A/N: Set during Magnus' house party in City Of Bones. Jace told Clary that Isabelle always wanted to be petite anf fragile. Title based off of a quote by some old dead guy (I heard it in CSI on 2 occasions). An elaborating drabble on that line. Read and review? Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments or any of the characters.
Vanity, Thy Name Is Isabelle
Her deep blues eyes flashed with envy as she watched Clary talking to Jace on the edge of the dance floor. Tonight was the first time she had gotten a good look at the redhead's physical appearance, and she had to admit, she was jealous as hell.
Growing up, she had always been slightly taller than everyone around her- Alec, her mother, her father… She even rivaled Jace's height at five feet and eleven inches. When she wore heels, it was even worse.
Curves had blessed her in all of the right places, but even though guys would appreciate them, she did not. There were so many outfits she wasn't able to pull off because of her size, and so many guys she couldn't be with.
Isabelle had always wanted to be petite and fragile. Being delicate had so many perks. It made cuddling more fun, it made the romance sweeter- but as she glanced around Simon's shoulder to look at her adopted brother and the tiny girl at his side, she couldn't help but feeling a resentment towards her own hideous frame.
Clary had everything Isabelle had ever wanted when it came to vanity, and she despised her for it.