Colors.
That's what Clary was to Simon.
An array of colors.
Sometimes she was red. The color of fire, blood, love, temper. Red. In those moments, when she was so full of love and passion, or fire and anger, she was red.
Sometimes Clary was green. Nature and life, those emerald eyes. When she was sketching, gazing so intently at her subject, or when she was walking through Luke's farm, she was green.
Sometimes she looked yellow. The warmth of light and sunshine, her shining personality, yellow. When she was happy, looking at everything with her optimistic heart, when she talking brightly, she was yellow.
Sometime Clary appeared blue. The steady rolling of the waves, the vast greatness of the sky. Those times when she was so calm, when she was the only thing keeping him grounded, she was blue.
Sometimes she was purple. The shade of both new and old, the unique flashing of time. Sometimes when they were reading anime, or watching movies, or just talking, he noticed that she was purple.
Sometimes she was orange. A mix of emotions, bright and happy, warm and steady. When she was just being Clary. This was when she was orange.
Colors.
That's what Clary was to Simon.
An array of colors.