Part Deux of update for today! Whew, this took some editing, but I think it's worth it, don't you? Let me know in the reviews! Merci beaucoup :)
Songs:
Siempre Tú by Diego Boneta (For the first scene with the…uh, yeah…I prefer the Spanish version because Spanish is such a sexy language, but for all those non-Spanish speakers, the English version is just as good-cough mentirosa cough :D)
Love The Way You Lie by Stephanie Gee (For the last scene after the gig; I know she didn't write the original chorus, but her version is so mellow and beautiful! It's on YouTube, so CHECK HER OUT!)
One year ago, mid-June, Fairchild Residency…
Her heart was pounding against her chest like a caged bird desperate to be free as she stepped through the threshold of the front door with him trailing behind her. He had been silent for the most part–probably lost in thought about the show since summer meant more free time–which left Clary dangerously alone in her own muddled thoughts. Thinking back to the conversation she had had with Izzy a week ago, Clary spent the entire walk from Eric's house wondering how to go about the things Izzy had suggested for her.
"Just be relaxed," Izzy had advised. "No pressure, okay? Otherwise, you'll over think things and start to doubt yourself. If it helps, shower beforehand and spend time looking at yourself in the mirror with just your bra and panties on."
Unfortunately for her sake, Clary had low self-esteem that stemmed form her petite frame, flat chest and small butt. So either of Izzy's suggestions hadn't worked out so far, considering Clary was getting more paranoid by the second.
Yes, she wasn't the type to usually throw something that meant this much to her away so fast, but Jace's birthday–and their anniversary–was coming up in a week and she couldn't think of a better gift. They had been going out for almost exactly two years, the day so vivid in her imagination that she didn't need to close her eyes to call upon the memory. Her nostrils were filled with the scent of sea salt and smoke, her skin cold in some places while warm in others due to the fire flickering before her eyes and her eyes glazed over as the flame danced in front of her…
"Is anyone home?" Jace asked, interrupting her thoughts. Clary turned around and smiled nervously at him as he shut the door behind them and stared at her, an eyebrow raised in question.
"No," she said nonchalantly, folding her arms across her chest to silence her erratically pounding heart. Okay, Clary, think! What did Izzy say? Think sexy and you are sexy! Remember, you're wearing a three-piece bright red lingerie set consisting of a silky lace bra with a matching low-rise G-string and garters to hold the stockings in place. Izzy bought it last week for this one night so you can feel sexy. Don't screw it up!
But instead of the thoughts in her head reassuring her, they frightened her more. She knew she wanted this, but did he want this? What would he do or say if this wasn't what he wanted at all? Would he think lower of her? And what would she do or say if he rejected her?
Throughout their entire relationship, the most they did was kiss and touch romantically, and it was all very…platonic, gentle. Yes, they had their moments where the kisses were so overwhelming, Clary felt like she was drowning in them and enjoyed spending hours getting lost in Jace, but this…this was something new. Territory that had yet to be ventured into–and it was about time.
The instant Clary had spoken, a naughty glint sparkled in Jace's eyes in the same nanosecond a mischievous grin played on his lips. Two can play at that game, Clary thought as she returned the coy smile. When Jace raised an eyebrow, Clary took two steps closer until her lips hovered a hairsbreadth away from his and stayed there for a second, testing him.
Keeping her eyes locked on his, she felt his breaths coming out in shallow spurts and she smiled in satisfaction when his pupils dilated as they drank her in. Need, lust, want and desire flickered across his expression and she made sure to enjoy every second of it before as she slowly tilted her head to the side and ever-so-lightly grazed her lips against his soft skin right at the corner of his lips.
She felt him stiffen at the touch, knowing that the spark that coursed through her lips the moment they touched his skin had shocked him. The kiss–sweet and gentle–ended quickly, but Clary kept her head there a second longer as she breathed out the three words that would seal the deal for that night: "Come with me."
Whatever had gotten into Clary, Jace hoped would stay in her for the rest of the night at the very least. The confident swagger in her walk, the way she shook her hips and flaunted it, and hell, that up-to-no-good look in her eyes drove him over the edge. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time all over again. And it wasn't just the fact that she was being so goddamn sexy at the moment, but the confidence she was radiating that he hadn't seen in almost a whole year.
Though he wouldn't hesitate to mention the fact that he greatly appreciated the sex appeal she was exuding. She wasn't even holding his hand as she led him upstairs; no, she was leading him by the rhythmic pattern of her mesmerizing hips and the simpering smile she tossed over her shoulder every time she glanced back at him and saw he was watching her. And hell, the smoldering fire in her eyes was causing his heart to palpitate in ways that would concern any doctor had he been attached to a heart monitor.
But when they stopped in front of her bedroom door, instead of opening it, Clary spun around and blocked it with her body. Unable to help himself, Jace pressed a hand on either side of her face against the door behind her and leaned in, grazing the sensitive skin behind her ear with his soft lips and placing kisses there. When he felt Clary shudder and moan in response, Jace smirked, his ego temporarily pleased.
He was about to start a trail of kisses going from behind her ear down to her collarbone when she surprised him by placing a hand on his chest and gently shoving him off. He stared up at her, easily confused by her actions.
"Count down from thirty seconds after I close my door," she breathed, and before he could ask, she opened the door and slid behind it, clicking it shut in front of him. Jace stared at the door, his thought processing skills temporarily impaired by the rush of hormones and adrenaline coursing through his veins.
"I don't hear any counting," Clary teased from the other side. That was when it clicked; she was definitely up to something, and whatever it was, it was going to be a surprise for him. Unsure of whether or not to be excited by this, Jace leaned in closer, lightly resting his weight on the door by his fingertips as he pressed an ear against the wood.
"Thirty…" he began. At first, he heard nothing; his voice rumbling against the wood made it hard to hear and Jace had to close his eyes to hone in on his hearing. Concentrating as hard as he could, he picked up a soft sound–the rustling of fabric…but what? "Twenty-nine…twenty-eight…"
What could she possibly be doing in there? Since his eyes were closed, Jace imagined Clary standing in the middle of her room and tried to piece an action to the sound of rustling fabric. Was she making her bed? If so, why? They were probably going to end up messing up the sheets anyway…so it didn't make much sense. "Twenty-seven…twenty-six…twenty-five…"
His ears registered her floorboard underneath her carpeted floor creak and since the only area where that occurred was near her closet, he figured she had walked over there. But…why? This aggravated him just as much as it thrilled him and above all, he only wanted to be in the room with her, taking advantage of her parents' absence instead of wasting time outside her bedroom playing guessing games with her.
"Do I get to come inside now?"
"Twenty-two," she chimed back, giggling. Wait…giggling? What the hell was going on in there?
"Twenty…nineteen…" he continued, sighing. In the back of his mind, he wondered how Clary would react if she were to open the door at the moment to see him positioned in such a way. He smiled, picturing her staring at him with a weird look as she laughed.
And that's when he heard it; the soft yet distinct zzzzip! that could be identified anywhere. So she was taking off her jeans? God, was this her sort of way to torture him for laughs? Narrowing his eyes, Jace promised himself to not bother holding back the moment she would open the door.
Deciding he couldn't want any longer, Jace was about to finish the countdown with "Five, four, three, two–" but was interrupted the moment the door swung open. Fortunately for him, he had the reflexes of a cat and managed to compose himself before falling off balance. Unfortunately for him, he hadn't anticipated what he would see the moment the door would actually open.
Before he was able to process anything, Clary–now wearing nothing but what had to be the most provocative piece of clothing (scratch that: whatever she was wearing clearly didn't make the cut to be called "clothing") he had ever seen her wear throughout their two years together–threw herself at him with full force, wrapping her hands around his neck and pulling him in as close as physically possible.
Stunned beyond belief, Jace kept his eyes open as Clary continued the assault and let them roam her body, drinking in every detail of her new wardrobe. Hell, who was this seductress and what happened with my girlfriend? And even though a good ninety eight percent of him didn't seem to care about anything except how the red of the lingerie would match with the white of her carpeted floor, a measly two percent couldn't help but be curious as to what led her onto this new swap.
The funny thing was that regardless of whether or not he wanted time or space to ask Clary about the new swap, she wasn't letting him have it; no, instead, she was pulling him by his shirt collar over to her bed and before he knew it, she was sitting on top of him staring down at him expectantly.
"Well?" Clary asked, leaning forward to put a hand on either side of his face.
"Well what?"
"Well," she giggled, kissing him on the cheek. "I was wondering how you'd like to go about this."
"And this would be…?"
But this clearly wasn't the answer she was going for, proven by the way Clary pulled back to frown at him. "This being us and what we're about to engage in."
Jace smiled smugly, tucking his arms behind his head. Yes, he could most definitely get used to Clary being on top of things, including himself.
"Jace, listen to me," she said sternly. "Do you have any idea what's about to…you know…uh, happen?"
He was clueless; what was going to happen? They were going to kiss? How was that different from any other time they made out? "Well, I had originally thought I was going to be the instigator like I usually am, but hey, if you want to take the reins every now and then, feel free to–"
"Jace," she interrupted, and that was when he noticed how serious she was. "I don't know how to say this, but…I kind of wanted to have sex with you."
Clary watched anxiously as Jace stared back at her, his eyes wide with disbelief, and hoped that he would at least think before he said anything that could possibly crush her spirit. But the longer he went without saying anything, just simply staring at her, the deeper she fell into the abyss of despair and mortification. That is, until he finally reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her up just when she was about to hit an all-time low.
"Clary," he grunted as he adjusted them both to a more comfortable position–her sitting a few feet away from him, "are you sure about this? I mean, you can't just dive into these kinds of things headfirst without thinking about it. It might not be a big deal for you, but you still have got to plan–"
"Are you a virgin?" Clary interjected. Jace stared at her incredulously; what was up with her? There she sat a few feet away from him, her bottom lip jutted out in a petulant pout with her brow furrowed in anger and her arms folded high across her chest in a defiant manner, acting completely unlike herself. Was her lingerie on too tight or something?
"Clary, that isn't–"
"Just answer the question, Jace," she snapped. "Are you or are you not a virgin?" It was incredible how, even in the span of two years, sex had been a major topic neither of them decided to bring up. Not even past relationships, come to think of it. And now, embarrassed and horrified as ever, Clary was having these nagging thoughts that while Jace may be her first everything, she might not be his first anything. Yes, she was fully aware of how goddamn attractive he was and how she even had to snuggle up with Jace everywhere they went to stop the other girls within their vicinity from ogling at him, but never once did she ever really stop to think how many other girls he had had before her…and just how far he had gone with them.
And the fact that Jace was refusing to answer her simple question infuriated her beyond belief–his refusal being the insignificant reason she was so upset. No, it was the stupidity that overwhelmed her for not asking sooner, before she ever considered taking such a huge risk only to end up getting hurt more than she once thought possible.
Back when she and Simon were young toddlers, Simon had thought of the brilliant idea to pour salt on any slug he saw because of a show he watched on TV. Clary, of course, had never seen how a slug reacted to salt before and decided she wanted to, only because Simon convinced her to join in. So when her mother wasn't looking, Clary stole a saltshaker from the kitchen, ran outside to where Simon was with their victim and poured a mountain of salt on top of it. At first, nothing seemed to be happening. But then with time and patience, Clary noticed the slug slowly shriveling up, the salt sucking all the water out of the slug's body and couldn't help but feel guilty for it.
That was how her heart felt at the moment–like the slug's body, and Jace's overall behavior was the lethal salt that was slowly draining the life out of her. "How many?" she asked quietly, her voice echoing in her ears due to the stifling silence.
"How many what?" Jace asked, his voice raw and throaty.
She didn't even bother looking at him as she spoke. "How many girls did you sleep with before me?"
"Clary–"
She glanced up and gave him the dirtiest look she could possibly muster. She knew she didn't really want to know, because none of them matter, right? They were all his past and she was his present…and possibly future. That is, if she wasn't royally screwing up her chances for a future.
She watched as he ran a hand threw his golden locks and had to fight the urge to swipe it away so that she could do it for him. Then, he turned his eyes to her and she saw the hurt and frustration in their golden depths. "Clary, I don't want to lie to you, but I don't want you to worry about some other girl coming from nowhere and taking me away from you. Because that can't happen"–he reached out and grabbed her hands firmly in his own–"and it won't. Okay?"
He searched her eyes for understanding and found himself pleading for her to understand, but when she sent her eyes downcast in doubt, he felt his walls crumbling down. She wasn't reassured by his words as he hoped she would, and he didn't blame her. He had a past that wasn't too pretty, but the past made him who he was and drove him to her, so there was nothing in the world he'd trade to do it all over. Because if it weren't for all the mistakes he had done in the past before meeting Clary, he would've never kept on the lookout for her in the first place. But how could he say all that without making things sound much worse than they were–and they weren't that good to start with.
Finally, she looked up at him and when their eyes locked, he saw determination in them. He just hoped it was determination set for the right intention. "Jace…your past…well, it's your past. I understand you've changed, but I-I need to know. Just be honest with me, I'll try not to get upset."
"It won't make you any happier," he said through clenched teeth. How could he get it through her head that she should just stop while she can, because it really wasn't worth it? Sometimes, he admired Clary for her persistence, but when it was being used for the wrong reasons, it was her Achilles tendon–her weakness. "But if you're so adamant on knowing the number, then I'll be honest with you: I don't know."
"You…you don't know?" Clary was visibly shaking with anger and Jace felt whatever shred of patience he had left in him shrivel up and die.
"You told me you wanted the truth," he spat. "And that's the truth, okay? I. Don't. Know. I lost count because I moved around a lot and as a result, I just didn't keep to serious relationships. I figured life was too short for a commitment since I was never committed to anything before. But this was all before I met you, Clary. That was who I was, and this is who I am. I'm not proud of what I did, you must understand that, but if I didn't do what I did, I wouldn't have met you. So I'm not proud, but I don't regret anything. Okay? Are you satisfied now?"
Jace took a deep breath to steady himself and looked down at their entwined hands. His were a soft gold, hers were almost porcelain; they were opposites, but couldn't be more alike. Sighing, he pulled her closer and she obeyed, rolling up into a ball in his lap. She said nothing, just whimpered as he shrugged off his button down flannel t-shirt and shoved her arms into the sleeves. Then after the shirt was adjusted so it covered most of her outfit, he pulled her as close as he could and said nothing as he rubbed her back and brushed her hair out of her face as he kissed her nonstop.
Present day, the night of the gig at the Fairchild Residency…
After the gig, the band went out for pizza to celebrate their first official gig. Of course, Jace and Clary got into a heated debate on who should pay the bill–Jace wanted to take the entire tab while Clary felt the band should pay for their own pizza–and wound up splitting it since Jace received an important phone call from Alec concerning the show and he couldn't continue the argument.
After that, the band went their separate ways, leaving Clary to feel very alone since her parents and Jonathan went out to dinner without her. So she took her time in the shower, scrubbing away her sweat as well as her stress, and then went on a scavenger hunt for a particular shirt to wear that she couldn't wear while her parents were home–a particular black-and-white flannel button down shirt.
Pulling it over her undershirt and buttoning it up to the top two buttons, Clary examined her reflection in the mirror. She stared for a solid minute before realizing her reflection had tears in its eyes and she blinked, only to see that the reflection's face was now tear stained.
God, she missed him. She missed the golden ocean waves that were his hair, the warmth of his liquid ocher eyes, the creases on the corners of his mouth whenever he smiled at her and the smell of his skin–vanilla, mint and just a bit of soap. The Jace she now faced was a ghost of the Jace she knew, the Jace she had lost herself in so even if she spent hours with this Jace, her old Jace was dead to her. And it was all her fault, because she didn't know how to appreciate things in life without a care in the world.
Swallowing against her tightened throat, Clary made a resolution with herself. "You can't avoid him," she said to her reflection. "He's your band manager now and you can't be mean to someone who's trying to help you. So here's the deal, Clary, and you better stick to it: from this point onwards, you're going to put your best foot out there and be as kind as humanly possible to him. And not because of what happened. You need to get over this because…because it isn't healthy. Okay?"
At this point, her voice was trembling as more tears threatened to spill over, but she didn't care. "You hear me? This will be the last time you will ever cry because of him. You need to let yourself heal–if not for yourself, for me. We need this, Clary. Please, just let it all go."
With a shaky breath, she let all her stresses go. After giving herself a hard look in the mirror, Clary snatched her phone from her bed and punched in the numbers that were permanently engraved into her mind. He answered on the second torturous ring.
"Hello?"
"It had nothing to do with you, and everything at the same time. I was so stressed out during senior year with college, with the crippling fear of not having the future I always dreamed of, the fear of failing everyone but more importantly, myself. And then you came into the picture. My biggest fear above all, the fear that shouldn't have existed in the first place, was losing you."
"Clary, breathe. I'm coming over, okay?"
Unable to hold it, she let out a shuddering breath and nodded. "Okay, Jace. Please…hurry."
Me: DUN DUN DUUUUNN!
Jace: I must say, I'm impressed by: a) your double update and b) your ability to bring back Clary's outfit that night into my mind.
Clary *blushing profusely*: Ugh, this again?
Simon: And the cherry tomato is back in the building!
*Clary hits Simon upside the head*
Jace: Don't be embarrassed; I enjoyed the prospect of seeing you-
*Clary hits Jace*
Izzy: If she's going to start being abusive, you can so count me out of these "end-of-the-chapter-teaser-chats" whatever they are.
Alec *shuddering*: Same here.
Eric: Can I come in?
Izzy *glancing at him suspiciously*: Suure...you can take my place.
Eric *glancing at Alec*: I'll take his place so we can BOTH be in this thing together, babe.
*Alec grimaces while I try to suppress my laughter and fail*
Me: Oh boy...
