Author's Note: Nothing much, just read and review. It's very important to me.
Summary: After several demon attacks, the Clave grows suspicious that the attacks in Idris has been planned by the returning, ever powerful Sebastian. In order to get him, they plan on baiting Clary & stop the madness. Is the Clave doing the right thing? Post-CoG.
Rating: T to be safe
Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare owns the characters, I only own the story.
Chapter Two: Man to Man
Red curls scattered into the white soft pillow, Jace watched as Clary sleeps next to him. He wanted to stay awake and watch her all night, wonder what inside her mind, what she's dreaming about. Thoughts filled his head, unbelievable crazy thoughts—thought about him being with the girl he thought to be his long lost sister and also happens to be the only girl he ever loved.
She stirred, her eyes fluttered as if she was seeing things. He wondered what are the images flashing beneath her eyelids, but he just wanted to wonder and never know the answer. It makes Clary more mysterious and curious. He wanted to be curious about her, know every part of her.
He leaned forward—his hand traveled into her skin, brushing the curls away from her eyes. She sure felt the warmth of his fingers into her skin, which made her stir a little bit. Then, she slightly opened her eyes, her emerald irises slowly appearing before Jace. "Hey, you're still awake," she murmured, breaking a smile into her pale lips.
His finger pressed into her lips, and soon traveled back into her hair and buried his fingers in her soft bright curls. He hushed her, forming his lips in a somewhat a beak-like shape and leaned in to peck her lips. "Sleep, Clary, we'll have the last day tomorrow in Idris and I plan on having it with you." Her eyes shut down, the dim light and image of her room faded in darkness. Her lips weren't moving, and he wanted to touch it again with his lips, but he didn't want to disturb her sleep once more.
"I love you, Clary, so much." He leaned to kiss her forehead, his wet lips damping into her skin.
She looks so beautiful, probably the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his entire life. Her emerald eyes shining like fresh cool garden, with some shade of other colors. She also had the most kissable lips, the tastiest and the sweetest lips he ever kissed. Her skin was delicate as a glass, fragile that small scars have marked her skin after the long fight and battle with her notorious evilly devious father, Valentine.
Those curly red strands sticking in her skin, they look beautiful in Jace's eyes. It was as bright as the blazing fire and reddest shade of red in his eyes. Some tinier curls were laying downwards her neck, and they seemed to be rolled from rollers which Clary would hardly do and spent her time with.
He turned his head, after hearing a silent and soft knock into the wooden door of Clary's bedroom. He saw the fatherly image of Luke, standing against the doorframe with his arms cross into his chest. Jace lifted his finger to press it just to his lips, signaling Luke to silence.
Luke nodded his head, continuously stared at Jace. Jace lies down next to the sleeping Clary, and he turned his head into Clary. She was silently breathing, lying on her stomach and her right hand resting over her hair in the pillow and her other hand resting under the other pillow. Her eyes stirred, seems to be dreaming.
Jace heard a whistle and he looked back. Luke waved his hand as if to call the young man towards him. Jace stood up, and took one last glance at Clary. She looks peaceful, she seems to be undisturbed. Then, he walked to Luke. They exited the room, and Luke pulled the silver doorknob into his fingers, closing the door as silent as possible. "Would you like some tea? I'd rather ask you because you seem to be planning on watching her sleep all night." Luke stated, nudged an arm around Jace.
Jace kept silent and suddenly glance at Luke. Luke had slipped his arm off from his shoulders and slowly patted. "Yeah," he agreed, "That would be likely." Luke nodded his head.
They walked into the narrow dimmed corridor to the stairs. There was still silence in between them. Luke's heels clacked into the creaking steps, just Jace's heels do. They've reach the kitchen, which Jace had seen a while ago as a dark room with nothing else could be seem but just pitch black darkness. Jace steps into the dim-lighted kitchen, seeing the large square kitchen table on the side of the door. He watched as Luke pulled two seats and handed him one.
Jace sat down; waiting for the tea Luke had offered him. Luke went into the cabinet, and swung the door open. He pulled things down from the cabinet and looked back Jace. "How long has she been asleep?" Luke asked, walking back into Jace with two cups of newly-prepared tea in his hands. He pushed the other cup to Jace before taking a sip into his own.
"About two hours." Luke sits next to Jace.
Jace didn't look up, and continuously stared down at his cup, and into the blurring hot tea. Then, he looked up, noticing that Luke was silent. Jace took another sip and stared at Luke.
"So, you are watching my daughter sleep for two hours while we're at the party? That's completely generous of you, Jace." Luke didn't sound stern at all. He sounds concerning and glad—glad that Clary had found someone like Jace, probably the only man existing in the world with the attitude like him.
"Daughter?" Jace echoed, narrowing his eyes as he continued to look at Luke.
"What? Do you expect me to call her and well…" Luke trailed off, clearing his throat, "And look the same as they way I look at her before I went propose to Jocelyn for marriage like she's not my daughter."
"You look at her like she's your daughter, before and after you have proposed to Jocelyn."
"Well, it's different now." Luke frowned at him, avoiding Jace's eyes.
Jace sighed, setting the emptied cup aside, "Not to her, not to Clary and that's for sure." Luke didn't answer. The time was filled with silent and finishing drinks, but none of them talked. Jace for sure is right about what he said, and Luke knew it. He really just wanted to be a fatherly image to Clary, even before he ever proposed to Jocelyn. Somehow, he still looked impressed that Jace had seen deeper inside him, like what he had seen deeper in Clary, Alec and Isabelle.
Luke glanced up again, but Jace wasn't looking at him. However, he met those golden luminous irises shining against the dim-light bulb. He already knew what Clary had seen in Jace, asides from being stunningly attractive. He knew Stephen Herondale pretty much better, except from Valentine. Stephen was kind, just like his mother, and instantly fell in love with Luke's beautiful sister Amatis.
But when Luke had broke out of the Circle, Valentine had offered Stephen to be his second-in-command—even interfering in Stephen's relationship with Amatis, saying that Amatis isn't beautiful enough to be his wife and isn't powerful enough like any of the shadowhunters.
Amatis is one of the beautiful ladies in the Circle, along with Jocelyn and Maryse. But with the death of the parents, Luke knew his sister had gone weak, knowing that there aren't many things that Amatis can pull some strength off—that there aren't things left in the world to make her better, to make her feel like it's normal.
"You love her?" Luke asked. Jace turned to him, which meant Luke had caught his attention for one, "Clary, I mean." He added, leaning his arms into the table. He waited for the golden haired boy to speak. But Jace shrugged, pressing his lips together. "I hope you're serious about her." Luke said with his voice sharper and a little harsh.
"Why does everything I'm not serious about her?" Jace snapped, trying not to sound so pissed.
"Because I know what you are, Jace."
"Then, what am I?" Jace asked, looking bravely at Luke, "If you're thinking that I'm playing with Clary, maybe our relationship is different. I never really felt committed with anyone before—," Jace broke off. He lifted a hand to cover his lips and suddenly cleared his throat, "before I met Clary."
Luke stared at him, trying to find the lies in his lips and in his eyes—but he found nothing. There weren't any lies in Jace's eyes, he is telling the truth. Maybe it's time for Luke to trust Jace and throw away the fact that Valentine had raised Jace in his own ways and that Jace might be like Valentine.
"If you're gonna have to hurt her—"
"That's not happening." Jace interrupted, his voice rising. But he tried to control his anger. His eyes darkened, showing a darker shade of gold—a rusted shade. Luke did not respond. "I love Clary—and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I know it's too early to say this, but I'm gonna have to marry her someday. I wouldn't let anyone hurt her, even if I have to kill everyone—even me."
Luke looked down; he bowed his head and fell silent for a moment. Jace didn't expect Luke to speak, but he still waited. The silent between seems to be seals and bound by truth and trust. Luke wanted to trust Jace, but he doesn't know what has gotten into him that keeps him from trusting Jace.
Then, Jace decided to stand up. He turned to Luke and broke a faint grin. "I'm just gonna go upstairs. I don't want Clary to be alone. Thanks for the tea, by the way." Luke watched as Jace strode out of the door, with faint footsteps fading into the floor. Luke found himself sitting alone and thinking about the conversation they had.
Pushing the door open, he immediately saw Clary.
She was sitting in the bed, hugging her legs into her chest. He saw the look on the face, she looked sacred. He pushed the door close again, never taking his eyes off her. She avoided his eyes, by keeping her head down. He took faint steps towards her and sits into the bed.
"You're awake? I told you to sleep again." Jace told her. The red shade of her hair didn't fade, it was still there but the color seems to be light. It wasn't that dark anymore. She didn't answer, but he still waited. "What's wrong, Clary? Did you have a nightmare? Did someone break in? Are you sick?" At his questions, she continuously shook her head. Then, he frowned at her. She still didn't open her mouth to speak. Her eyes were darkest, probably the darkest shade of green he had ever seen.
Something is bothering her and he wanted to find that out. "Clary, talk to me." He convinced, placing a hand in her chin. He pulled her face. Her eyes were in tears, burning up as if it was flames as she felt the heat beneath her eyelids. She is holding her tears back. "Please, baby, talk to me."
"I heard your conversation with Luke." She spoke up. He bit his lip and let out a sigh of defeat.
"How much have you heard?" He asked, bravely. She swallowed and stared at him. A tear slides down from her eyes, and her hand immediately went up to wipe the tear away—keeping him from seeing that she's crying. Then, she smirked humorlessly, seems to be annoyed or feeling the stupidity to herself.
"I've heard much enough." She mumbled, and sniffed. Then, she looked up again. Tears continued to well back into her eyelids as she tried to hold them back. But as she tried harder, the more burning pain she felt into her eyes. "Does Luke give you a hard time?"
"Not really." He murmured. He watched her as she lies down comfortably into her chest, and his hand went immediately into the back of his head and the other into her hair. He felt her hand over his chest, and it didn't really tickle him much. She looked up at him, feeling the warmth of his fingers into her cheeks.
"You sound so depressed. I'm sorry if Luke is talking to you like that, I'll just talk to him tomorrow." Clary stated, her hands traveled down into his hands. Their fingers intertwined, locking each finger into each space.
"Don't worry about it. It's better that he knew what my real intention is." He brushed her hair, "I love you, Clary, and I know you know that."
"I do." She faintly cried, "And I love you too." She looked up at him, just as he looked down at her. Freshly green irises met his golden ones. His eyes were nearly the same shade as his curls, falling down into his eyes but he ignored it. Then, she sat up and he just waited her for whatever she will do. Staring down at his lips, she wanted to kiss him right now. Then, he felt her lips crash into him, damping into the wetness of their touch. He felt revived, as if brought back from the dead, but he knew he wasn't dead.
The kiss wasn't really fierce as it was before, but he knew feeling her lips on him was the best feeling he has felt before. She waited for him to kiss her back, until he kissed her. She felt his lips to kiss her back, moving over her smoothly and gently. His hands traveled into her waist, pulling her close.
She pulled away, breaking a smile without showing much of her teeth. "Now, that's relieving, wasn't it?" He shrugged, and grinned with her. She leaned down and hugged him tight. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her tighter into a hug. Clary never wants to end this night, ever. She just wanted to lay down with Jace, talk to him, kiss him, hug him and never worry about the world's problems again.
She wanted to be with Jace Lightwood, as much as he wanted to her to be with him.
Thinking that Jace is her brother is the hardest of all, especially pushing him a thousand times before—but he didn't not give up, knowing that their relation is somehow unfair and untrue. He knew, by feeling, that they weren't related anyway. He knew all along that she was feeling the same way with him.
She wished they could stay like this forever.
To Krizline
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