His golden touch shone like the sun on his hair and left blazing trails on her skin like the fire of the red curtain that hung against her neck. A gentle accidental brush of fingertips against her shoulders, her hand, her cheek; each touch burnt with desire. The dark molten gold of his irises as he looks at her through hooded eyelids, burning her face in his mind; the emerald of her eyes, the pink in her cream coloured cheeks, her tangled and troublesome curls that he always thought looked better down.
Clary, she did something to him, to Jace, made him feel things; at first he didn't know what was happening to him and to be honest, he still didn't truly know how she made him feel this way: the burning in his chest every time she was near, the yearning and loss he felt when she wasn't. He knew he shouldn't feel this way, that it was wrong; she was his sister! But somewhere deep down he didn't truly believe that they were related. Whether this was the truth or just his wanting of her creating false hope…he tried to hate her or at least have feelings towards her that a brother should, he really did, he desperately tried not to think of her in that way. He only wanted her to be happy and comfortable around him. The whole situation made him feel like he was drowning, his need to be with her, in a way that was certainly not brotherly, was like his need to breathe in the torrent of water that was his life, his burning desire like the burning in his lungs. He needed her. He wanted her. He didn't care about the so-called mundane consequences, he didn't care what anyone else thought; he cared only about her, what she thought and how she felt. He knew it would be his downfall, his destruction, his love for her was his greatest fear but to him…nothing else mattered.
He looked so hopeful despite the pain that glimmered darkly deep in the liquid gold of his eyes; she knew that his false pretence was all for her benefit, that what she wanted was for him to be a good older brother and for there to be no awkwardness between them. He thought that she was repulsed by his feelings for her when in truth she felt the same way. Logically it made sense for him to be her brother, he did bear some resemblance to Valentine though most of this was in his personality and attitude, which could be attributed to his upbringing. She convinced herself that she was just creating such a possibility of the two of them not being related because of her desperate want of him. She couldn't forget her feelings for him; whenever she saw him they blazed inside her chest as he did when the midday sun touched him. She needed and wanted him as much as he did her though both thought the opposite was true of each other. Clary had always felt a little guilty about her feelings for Jace especially around Simon and now she had an excuse to hate and punish herself for it. She knew that Jace wouldn't want her to feel this way and she didn't know how something so wrong could feel so right. His image was forever burned into her mind: the long, dark shadows his eyelashes cast on his angular cheekbones when he looked down, his golden hair that shone in, and like, the sun and always seemed to look perfect no matter the time of day or situation. And those eyes; they would be her downfall. He would be her downfall, and honestly, she didn't care.