak tree on the school field for Simon to meet me. I dropped my backpack from my shoulder and slumped against the trunk, dragging my sketch book out, taking a sharpened pencil and letting my mind wander as I drew, I'd gotten so engrossed in my work that I hadn't even noticed Simon approach until he dropped his bag down next to me.
"Crap! Simon, you scared the life out of me!"
"You looked like you were in a little world of your own there Clary" He smiled crookedly over at me, adjusting his glasses on his face as he took a bite of a sandwich. "What'cha drawing there?" he asked with his mouth full, chewing over the words.
"Simon that's gross" I held my sketchpad close to my chest, not really wanting him to see that I'd been drawing a pair of striking golden eyes.
"You know you love me really Clary" He said, still chewing – this time on an apple he'd produced from his bag.
Just as he said that, I overheard a group of girls walking past; "Have you seen him?" "My God he's so hot" "the things I'd do to that boy" "Did anyone see the others yet? He's got an older brother and a sister apparently" "Yeah, but it's so strange, he doesn't look anything like them, not that his brother's not hot too of course , I certainly wouldn't kick him out of bed for making crumbs" There were near deafening peals of laughter after that particular statement as they wandered off across the courtyard. We must have some new students.
"Hey, Simon, have you heard anything about any new students that have started today?"
"Oh yeah, I think Eric may have mentioned a new girl and her brothers, he was waxing lyrical about her" air quote "hot-bod. You know Eric; he'll have written and dedicated a new song to her by the end of the day." Simon was part of a garage band; it consisted of him and a few of his friends; Jordan and Eric, but they were pretty awful, and to be honest I didn't have the heart to tell him.
"Oh right, so you haven't seen them yet?"
"No not yet. Why? It's not like you to take such an interest in other people"
Saved by the bell.
"Better get a move on, we don't want to be late for class"
I shoved my sketchpad back in my bag, not even closing the cover then stopped by my locker to pick up my Biology text book, throwing that into my backpack too. I weaved through the mass of students in the hall, being pushed and shoved, having to fight my way through the throngs of people to get to class on time. I shuffled my way to my seat in the back corner, hooking my legs around the stool as I tucked myself in, at 5 foot 1, I didn't even reach the floor when I was sat on these. I hauled my bag up on top of the desk as the teacher walked in, followed by a head of thick, blond curls.
