So I've had this poem stuck in my head constantly and I was going to write a Violet/Tate story around it, but thought it would be better if I chose Clary and Jace. I have no idea if I'm going to finish this story, so if you like it please review so I'll continue!
This story takes place in modern day, the rest you can discover! Enjoy.
Clary's POV:
"And this was the reason that, long ago, in this kingdom by the sea, a wind blew out of a cloud, chilling my beautiful Annabel Lee; so that her highborn kinsmen came and bore her away from me, to shut her up in a sepulchre, in this kingdom by the sea."
I hear from next to me. The room applauds as Simon finishes his poem, but I only move my hand to try to hide my laughter. I gave him the page from my Edgar Allan Poe book so that he wouldn't have to worry about writing a poem of his own. I don't understand the point of writing out our feelings, because I would much rather paint them, but Mrs. Greene demands writing.
The applause dies down and it's my turn, so I hastily raise from my seat. My eyes dart around the room to stare at each person, in a clockwise direction. To the left of me is Simon, who is adjusting his glasses, then Isabelle, a sort of gothic girl who was put here due to her reckless behavior. Next to her is her brother, Alec, and they look just alike- though his eyes are much more cold and demeaning, and the last person in the circle is Magnus, who looks great in his light purple sweater. There really aren't many of us in this group but all of our personalities are different. It provides some sort of interest in the atmosphere. Not like I have much of a choice to come, my mother is forcing me. Mrs. Greene raises her eyebrows and I wince.
"I kind of didn't write one.." I mumble, twisting my hands together nervously, "I'm terrible at writing. Nothing was working."
Isabelle rolls her eyes, but Mrs. Greene gives me that fake, apologetic therapist look. It reminds me of the one my mom used to put on.
"Listen Clary, I know it seems hard but-"
She is cut off by the loud, squeaking noise of the door opening. I immediately spin around, and almost fall backwards.
At the door is a boy who appears to be my age, although he is unlike anyone I have ever seen. His hair is a light gold, and he wears a smirk like he owns it. I watch him closely as his eyes wander around, until they fall on me. Of course, I chose today to wear my hair up in a bun and forget to put on makeup, but he continues to look at me. And his smirk, his smirk widens.
"You must be Jace!" Mrs. Greene announces and I break out of my strange daydream. He nods and takes a slight step forward, but keeps his distance from the rest of us.
"And you must be my least favorite person!" He replies, and I stand in a bit of a shock. I've done terrible things because of my father's abuse, but at least I know not to be rude to authority. But he, Jace, seems to challenge it. For an instant, I swear that his eyes dart to me just as I think that.
Mrs. Greene's cheeks are a bright red, but she keeps her peppy attitude and leads him into the circle. He takes a chair where the 12 would be on the clock, and practically falls into it like it's a bed. I wonder why he's in this group, although something tells me its pretty serious. Maybe he's schizophrenic, or an arsonist or something.
"How about we all go around and introduce ourselves to Jace?" Mrs. Greene asks, and Isabelle groans. I agree. This lady keeps treating us, juniors in High School, as if we were in kindergarten.
"I'm Magnus," I hear from the left side of the room. Jace puts on a face of false interest.
"Alec."
"Isabelle."
"Simon."
Then, all of his attention- or maybe annoyance is on me.
"Clary," I say, watching him with equal intensity. Mrs. Greene grins wildly at all of us, and begins up the poetry circle, but I can still feel Jace's eyes on me. Those eyes that are light, but dark at the same time.
What has he done to get into this group?
And what have I done to spark his interest?
Not really sure how this turned out but I'd love to hear your opinions.