Hi. I'm a terrible updater. School has been seriously kicking my ass; senior year sucks, trololol. Anyways, I had half of this chapter done - I actually turned it in for a vocab assignment ... and I never bothered with it until now, where I promised myself I wouldn't update the final chapter of my other story until I updated this!
By all means, this is seriously one of my favourite chapters for any story I've ever written. At least, the very ending of it. :D
chapter three; "and i can't understand."
It was obvious to Jace that by the time he and Clary made it to the bottom floor of his apartment complex, she was effete – her drooping eyelids were a heavy indicator of that. Jace chuckled to himself in amusement – she looked terribly cute like that – as they made their way up the steps to the third floor, where Jace's apartment was. He wasn't in the noisome part of New York City, where it constantly smelled like garbage, but he wasn't exactly in the upper class area. It was suitable for him, however – it was a place to live and he took it with good grace.
And even though they walked in complete silence to the apartment, Jace's neighbour's – and two best friends – knew something was up. If anything, the Lightwoods were not oblivious; they were, in fact, the keenest people he knew. He knew that Isabelle would be peering out her peephole, waiting patiently to pounce … but Jace could only hope that Isabelle would know that today was not the time. His body posture was practically radiating as he shoved the key into the keyhole. When he didn't hear a door open, he knew that he was safe – for now. The blonde made a mental note to go talk to his friend once he got Clary situated.
"Well, it's not much, but it's home," Jace said as he shut the door behind him. Clary stepped forward, looking at the apartment in awe. It was so different compared to the one she lived in. The biggest difference, other than the general colours, was that this apartment was almost spotless. Hers had been the home of an artist – paintings and paint everywhere, showcasing her slightly scattered brain. And the more she listened, the more she realized just how quiet it was – there was no caterwaul coming from the next room over that would prevent her from sleeping soundly at night. It was just the normal New York City sounds.
Jace cleared his throat as he watched her take in the surroundings. "There's a bathroom down the hall on the first door to left. After that is the bedroom, where you'll be sleeping. I'll be out here, on the couch." Clary nodded, a distant look in her eyes. She seemed off in her own little word. Jace couldn't help but wonder if she was going to take off in the night, but a rational part of his brain reassured him that she wasn't going too.
Clary put her case down, suddenly wishing she had her sketchbook – or something – to draw with. But, that wasn't the time for that – now was the time for her to take a shower, which she so desperately needed. It had been at least two days since her last shower. Actually, the hot water rolling down her body sounded like the best idea right now. "I'm going to take a shower," Clary finally mumbled, only loud enough for Jace to hear her.
He responded with a small smile, his eyes soft. "Alright," He responded. He was going to add on something else – about how he was going over to his friends to get her a pair of clothes – but before he could even finish his word, she was already down the hall. With that, he turned on his heels and headed out the door, making sure not to lock it behind him. For a few moments, he had no reason to believe that someone would randomly break into his apartment, even if it wasn't the smartest idea to leave it unlocked.
Within seconds, he waltzed through his friend's door, who was waiting for him. She was lying in a supine position on the couch, her left hand dangling off the side with a stern look on her face. He knew that look – it was a displeased look, mixed in with a little bit of interest. Jace fought the urge to roll his eyes as he plopped down on the couch next to her.
"I don't want to hear it. What I want is for you to help me out and get this poor girl a pair of clothes she can change into. I know she's not your size, but you're close enough." Today, Jace wasn't interested in the raillery that Isabella and he so commonly shared - he was there for one thing and one thing only. But he knew that he wasn't going to get off that easily; once Isabella started going, she started going. She had a hidebound personality and it was almost impossible to change her mind once the thought came to her.
"Oh, no, no, no. I'm not going to help you out until you tell me what the hell you think you're doing. Don't you see that she's got bruises on her face? What did you do? Tell her all these lies and then convince her to spend the night in your little web?" Isabelle had become highly defensive over the past two years, due to her own abusive relationship.
Jace's blood was boiling. How was he supposed to explain to Izzy that this girl was different than all the other girls he had been with? There was something about her personality, something that kept him intrigued… Jace only scoffed and rolled his eyes. "That's chimerical, Izzy. Of course I noticed the bruises on her face. Do you really think I'd stoop that low?" Her eyes told him yes. He sighed. "Look. She didn't have a place to stay tonight and there was no way I was going to let her to go back to wherever the hell she came from."
The idea did not please Isabelle. She shot straight up from her position, her arms crossing against her chest. "And she couldn't get a hotel, why?"
"Because that's stupid! If she gets a hotel, the man who did this to her could come back. Okay? I don't like the idea of her being out there, alone, on the streets, when she could get hurt – or worse. You out of all people should know that." Jace had struck a nerve and he knew it. He watched Isabelle's face falter, knowing she was thinking back to her life two years ago. Finally, she stood up, her eyes dark.
"Fine. Fine. Fine. But that was a low blow, Jace. Are you really that much of a poltroon?" Jace raised his eyebrows at his sister-like-friend, surprised she even knew what the word meant. Without another word, Isabelle disappeared into her room, no doubt getting a pair of clothes for Clary. His mind wandered as he looked around the room – it had changed since he had been it, which had been a little over a week ago. The biggest thing was that there was now a picture of Isabella and her quasi-boyfriend named Simon.
This caused Jace to raise an eyebrow. From what he could recall, Isabelle and Simon hadn't been 'exclusive' … so why did she have a picture of the two of them? Now she's really the one to judge, Jace thought with a bitter laugh. Luckily, he didn't have to wonder about that for long, because Isabelle came back into the room with a bag in her hand. She thrusted the bag at him, her face impassive.
"She damn well better be worth it, because so help me God, I will kick your ass to next Tuesday." That was a dismissal if he ever heard once. This time, Jace did roll his eyes as he took the bag into his hands and muttered his thanks. Within a matter of minutes, he managed to obtain a pair of clothes that would be good enough for the night. Jace would also insist on laundry, partly because of his anal retentive personality and it was always better to have clean clothes.
As soon as he stepped through the door, he knew that was something was wrong right away. His sense has gone on high alert and he was mentally scolding himself. Leaving the door open had been incredibly stupid on his part, considering how he was in New-fucking-York… and he was a police officer! How absurd for him to think she'd be alright for even a few moments in an unlocked apartment, especially in the current state she was in.
"Clary?" Jace called out as he held on to the bag, shutting the door behind him and locking it with the deadbolt. There were no obvious signs of an entry – but that was never a dead giveaway. How many crimes scene had he secured looked untouched until he moved forward? Countless of them and he knew it. His stomach knotted as he moved towards the back of the apartment, to the bathroom where Clary was supposed to be.
Yet, she wasn't there.
"Clary?" Jace repeated himself, this time a little bit louder. He peeked through the bathroom door, but didn't see any signs of movement – or Clary, for that matter. Jace instantly backed out of the bathroom and considered the possibilities of where Clary could be. The living room and the kitchen were all out of the question, because he had passed them – which meant that the bedroom was the only plausible option. Without even blinking, he pushed his way into the bedroom.
Clary was there. She looked miserable and had a frantic look in her eyes, but she was there. Jace sighed in relief as he dropped the bag on the floor. He recognized her body posture – she was scared beyond all belief, but that look instantly softened when she saw Jace. It was just now that Jace realized she was only wrapped in a towel, showing off her skinny legs and bare shoulders. Jace gulped as he tried to look away from her barely clad body, but found out harder than possible.
She wrapped her arms around him and Jace was very well aware of the fact that the only thing keeping the towel on her body was the fact that she had her arms around his waist. "Oh, God, Jace. I … I … where were you? I came out of the shower and you … you weren't there." There were tears coming out of her eyes right now, instantly getting his shirt wet.
Jace flinched. He knew exactly why Clary was responding the way she was and it was his fault. He had promised that he was going to keep her safe, and in a way, that had been a breach of that promise. In was all in good intentions, but it was still a break in a promise. He tightened his grip around Clary, mentally scolding himself for what he had done. He ran a hand through her wet hair without thinking, but she didn't falter away. If anything, she held onto him closer.
"I'm sorry, Clary. I should have told you – my best friend and his sister live right across the hall. She's roughly about the same age and size as you, so I asked her to lend you some clothes. That's all, I promise. I thought you'd take longer in the shower." This was true – he had never known a girl to take such a short shower. He locked one of his hands in her silky smooth hair as she pushed her head away from his chest, her green eyes locking with his golden ones.
Clary was unsure how long they stayed like that, but it was comforting. At that moment, she didn't think about the bruises on her body – the ones that had been hidden her clothes – or the fact she was pretty much naked with a stranger. It didn't matter, because she felt safe… and safe was something she hadn't felt in a long time. Eventually, she cleared her throat and a faint blush crept across her cheeks.
"I'm sorry for freaking out… I just … I don't know," she mumbled, her tone laced with embarrassment. Jace hesitated as he unlocked his hand from her hair and brushed it against her jaw, where a faint outline of a bruise still was. She flinched for a moment, but held her ground.
"Don't worry about it. I'm sorry I didn't tell you." He kept his hand lightly along her jaw for a few moments before he cleared his throat. "Isabelle should have given you something to sleep in and a pair of clothes for tomorrow. I'll put your clothes in the wash for tomorrow, in case you want those as well." He didn't want to tear away from Clary, simply because of the towel and …. well, he just didn't want to leave.
Clary shook her head slightly, bringing herself out of whatever mental state she had been. Her face turned into scarlet as she seemed to realize how she was dressed and pulled away, pulling the towel closer to her body. With the awkward moment lingering in the air, Jace ran his hand through his hair. "I'll be out in the living room if you need me," he finally said. With that final statement, he turned on his heels and made his way towards the living room.
The television provided a great distraction. He found himself engrossed in one of the stupid cop shows and had watched at least two episodes before he heard something that sounded like a muffled scream. Jace shot up from his spot on the couch and ran back into the bedroom, where he found Clary thrashing back and forth on the bed. She was still sleeping, which worried Jace even more. He recognized the signs of a nightmare.
He didn't think, he just acted. He just pulled himself into the bed and pressed his body weight against Clary's, holding her down and whispering sweet nothings into her ears. She still continued thrashing around for a couple of moments but found herself easing into a sense of familiarity. It was the smell of Jace that caused her to open her eyes, her breathing heavy.
They didn't speak. They just kept their eyes locked together and Clary stopped moving underneath him. Fifteen minutes later, she managed to fully calm down and her breathing had returned to normal. Jae realized this and moved from his position. Jace made a move to get out of the bed, but Clary grabbed onto his wrist. The electricity shot between them and Jace froze.
"Don't go… Please, don't go," her voice was more than a whisper but Jace heard her as clear as day. He titled his head to the side as he looked at Clary, looking for any signs of betrayal on her face. There was none. His mind was telling him that this was a terrible idea but his heart was saying yes. Instead, he lay back down on the bed and Clary snuggled in closer to him, her whole body relaxed. Without thinking, one of his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to him…
"I'm not going anywhere, Clary."
The redhead sighed happily as she closed her eyes. Clary knew that it probably wasn't smart, but something inside her told her that Jace was safe, that he wasn't going to break his promise. Her trust when it came to boys was shot for the most part … and yet, she knew that with Jace, he really wasn't going anywhere.
Seriously, I love that last little bit ... I'm such a hopeless romantic...
Review, alright? You know you want too. (:
