[an]: written for the Music To Words contest on Caesar's Palace. Song is Ribs by Lorde; lyrics copyrighted to her & whoever else wrote/owned/whatever'd this song.
[the drink you spilt all over me]
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He sighed, wondering why the hell he was at the party. For God's sake, he was a nerd! He wore thickly framed glasses over his dark brown eyes and he wore the signature nerdy outfit: white button downs, cargo pants, loafers. The only thing about him that was nerdy in the least way possible was his hair. Blonde, thick, long. He was constantly pushing it out of his face and out of his eyes with his hands. His bony, white hands that were mostly put to use when he wrote with pencils.
He looked down at the cup in his hand. Signature red, of course. Because you can't just have a party without red cups filled with God knows what. He hesitantly took a sip; beer. Typical. Was anyone ever original around this town? 'Course not. After all, this is a party on a school night (Wednesday, to be exact), the parents weren't there (as usual), and alcohol and drugs were present when the majority of the party goers were not twenty one or older (nothing new). So, to answer his question, no, no one around this town is original.
Why he was at the party, he had no idea. The last time he checked, there was actually homework he could be doing. But, nope. He's at the raunchiest party being thrown in town. The boy looked in disgust at two people basically right next to him, pushed up against the wall and making out like this was their last time ever seeing each other. He rolled his eyes; does anyone in this town have class?
Little did he know, he would be involved in his own romantic tangle in just a couple minutes. As Fate would need it, the right girl just needed to stumble on her slightly tall heels and onto Jace Herondale, and then the rest would happen accordingly.
There she was, and here we go.
He'd just looked away from the sexually active couple and to his horrendous drink when there was a squeaky 'Oof!' and then a whole bunch of red. His back smacked against the wall behind him, and he was pretty sure he dropped his drink. No problem; there was enough drink on the front of his shirt to where if he were to wring it out, there would be a cupful of beer. But, to deal with the problem at hand, he took a couple seconds to wipe the vibrant red hair from his glasses, and stand straight the girl who was causing a mess.
"Woops!" the girl said, her voice coming out loud and squeaky. Frankly, she sounded like a ditz. And he hated ditzy people. "Guess I ha' too much ta drank!"
He sighed loudly, his eyes falling back to look at the ceiling. Of all the people in the world. he just had to deal with a drunk-off-her-ass girl? He just couldn't run into someone like Simon Lewis, the guy who'd had it out for him since third grade, or Sebastian Morgensten, the most popular guy in school? Either of those two boys were better then this drunk idiot.
He looked around the house, trying to find a staircase. Wherever there was a staircase, that meant he could go up. Up to bedrooms, up to vacant rooms, up to any place better then this room, where the music was so loud he could practically feel his insides bumping along to the beat. He successfully found one, just across the room from him. He looked at the girl who was hobbling around on her heels, giggling at whatever her alcohol-possessed brain was concocting.
"Let's get you upstairs," he mumbled, steadying the girl with his hands. She suddenly jumped as if she hadn't known he was standing there. She probably didn't, she was that drunk.
"Wha' are ya doin'?" she slurred, her electric green eyes looking at him. Her head lulled to the side, and she stumbled to the right. He had to grab both her arms to steady her. How much had she had to drink?
"Taking you upstairs," he answered, clearly. Obviously this girl wasn't going to make it on her own, so he picked her up bridal-style and carried her through the massive group of party people. No one paid him a lick of attention, which was perfect; he wasn't up for giving an explanation as to why he was carrying this girl.
"I don't wanna!" she snapped, her head bopping around. She tried to hit his arm, but it proved futile as she could barely lift it at all.
The little redhead was quiet as the boy carried her upstairs. Although he hated her ditzy attitude and how drunk she was, he was gentle with her all the way. He found a vacant room on his first try (thank God; he really didn't want to see an exhibit on how babies were made), and gently lay her on he bed. He tucked the girl under the covers, her hair fanning out behind her. He had to admit; it did look pretty. Especially on her.
He'd turned to leave the room when she spoke again. "No, stay with me."
It was the first statement she'd made that wasn't slurred together. He hesitated, then shut the door. He walked back to the bed, slipping his shoes off (a pair of black Vans- the only non-nerdy shoes he owned) and sitting on the bed. There was no better offer for him downstairs, so why not aid to the drunk girl upstairs?
"Wha's your name?" she mumbled, so quiet he almost didn't catch it.
"Jace," he answered softly, his pale white hand finding it's way to a curly red tendril. He started twirling it around his finger, loving the way it looped effortlessly around his limb. It was a nice contrast; bright red on pale white.
"Tha's a nice name," the redhead said, her green orbs closing. "I'm Clary, but you can call me Clary."
Jace laughed awkwardly. He didn't know if this was the alcohol talking or if she just said that to be funny. He continued to twirl her hair around his finger; it entranced him, and he'd almost missed her next statement.
"You can lay with me if ya want. I don't mind."
Jace hesitated again. He'd never laid with a girl before, and he wasn't sure he wanted his first time to be with a drunk girl who was at risk of throwing up when she became sober. But once again, he decided that there was no better offer anywhere else. Guess that homework could wait.
He stood up, letting the curly hair fall back to its place. He padded to the other side of the bed, slipping under the covers in his jeans and hoodie (once again, one of the least nerdiest things he owned!). He slipped his glasses off, and his vision blurred slightly. But when he looked to this left, he still saw the bright red hair and her pale white skin. Jace lay on his side, his finger wrapping inside of her curly hair. It entranced him.
They both lay still, no motion present except for his finger in her hair. Her breathing evened, and he figured she was asleep. Jace was about to get up and go home, but she suddenly rolled onto her side and opened her eyes. He was startled by how green they were; it was like looking at flashing green gemstones. They were beautiful.
"Don't leave me," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Stay with me till morning, please?"
This time, he didn't hesitate. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against her cool forehead. She closed her eyes again, turning away from him and laying on her other side, so that once again, all he saw was red. This time, it didn't bother him. In fact, her started playing with her hair again.
Eventually, he fell asleep.
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[it drives you crazy, getting old]
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Jace woke up the next morning, his vision blurry. He fumbled around for his glasses, finding them laying on the bedside table. He sat up, rubbing his face and running his hand through his blonde locks. He took in his surroundings, momentarily confused about her whereabouts. Then, the night came back to him, and he remembered the drunk girl and her red hair.
In fact, if he looked to his left, he could see her red hair messily thrown around her. Her silhouette was curled into a tiny ball, and her head was tucking into her chest. She was sleeping with a serene look on her face, and she looked so relaxed that Jace couldn't help but not be mad at her about making him stay the night.
Speaking of which, his parents were probably freaking out about where he was. He didn't go home, and he didn't call to let them know that he wouldn't be coming home.
Jace fumbled around for his phone, surprised that it was still in the pocket of his jeans. He pulled it out, and was surprised to find that there were no missed messages; no texts, no calls. Nothing. Nonetheless, he dialed his mum's phone number, still feeling the need to leave her message. He walked towards another door in the bedroom, pulling it open to reveal a bathroom. He slipped inside, shutting the door behind him so he wouldn't disturb Clary.
The phone rang and rang and rang till it finally hit voicemail. Jace spoke quietly into his phone.
"Hey Mum, just wanted to let you know that I slept over at Alec's house and got a ride to school. See you when I get home, love you." Jace figured it was good enough, so he hung up his phone. He slid it into his jeans again, and sighed. That was the first time he'd lied to his mum; he didn't know why he lied, but there was just something about the redheaded beauty that made him feel the need to hide her from his mum.
He walked back into the bedroom to see Clary sitting in bed, her green eyes flitting around the room with a worried expression on her face and her skin paler then usual. When she saw Jace walk back into the room, relief washed over her face and a slight color flooded her skin. She muttered something under her breath, but Jace was too far away and she said it too quietly for him to hear it. He walked across the room, a smile on his face.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty." Although he should have said good afternoon; it was going on one o'clock. "How'd you sleep?"
She smiled. "Amazingly. It helped that you were there." Clary blushed. "I haven't been getting a lot of sleep lately. You know, with the tests and all. Luke forces me to study for hours on end." She looked down. "Sometimes I feel like what I do is never enough, and that I'm always disappointing him. I mean, on our last semester finals, I brought home a ninety nine, but he still talked about the one point that kept me from one hundred."
Jace sat next her, stroking her hair with his hand. "If it helps, that doesn't disappoint me." He smiled shyly. "A ninety nine is pretty good for a-"
"A girl who gets drunk off her ass all the time?" Clary laughed dryly.
Jace laughed. "I was going to say a junior, but whatever works." He dropped his hand. "But still, that's bad. That's really good."
"Luke doesn't think so." Clary shrugged, standing up. "Anyways, it doesn't matter. No matter what I do, it doesn't please him. God, I wish I was a kid again. When I was a kid, everything I did made him happy. I once made him mud brownies with little pebbles as the chocolate chips, and he thought it was the cutest thing. Now, he thinks I'm a waste of time."
"He doesn't-"
"Just shut up," Clary snapped, suddenly enraged. "How would you know? You're the perfect fucking child, Jace! I've seen you around school. You have A's in every class, you got three perfect scores on your semester finals plus you do extra credit. You applied for Harvard, Stanford, and Princeton, and the biggest challenged you have coming up is choosing between those schools! Shut the fuck up and stop acting like you understand. Last night, you were probably thinking that I was some stupid girl who had no brain and no morals so she just came to a party to drink her problems away and fuck the nearest guy."
"Well, newsflash, I'm not like that!" Clary was almost screaming now, and Jace began to wonder if they were the only people in the house. Probably not; a party like that was bound to have people staying in random rooms. "I actually am smart and I actually do get decent grades. Stop thinking that I'm some child you need to protect, because I'm not. I'm seventeen fucking years old, I don't need yet another parent telling me what to do. Don't act all high and mighty around me Jace; I'm not a fucking kid."
What the hell? Jace didn't quite understand how the conversation got turned to her being pissed at him for trying to soothe her and calm her down.
Clary threw her hands into the air, a pissed look on her face. She shook her head, her red hair whipping around. "Just forget it, okay? Take me home." She leaned over, gathering all her hair in a ponytail and tying it sloppily with the hair tie around her wrist. Jace turned around and slid his shoes on, quickly tying them into knots. He followed Clary out the room, shutting the door behind him. Jace figured whoever threw the party could be stuck with the repercussions of cleaning the mess and making the beds.
Jace unlocked his car, and Clary silently slid into the passenger street, slamming her door. Jace gently closed him, and out of the corner of his eye he saw her rolls hers. He started the car and the rode in silence for a couple minutes, and it wasn't till they got to a stoplight that she spoke up again.
"I hate growing older," Clary said, looking forward. "I mean, I see little kids all the time, running around in the mall and playing outside, and I think how that used to be me. When I was a kid, there was no stress about being the prettiest or being the best or always having perfect grades. I just wish I could've stayed a kid forever." She shrugged. "At least I would have been happy."
Jace didn't say anything; just drove down the streets of the town and listened to Clary talk about wanting to be a kid again.
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[this dream isn't feeling sweet]
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Jace didn't hear from Clary for weeks. They never saw each other in school (Jace would know if he saw that curly red hair and shocking green eyes) and he didn't go to any more parties. He spent his time like he would any other day; waking up, going to school, coming home, studying, eating dinner, studying, sleeping, repeat. It didn't change for him just because Clary suddenly went MIA. He lived through his days without her before; he didn't need to change anything.
Then, one Friday night, his cell phone rang. He jumped, naturally. He'd never had anyone call him before, especially on his cell phone. He answered the call warily, speaking as if he was treading through icy waters.
"Hello?"
"Jace!"
Clary.
Her voice made his blood chill and goosebumps line his skin. His heart began to race at the sound of her voice and his breaths became short and shallow. Since when does she make him feel this way? She was just a girl he met at a party.
"What's up?"
"I had this dream," Clary stated, as if that explained it all. "It was really weird, and the only person that I knew I could explain it to was you. Now, I don't want to explain it over the phone, so I need you to come open your window."
Jace whirled around, and sure enough, staring at him through his window, were green eyes set on pale skin framed with curly red hair. It was her. He ended the call and quickly made his way to the window. He unlocked it, sliding it up with a slight woosh. He popped out the screen, and aided Clary through the frame. He steadied her with both his arms, much like he did the night they met. He shut the window again, choosing to leave the screen cover on the floor below the window.
Clary walked to the middle of his room, and plopped herself right onto the floor. She sat criss-cross, her hands supporting her cheeks while her knees supported her elbows. She waited expectantly as Jace took his time to take the same position as her. They sat knee-to-knee right there, in his bedroom, on a cool Friday night.
"So my dream was scary," Clary said, dropping her hands into her lap. "It was kind of sad too. You were in it, Jace, and we were driving through the town at midnight, in your car. The streets were empty, and you had all the windows down." She smiled slightly. "I felt...relaxed. I could tell. I know it's just a dream, but I could feel how relaxed and calm I felt. We were just talking about God knows what. You were laughing and laughing and laughing and I realized I liked the sound of your laugh, and I was doing whatever I could to make you keep laughing and laughing and laughing. Then you stopped, and when I looked at you, your eyes had this hazy look to them and they looked so far away."
"I asked what was wrong, and you just kept looking forward, and you weren't laughing or talking to me anymore. Then red starting oozing out your arms and onto your jeans and onto the steering wheel, and I started screaming and crying and you just kept driving and driving. There was a weird fog around the car, and it was getting harder and harder to see the road. I think you veered off the street and into a tree, smashing the front of your car. The front window broke and glass tore my face and arms, and it tore yours even worse. You were suddenly bleeding everywhere; from your neck and your forehead, and your lip was cut and your nose was busted, and the front of your shirt was bloody."
"You suddenly started screaming, and it was loud and raspy and it was terrifying. It didn't sound like it should be coming from you at all. You kept screaming, and I kept crying, and then you suddenly stopped screaming. You stopped bleeding, you stopping blinking, and you just stopped everything. You were dead, dead in the car, and I was so scared and terrified and confused because the fog kept getting closer and closer to the car until it overtook the car, and then I woke up."
Jace was chilled to the bone. That was, by far, one of the weirdest dreams Jace had ever heard of. It was creepy to just hear about, imagine having it. Jace rubbed his arms with his hands, trying to ease the chill bumps.
"Sorry," Clary said. "I just needed to tell someone about it. It was really scary, Jace. What if I have it again?"
He didn't hesitate to ask her a question. "Do you want to sleep here? I could sleep on the floor or downstairs, and you could have the bed to yourself."
Clary blushed. "Would you, really?"
Jace nodded, standing up and pulling her with him. "Of course, Clary." He led her to the bed, helping her into it and tucking her under the covers like he did the night she was drunk.
He'd turned to go away when she grabbed his wrist. Sparks ran up and down his arm, and he bristled at her touch. It didn't phase her. "Will you stay with me?" she whimpered. "Please? Sleep with me, tonight. I need you."
Jace smiled, replacing his arm with his hand and squeezing hers tightly. He leaned forward, kissing her on the forehead. This time, it was more then just a brush of the lips. This time, he pressed against her skin, loving the way it felt against his lips. He walked around to the other side of the bed, and slid under the covers.
This time, instead of her turned the opposite way, this time she leaned into him, snuggling her head under his chin and against his chest. Her left hand snaked around his side, pulling her closer to her. Jace wrapped his arms around her, as if he were protecting her from all the bad in the world.
Jace stayed awake until her breathing evened and her arms went slightly limp. He tightened his hold on her, kissing her once again on the head and stroking her back with his fingers.
He wanted her to know she was safe.
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[you're the only friend i need(you're the only friend i need)]
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This time, Jace didn't have to wait weeks for Clary to call him again. When he woke up the next morning, she was still in his arms. He hugged her for about an hour waiting for her to wake up. She woke up, but they didn't get out of bed for yet another hour. They continued to hold onto each other, gripping each other like they would never hold each other again. Jace and Clary lay quietly, knowing that they didn't need words to describe how they were feeling, and they didn't need actions to express their emotions. They just lay there, Clary on top of Jace, her head pressed against his chest and listening to his steady heartbeat, his chin pressed into her hair.
It felt like hours before they finally sat up, looking at each other with a new look in their eyes. Clary's eyes were filled with content, happiness, and a new calm that she'd never felt before. Jace's eyes were filled with a spark, lust, and a new rush of feeling he'd never felt before. Both of them were feeling quite the opposite of what they were used to feeling, but neither of them had any complaints.
Jace wanted to lean forward and lock his lips onto hers. He wanted his hands to roam her body, feel all the different curves and bumps and skin that was her body. He wanted to feel her hands on him, running through his hair and holding his face against hers, her own lips attached to his and locked on as if the only thing that could ever break them apart was a key that didn't exist.
Clary wanted him to hold her, to hug her, to kiss her like no one had ever kissed her before. She wanted to feel him on her, she wanted to feel his lips trailing up and down her body, and he wanted his hands running over her skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. She wanted to run her hands through his hair, feeling his blonde locks tangled against her pale fingers.
Without words and with a silent agreement, they leaned into each other, pink on red as their mouths met for the first time. Jace grabbed for her cheeks, squeezing them tightly but then caressing them with his thumbs. He kissed her like he'd never kissed anyone before; with tenderness and passion, plus a slight hint of lust. They broke apart for a few seconds, staring at each other with longing and wistfulness. He smoothed away a lock of hair, tucking it behind her ear. He tilted her chin up again, kissing her again. Her hands found their way to his hair, and his hands found her hips. He picked her up softly, never breaking the kiss, and set her gently on his lap. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his hips, her hands still in his hair. Jace bit her lip softly, and she moaned at how it felt.
When they broke apart again, he nuzzled his head in the crook of her neck and held her to him, while she traced patterns into his back. They stayed like this for what felt like hours but could have been a few peaceful minutes. Neither of them wanted to break apart. They wanted to stay like this forever.
When they finally broke apart, they looked at each other, words and phrases and sentences swarming through their brains yet not one syllable reaching their lips. Jace's thumb traced Clary's jaw line as he noticed her freckles for the first time. Her fingers combed through his hair, unraveling the tiny tangles that were present in his blonde locks.
Maybe they didn't love each other yet. But they wanted to. They wanted to love each other, they wanted to be in love with each other forever. Jace wanted to wake up to her curly red tendrils and sparkling green eyes every day, and Clary wanted to see his body and face every hour. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
"Clary," he spoke softly, his heart racing faster then ever before. He looked into her green eyes, looking at the orbs that brought him in for the long run.
"Jace," she replied, taking in his deep brown eyes that got her from the beginning.
"Fall for me like I'm falling for you."
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[but that will never be enough(that will never be enough)
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end
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