Yoooo, thanks so much for reviewing and following everyone Iv'e had fun reading them. Break is starting for me at the end of the week so hopefully I'll keep up writing but I have so much homework I've been procrastinating on. Anyway, read on to see what happens next...

ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO CASSANDRA CLARE. NO COPYRIGHT INTENDED.


He has to be lying, alcohol is strictly prohibited on school property. It simply can't be alcohol, he has to be lying. He starts sniffing the bottle again and I freeze where I'm standing. The last time I was near alcohol things had ended very badly. Memories come rushing out from where I'd locked them behind many walls of my mind. My heart quickens in my chest and my hands begin to shake.I am safe I tell myself. For the first time I'm actually kind of grateful that I'm stuck in here. Nobody can get in.

I take a deep breath to calm my darting heart and try to push the shivering out through my fingertips. I can feel Jace's eyes on me. He's probably wondering why I'm not spazzing out over the bottle and creating a system on how much we can drink to preserve it until help comes. Sorry Jace, too busy trying to get these memories to stop zipping around my head.

"Put it down," I say sternly, "we are not drinking that. Do you understand? Just put it down." I move away from him and the bottle as if the distance will make the memories that are still flashing in my head go away. One flashes boldly in my eyes and I remember the feeling of warm amber liquid flowing smoothly down my throat. I remember cold hands at my waist pulling me closer. I inhale sharply as the memory fades leaving me shaken. I feel his eyes on me like he can see through the darkness.

"Woah there hot head, it's not like that," he says.

"Oh so you don't want to drink that? Yeah, ok," I scoff, "just put it down. There has to be a hole or something around here somewhere. There was too much movement for there not to be." I maneuver my way back towards where I was before.

"Hey! Come back here. I thought we coul-"

"Shut up!" I yell cutting him off and turn back to face him. I don't want to hear what he has to say. Boys only want one thing and they take it not caring what the hell happens or who gets hurt.

"You thought we could what? Get drunk and fuck 'cause we're going to die here? Well I've got news for you buddy, even if we were the last two people on Earth I wouldn't fuck you! You're like every other guy out there. All teenage boys think about is getting laid, you don't give a shit about the consequences!" I yell walking back over to him. My voice waivers at the end as another memory surges through me. I stand before him breathless from the shouting, my eyes stinging from fighting the memories. I hate this, him hearing me vulnerable.

I hear his shirt crinkle as he reaches out to me. His hand moves gently to my head and he plays with my blood covered hair. I don't want him touching me, I don't want any of his extremities anywhere near me. But, at the same time I feel an overwhelming attraction towards this creature. I feel a whisper of his fingertips on my forehead and my skin flares beneath his touch. His touch resonates through my body and I am instantly covered in goosebumps. Damn you hormones for making me feel this way when I'm pissed off.

"I was going to say we could use some of this to clean our cuts and scrapes," he says hesitantly.

"Oh… sorry," I apologize. My cheeks flare red, thank god he can't see me. Just like me to make a fool of myself and yell at someone for something they haven't done. But who would blame me for making that conclusion, from the way he was saying it it certainly sounded like he was asking to more than help me.

"We'll clean yours first" I say hesitantly reaching for the bottle, "where are they?" There was no way in hell I was going to let this boy "care" for me. I needed to see him weak first, I needed the power.

"Just some on my arm from when the ceiling fell in," he says placing the bottle in my hands. Our hands brush against each other and I nearly drop the bottle from the heat between us. His warmth is so inviting compared to the coldness surrounding us.

"Ok, um, where are they I can't really see them," I ask. He covers my hand with his and heat spreads up my arm. I have to catch myself from groaning as he leads my hand to his arm. He sets my hand down on his right shoulder and I can feel the starchy material of his shirt under my fingertips. I move my hand gently down his shoulder feeling for where the scrapes are. I feel tacky, almost dry blood from a huge cut on his muscular bicep. But there's something jagged in his arm.

"Jesus," I hiss, "there's something stuck in your arm."

"Oh," I mumble moving my hand over to my right shoulder, "I mean my right arm was hurting but I thought it was because I landed on some debri when we fell." I move my hand down further and feel jagged material beneath my hand. I press on it lightly and pain erupts in my arm. I groan loudly.

"This is how it'll go, ok?" she gives a small mmhm and I continue, "I'm going to pull it out and you're going to pour it on my arm then tie it with part of my shirt. Think you can do that?

"Um… I guess. I could rip your sleeve off," she says hesitantly. I can hear the nervousness in her voice.

"Yeah, use the sleeve from my left arm," I say. She gently places her hands on my shoulder and feels for my sleeve. Her hands are so warm and small and I instantly imagine them elsewhere on my body. Shit, I've gotta stop thinking about her like that or else I'm going try something. I want to be with her but there's something about her that makes me stop. She's hiding something and it probably had to do with a guy otherwise she wouldn't have yelled at me about trying to get with her and she wouldn't be so freaked out about touching me. She rips the sleeve from my shirt and hastily moves her hands away from me.

"Ok," she whispers, "you ready?" I feel the warmth of her body as she moves closer to mine. We can both hear her nervousness from the liquid sloshing around in the bottle. I reach out to her arm and gently clasp it.

"Hey," I whisper moving closer to her so that our faces are only inches apart, "you can do this. I wouldn't want anyone else doing this." It isn't a lie. In the incredibly short time I've been here she's the only person who seems like they genuinely cared. I bring her arm closer to my arm where the debri is and let go.

She takes a deep breath and touches the bottle lightly to my skin. She asks if I'm ready and I mumble a yes. This is going to hurt like crazy. I place my hand over the debri and count to three. My fingers grasp for the debri and I pull it free from my skin. My arm explodes with agony and I yell out. Next thing I know there's a biting pain and I yell out again. I'm doubled over yelling obscenities cradling my injured arm when a bottle is shoved into my free hand. Tiny hands grab my arm and tie something around where the pain is radiating from.

There's a pounding in my head and I'm starting to get dizzy. If I could see anything I would've seen black inching in on my vision. Small hands guide me to the cool ground. I can still feel her hands on my arm, pressing on it firmly. Guess I'm bleeding out. Ha! How funny is that. I survive this earthquake or whatever it is and end up dying from blood loss. How fucking awesome. I didn't even get to kiss Clary or hold her. Never got to run my hands through her hair or feel her body tremble beneath mine.

I hear my name being said and I'm drawn to the angelic voice. I hear it again, "Jace! What the hell are you doing?" Coming to my senses, I realise I am no longer laying down. Instead I'm now in a sitting position. My left hand is in Clary's hair and my right arm is slung around her waist pulling her closer to me. I can feel her chest rising and falling quickly against mine. I can feel the curve of her waist beneath fingertips. I can feel the sharpness of her cheekbone under my hand. What I feel most though is the burning desire that flows so eagerly between us. I want nothing more than to close what little distance there is between us. But I can't do it. She's different. I feel like I have to win her, like I have to prove my worth to be with her.

"I was trying to see if I could see the cut on your forehead," I say making an excuse for our current position.

She snorts and tries to wriggle out of my iron grip anxiously but I really don't want to let her go. This is the perfect chance, she's so close to me. All I have to do is cross the three inches separating our lips and it's a done deal. Instead, I release my clutch from her waist and she pushes away from me standing up. My arm throbs from the movement but it it doesn't hurt as much as the coldness replacing the heat that was just pressed against my body.

Swiping my hands close to the ground I look for the bottle of Jack. My left hand hits glass and I pick it up. I shake the bottle making sure there's still a reasonable amount left, it's half full. I move from the ground and take a swig. I don't care if Clary gets pissed off at me for doing it, that fucking hurt.

"Alright Red, it's your turn."


Oooooh, will our favorite red head give up some power? What shall happen next? Only I know muhahhaha.

let me know your thoughts

With love,

Niska