Hello! This was supposed to go up yesterday, but the site wasn't letting me upload. Thankfully, the problem was fixed, and I can update this story for you guys to read. :) As always, thanks to Katwood5 for being supportive and awesome and beta'ing this story, and thanks to everyone who has read/reviewed/followed/favorited this story!

I know lots of you guys have told me to "skip the boring parts" and get to the plot, but it's important for me to develop Clary and Jace's relationship and to establish how she feels about him and vice-versa before anything starts happening, because Jace, being a human in this story, won't necessarily go out of his way to protect someone he doesn't care about. So he needs to know her and care about her and develop feelings for her. I'm sorry if you don't like it, I really am, but I need to develop the story and set a pace.

Anyway, I hope you like this chapter!


Sunday was uneventful and boring.

Clary, Jace, and Jon decided that it would be a good idea to not let Jocelyn and Luke know about Clary and Jace's "relationship," because it could get Jace kicked out over something that was not real.

They were lazy that day. There was breakfast at eleven, then Clary did some homework, and then they got back together and watched TV while eating lunch. Then the boys went outside to practice while Clary sketched, and she did some more homework, and then there was dinner. Luke and Jocelyn were there, and Clary kept wondering how Jace could deal with not having family dinners as she laughed at her mom's lame jokes.

"We're having a gala at the gallery in three weeks," she was saying, her eyes shining. "Clary, I think you'd love it."

She smiled. "I'll get a dress."

"So, Jace," Luke said, "how long have you been playing soccer for?"

"Always, really," he replied. "It's mostly always been football, but I've always liked taking a break and taking up soccer, even if it's not with a team or anything."

The boys started talking about soccer and other sports while Clary ate, which she didn't mind. Jace seemed really at ease with her family, which warmed her up on the inside, though she couldn't imagine why. Her brother's friends did typically get along with her parents, even though there were mostly side comments about how their mother was totally hot or whatever. Boys, she'd decided, were pigs.

But Jace wasn't saying any comments that were making her wanting to kill somebody. No, Jace was being polite, and nodding, and even though he wasn't this way with her, she smiled at it anyway.

Jon and Jace were on kitchen cleaning duty while Clary retreated herself to her bedroom. Luke and Jocelyn stepped outside with some wine, to do whatever it was that they did when it was dark and autumn. She made her way inside her room and found her phone.

No missed calls. Thank god.

She was halfway through her United States History homework when someone knocked on her door. It was Jace, which surprised her, even though it shouldn't have. "So," he said, "girlfriend, what're we doing tomorrow?"

"Showing up to school."

"I meant about our relationship."

"Unless you want to get married, I was going to suggest we just hold hands and pretend like we agreed on."

"Yeah, but, I mean, do I walk you to class? Do we sit together?" He was clearly having a hard time with this.

"Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"I wouldn't necessarily call them girlfriends."

"Clearly." She snorted. "We just walk in together. Hold hands. No need to walk me to class or sit together."

"Isn't that what you do when you have a girlfriend? Never look away, her eyes are the most fascinating ever, blah blah blah?"

"Although my eyes are pretty fascinating," she said, "that's not necessary."

"Okay, so this won't be so bad."

"You could at least pretend like the idea of dating me doesn't sound like torture."

"Sorry." He shrugged. "I'm not used to this."

"I'll see you in the morning," she said, which was his cue to close the door.


She couldn't sleep.

Jace Wayland had her thinking about having a boyfriend, and it made her restless. Every time she pictured having someone to be with, his face showed up, and it annoyed the hell out of her.

She got up, finding the bed sheets suffocating and the air too stuffy in her room, no matter how low she set the AC's temperature. She opened the door of her room—

—and bumped into something hard.

"Jon?" she asked, but it didn't feel like her brother.

"Close enough," Jace muttered, his voice loud against the dark.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was in the bathroom," he said, "and was walking back to my room when you hit me with your whole body."

"Sorry about that."

"Can't sleep?" he asked, knowing the answer already.

She nodded. "I keep thinking too much."

"I can't sleep, either," he confessed. "Sunday nights are hard for me to sleep."

"Same here," she said, surprised to find someone else who only had trouble sleeping the way she did on Sundays, knowing full well that she had to get up early the next day. "I'm going downstairs, if you wanna come."

"Sure," he whispered, and they made their way down the stairs.

The house, as it usually was at night, was eerily quiet. Clary was scared that her brother would catch them going down the stairs together and would think of it as something more than innocent, but her brother had been strangely understanding this weekend. He was okay with one of his friends getting close to Clary, which he usually wasn't. There was something about Jace, though. Something that made them all trust him without giving it a second thought.

She found it comforting. She found him comforting, full of a strange familiarity that made her want to keep him around, even when she knew she couldn't.

She tossed him a water bottle from the fridge and sat beside him on one of the stools.

"Are you sure you're okay with tomorrow?" She was whispering so low that she could barely hear herself. "We could back out of it. I could tell him you dumped me and that I don't feel like going out anymore, and—"

He shook his head. "Do you hate me so much that you don't want me around, Clary Fray?"

It was the total opposite, and she didn't know how to tell him that without accidentally confessing that she felt an undeniable attraction toward him despite only having known him for a couple of days.

"It's not that," she said to him. "It's just that…you have more important stuff to deal with, and I can deal with Sebastian, and won't this whole thing just make things awkward between us? And I mean, you don't even know me." She was ranting, but she didn't care; all she could focus on was keeping her voice down and her mind from wandering to strange and wonderful places.

"Clary." His voice was firm. "I want to help you out. Think of this as me trying for redemption after having done some pretty awful crap. Besides, you were right earlier about this being taken thing helping my sex life."

She couldn't help but smile. "Thank you."

"I don't trust him," was all Jace said. "A guy that doesn't take no for an answer isn't one you trust to leave you alone."

It seemed like an obvious thing to say, but Clary realized that he meant she would need to have a guy around to keep Sebastian from jumping on her as soon as he got the chance.

"What does he even want with me, anyway?"

"He wants sex," he stated. Bluntly. "He knows you like him, and he knows you seem innocent and sweet and would agree with it—or, well, he thinks so."

"I wouldn't," she said, shaking her head.

"He doesn't know you," he replied. "So he wouldn't know."

"And he wouldn't have bothered to know me."

"Some of us suck," Jace told her, sliding off the stool. "You should go to sleep."

She nodded sleepily. Despite the fact that her lids felt heavy, she didn't think she would be able to get any sleep any time soon.

Once she made it to her bedroom, she felt alive. Awake. Pissed. Wanting to see Jace. He'd only been in her life for forty-eight hours, and she already felt something for him.

But she also felt small. Really, really small. She couldn't believe that a guy like Sebastian would actively seek out girls and basically take advantage of the fact that they found him cute. Sure, it was one thing to find someone cute, and sometimes she imagined kissing him, but she was in no way prepared to have sex with him. And, well, she knew that he wasn't exactly going to let her get away with saying no.

It made her feel like the smallest person alive to know that she could so easily be told to do something she would never consider.

Clary found herself standing in front of the guest room without really knowing what she would do. She knocked on the door thrice, hesitantly, scared of what would happen if the door burst open.

And, suddenly, as the thought crossed her mind, there he was. He was wearing his pajama pants and shirt, and his hair was sticking out in all directions while still managing to look like the best hair anyone could wear. "Clary?"

"Were you sleeping?" She made a face, not having considered that an option.

"I was trying to, but couldn't." He shook his head. "You okay?" He looked at her like it was weird that she was standing in front of his bedroom at two in the morning, but it kind of was.

"Can I come in?" She hated how small her voice sounded.

He nodded, opening the door wide enough for her to come in and shutting it when she was already near the bed. She sat on the edge of the bed, hugging herself. She didn't know what would happen when she stepped inside the room, but she felt herself growing emotional.

Oh, no.

"Clary?" He knelt in front of her. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head. "I can't sleep," she said, "and all I keep thinking about is that stupid Sebastian Verlac didn't even like me for me and would force me to have sex with him." She let out a deep breath. "But I guess it's stupid to think that any guy would look at me and think, 'Oh, there's a girl you wanna get to know,' or 'Oh, there's a girl you want to fall in love with.'" She laughed bitterly. "I'm an idiot."

He didn't say anything, just watched her as she wiped a tear and hugged herself closer. She didn't know why he wasn't saying anything, but it didn't matter. Getting the words out was helping, even if he wasn't saying anything particularly comforting.

But then he spoke. He said, "Clary," and ran a hand through his hair, repositioning himself as he did. He said her name like a sigh, but not like Sebastian Verlac had. He said it like it was a thought that always sat on his lips. "I'm not good with talking to girls I actually get along with. I suck at it, actually," he added, "because I've been Sebastian Verlac for a while—a better version, true, but I've also had sex with the girls who like me and maybe led them on a little when I shouldn't have." He didn't know why he was saying these things, but he kept saying them anyway. "I guess that's how I know that he's an asshole. An idiot. He's not worth your time or your thoughts or anything."

She wiped a stupid tear that fell from her eye, cursing it as she did. "I don't even know why I'm telling you any of this."

"I don't either," he replied, "but I'm glad you're telling me. Like I said, I suck at this. I don't know you that well, but I already think you're great. And I like knowing you. I like finding out how you react to things, and what you do every day, and how my name sounds when it comes from your lips."

As the room grew silent, she heard rain falling hard outside. The sound it made against the roof echoed around the house, giving them something to listen to when they couldn't say anything. "Jace?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I tell you something?" She hesitated briefly before adding, "And can you not make fun of me for it?"

"I can try," he said, only half-joking, and gave her a nod.

"I haven't had my first kiss."

She didn't know why she said it. It was partly because he, being her fake boyfriend, had the right to know in case he tried to kiss her. It was also partly because she felt like she had to share something.

"I know," he said. "Well, I figured."

"You assume too much." They were so close, Clary thought, and she could feel her breath against his.

"It's one of my few faults." He sat up more so that he was face-to-face with her. "Can I ask you something?"

She shrugged. "Sure."

"How did you imagine your first kiss?"

She sucked in a breath, not knowing how to answer the question without crumbling. "I've imagined it many times," she said slowly, deciding to trust her voice. "But it's never about the place or the person. It's always about the feeling."

"What feeling?" His voice was barely audible. The rain beat down harder, making Clary feel like she was drowning too much feeling.

"I don't know," she replied. "It's a good feeling. Like…the kind of feeling you get when you're so happy you can't breathe, and you feel like you're flying."

There was silence.

And then: "Clary?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I kiss you?"

She had her eyes closed—when had they closed?—and, when she opened them, she sucked in another breath. His face was so, so close. It was too dark for her to see him, but she saw the shape of his face, the strength of his jawline, and curve of his lips.

She nodded, not trusting her voice, because she knew that she would come undone if she tried to say a word.

When his lips met hers, her world came crashing down. It was like she had been feeling nothing for so long, and she was finally taking it all in: the taste of his lips like mint and the roughness of his hands against her skin. She cupped his face in her hands, bringing him closer, and smiled against his lips. The beauty of the moment was unreal; he was unreal. His hands dropped to her waist, and she didn't even try to stop him.

She never wanted to stop feeling his mouth connect with hers, never wanted his hands to stop exploring her bare skin. They grazed the skin of her sides as her shirt lifted with the kiss, and she didn't even bother to feel self-conscious. All she could want was there, in the kiss and in the words he'd said to her.

The first thing she felt when they broke apart, when his hands and lips and emotions were no longer on her, was emptiness. She looked at him questioningly, her eyes big and innocent against the stark night. He ran a hand through his hair, another hand resting on her knees.

"I'm so fucked," he whispered, and he kissed her again.


Let me know what you think! x