If you need a friend,
Don't look to a stranger,
You know in the end,
I'll always be there.
And when you're in doubt,
And when you're in danger,
Take a look all around,
And I'll be there.
The Promise, New Found Glory
Clary
As embarrassing as it is, the New York Institute is the first one that I've ever been to. It goes without saying that I was completely awed by the cavernous halls lined with aged wood and carpet, as well as the beautiful style of gothic architecture. But as Jace took me on a tour through the palace of an Institute, nothing compared to the grandeur of the library.
It was a room of three stories, with spiral staircases that went up to the landings and ladders on rolling tracks so that the books could be easily reached. The floors were stone and the walls a dark wood, both smoothed with time and wear. A massive cherry wood desk sat at the back of the room with loose-leaf papers scattered across the top, and a portrait of the Angel Raziel hung on the wall behind it depicting his rise from the Lake, holding the Mortal Cup and Sword.
When Jace led me further into the room, I heard the quiet murmur of someone talking, but nobody else was in the room as far as I could see.
"Maryse," Jace called, not too quiet, but soft enough as to disrupt 'Maryse's' phone call. When he called the name, a woman shot up out of the tall-backed swivel chair behind the desk with a hand held to her chest in surprise. The woman was older, probably about 40 or so, with long dark hair similar to Isabelle's and piercing blue eyes like Alec's. 'You gave me a fright,' she mouthed to Jace with her hand still clutched to her chest. You gave me a fright? Who even says that? She murmurs something into the phone and then hangs up and sets the phone back in its cradle.
"Jace," she says with motherly affection. Now I see why she used the choice of words. Her accent was light, but the lilt of her speech was undeniably one of a native of Alicante, and very similar to that of an English accent. She smiled politely when her eyes landed on me and flashed in surprise; I get that a lot- everyone knows who my parents were. "This must be Clarissa."
We walk until we are standing in front of the desk, just across from Maryse. She offers her hand, and I shake it firmly like I was taught as a child. My father always said that a strong handshake makes for a good first impression.
"Just Clary," I say and smile in return to hers. She seems very kind and nurturing, and a pang of sadness pierces my heart like an arrow at the reminder of my own mother. Thank the Angel that Jace finds a way to make himself the center of attention- I never thought that I'd say that.
"Well, enough about Clary," he announces loudly. "We should talk about me! I'm sure that I'm a tad bit more interesting." He smirks and nudges me playfully while Maryse gapes at him in astonishment.
"Jace Lightwood, I know that I raised you better than that!" Maryse screeches at him. I cough out a laugh at her response because Jace seems like the kind of person who makes his presence known. If she is his mother, you'd think that she would expect such a comment. Jace and Maryse look at me, both with a smile on their face; Jace's being loose and goofy while Maryse's is small and reserved, but still kind.
"I'm going to finish giving Clary a tour, so we'll see you later," Jace says while running a hand through his already messy blonde hair. Maryse clucks her tongue at him disapprovingly, but the light smile still remains on her lips as she crosses her arms.
"Will you both be around for dinner?" she asks and looks between Jace and I. I glance over to him, ready to let him answer. I don't want to intrude on their evening, but Jace doesn't seem to care. He looks at me with a raised eyebrow and a mischievous look in his eyes, leaving me hanging.
"Sure," I say unsurely to Maryse.
"Well then, I'll be sure to keep Isabelle out of the kitchen." Jace lets out a chuckle at her comment and turns towards the entrance of the library. He looks back at me and grabs my hand, leading me out.
The second his hand touches my hand, I pull it away immediately, but not for the fact that he so blatantly grabbed my hand. I retracted because when his strong, calloused hand enveloped mine, it gave me a small rush. Not like in books where a single touch zaps them with instant attraction, but I felt something. Just enough to speed my heart up by a beat or two and enough to cause a blush to appear on my cheeks- though just about anything can make me blush.
Jace looks at me in confusion, but I avoid his gaze and walk ahead of him out of the library. His footsteps sound behind me and then he is by my side, looking down on me inquisitively.
"You okay, short-stuff?" he asks. I scoff and stop mid-stride, catching him off guard.
"Seriously?" I say flippantly as he back-tracks. "Don't call me that."
"Easy, easy. I didn't mean anything by it, Clary," he says with his hands held up in surrender. I sigh and shake my head.
"Where to next?" I ask, trying to put my annoyance behind me. Apparently, Jace doesn't want that.
"What's up with you?" he asks and leans up against the wall, facing me. "You seem really on edge. Wanna talk?" He raises both his brows in genuine interest. Why would he even care? He's too immersed in himself to honestly care about how I'm feeling today. Or any day for that matter, since I hardly know him.
"I'm just having an off day, and your cocky attitude doesn't help anything," I say sharply. Except I'm not really having an off day, Jace is just annoying me.
"Hm, well I just might have a solution for that."
"And that would be?" I trail off, not quite sure where this conversation is heading.
"A kiss from yours truly, what else?" he gestures up and down his body with his hands. I can't help but to laugh at the proposal.
"Yeah, in your dreams, Lightwood," I chuckle and crack my knuckles out of habit.
"Itching to punch something?" he asks and stands upright from his stance leaning on the wall and starts walking down the hall, leaving me no choice but to follow.
"Maybe your pretty-boy face," I mutter, but he catches it like a cat hears the slightest of rustles. Jace slings his arm over my shoulder and pulls me to his side amiably.
"So you admit that you think I'm pretty!" Of course he chooses to linger on one little thing. I playfully shove him in the side so that he drops his arm from my shoulders. Through an open archway, I see a large room with high rafter ceilings and training mats strewn around, so I find my escape quickly.
"Oh look, we're here!" I use the same words as he did earlier when he tried to cover up his absent-minded word slip. He was so deep in thought that he spoke whatever he was thinking about out loud. I darted into the training room before he could reply.
Jace POV
Women, I shake my head as I follow Clary into the training room. They're always so moody and sensitive. Like a landmine.
"Five bucks says I can take you down within five minutes," Clary calls as she brushes her hand lovingly along the blade of a katana sword. I study her as she picks it up and weighs it in her hand, reading the sword like someone who knows what they're doing; someone who has had immense amounts of training. The way her eyes glint in excitement as she looks at the blade makes me admire her that much more. A woman who knows how to handle sharp objects, with skill and precision, is hot.
"You're on," I say and walk towards her. She hands me the sword, handle first, and shrugs out of her tan cotton sweater, causing her loose white Nirvana t-shirt to fall off of one shoulder, exposing a bra strap. I smirk at her but she rolls her eyes and rotates her shoulders in a stretch before picking up a different katana.
"Ready when you are, Goldilocks," Clary grins wickedly as she settles down into a defensive stance with her feet apart and both hands evenly splayed on the blade. Her posture suggests that she is all defense and no offense, but the subtlest of movements give away her game plan. A twitch of her wrist, the way she discreetly angled her body, they all suggest that she is not what she seems.
But, when she makes the first move, I am a bit shocked. She lunges forward and brings her sword down in an arc that I easily deflect before going at it again, this time in a sideways arc. Clary's moves are elegant and lithe, like a wild cat hunting its prey.
When her eyes meet mine, I almost lose it. The luminous green color of her eyes capture mine and hold them, filling my vision with a mix of red curls and eyes as green as freshly cut grass. Suddenly my palms feel dampened with sweat, but I know I haven't really broken a sweat, not yet. This one small girl is making me nervous, and I don't like it.
Yes I do, my mind tells me, but I shake it off before I get skewered by the little red-head in question. Well, I do like a challenge; this is just one that I'm not used to. The only challenges I'm used to come from the slutty girls who act like they don't want to take me home with them. We all know they'd kill to get in my pants, so it's not really a challenge.
Clary's different in every single way. She's down to earth, witty, and drop-dead gorgeous. Not hot or sexy- though she is in those jeans- but Clary is beautiful in a practical, elegant, dorky way. I never thought I'd like a girl like that, but here we are.
Clary's annoyed groan of frustration brings me back to the present. She has her katana point-down in one hand, and the other propped on her hip in annoyance. She gives me a death glare, making me smile slightly at how cute she looks when she does that.
"Are we going to do this, or not?" she says and gestures to our unused blades. I roll my eyes and poise my sword for defense. "I wouldn't feel right attacking you when you're oh so obviously lost in the clouds. Might chop an arm off," she laughs lightly, and her eyes tell me that she is not truly annoyed, just in need of a good rally. I can do that.
Light on my feet, I lunge forward and she jumps out of the way while keeping her sword at the ready. She frowns as she swings her arms over her head and down, clashing into my blade, and surprisingly, sending it flying to clatter at her feet.
"Whoever taught you how to use a katana wasn't very good. You're lunging like we're fencing. You need to keep your swings wide," she says as she wrinkles her nose.
"Yeah, well what makes you think that you're so good?" I ask in annoyance and snatch my sword back up.
"Besides the fact that I just disarmed you in thirty seconds? I was trained by Valentine Morgenstern. Surely you've heard of him?" She saunters over to the sword rack, obviously not wanting to at least show me what I'm doing wrong, and places her katana up with the rest.
"No need to get snappy," I laugh happily and place mine back on the wall as well. From my stance, I can see Clary's profile as she gazes adoringly upon the dozens of swords on the wall. She loves the fight, as do I, but I've obviously disappointed her with my day dreaming. "How do you say we have another go?"
She turns on me and smiles widely whilst nodding, and I feel a rush at being able to make her smile, even by just offering to spar once more. For some reason, I feel like I have to live up to something, to prove myself to this girl whom I've just recently met. The odd thing is that I don't want to just have sex with her; this 'chase' is more than that primal human urge to procreate, it's much deeper.
Clary intrigues me. She is smart, funny, and mysterious and I want to know what makes her tick, what makes her laugh, and what makes her smile. I just have to know.
"You can pick this time," Clary calls over her shoulder as she walks along the wall and scrutinizes the weapons, searching for something specific. "Ah," she says when she comes to the daggers. "You can pick, but I want to throw some daggers later," she says with a smirk, something more lurking in her eyes as she balances one in her palm and looks up at me. She turns before I can decipher the odd look, but I reach around her and grab the knife out of her hand, brushing the soft skin of her neck as I go. She quickly pulls away, as if I shocked her, but I can see the deep blush when she turns to the side.
"We can throw daggers now I whisper in her ear, as I am still directly behind her. It has the desired effect; she laughs softly, not quite a giggle, but something like a content sound.
"No, I picked the katana's, you pick this time!" Clary insists stubbornly. I laugh and hand her a dagger before leading her to a practice target.
"I pick this, so deal with it." She groans and rolls her eyes as I aim my arm and let the dagger fly.
"You are one stubborn S-O-B," she sighs as she lines up with her target and tosses the dagger almost carelessly, hitting the red mark in the center. I stare with my eyebrows up. She didn't even aim. I could probably do that, but I always pay the utmost attention when handling sharp objects.
"You don't cuss, or what?" I ask as we continue to throw an arrangement of daggers, throwing knives, and tomahawks. She pushes a piece of hair back, but when it refuses to stay, she takes a band off of her wrist and runs her hands through her hair, mesmerizing me. I could even smell the sweet scent of mangos drifting from her hair as she lifted it up and wrapped into a ponytail.
"Or drink, or smoke," she says as she does her hair, then turns to me. "What are you smiling at?" she asks curiously with a faint smile tracing her lips.
"You're a very sheltered child, that's all," I feign indifference, but she makes a disbelieving noise in the back of her throat, almost like a huff.
"Whatever, if you grew up in the middle-of-freaking-nowhere-Idris, you would be too. No TV, no phones, no radio, and a very strict father." She trailed off on the end, looking down at the dagger in her hand with a grimace. In a blur, she stretches her hand back and hurls the dagger and it goes end over end before sinking deeply into the target.
"Damn," I mutter in shock. I walk up to the target to inspect the target, finding the serrated five inch knife sunk in over half way into the wood. I grab the handle and jiggle it out of the wood with some difficulty. "Remind me not to get on your shit list, okay?"
"You won't need reminding. You'll know, plus it takes a lot to get on my bad side," she says with a shrug.
"Who could get mad at me anyways?" I joke, but with much less sarcasm than normal.
"Oh Jace, I have no clue who could possibly be upset with you," the sarcasm is palpable, yet friendly and comfortable. It's nice to banter like this with someone. Alec and I are close, but we haven't talked much or just hunted together lately, and it's a bit disheartening that he's so distant. Then with Izzy, well, she's not very tolerable unless she has a weapon in her hand. Otherwise, everything coming out of her mouth is fashion-related and sure to put me to sleep.
I shrug and walk towards the back corner of the room, a brilliant idea hitting me. "Come over here, I want to show you something."
Clary POV
Jace grabs my hand and pulls me along with him when I don't immediately follow him, and this time I let him. He even looks back at me with a puzzled expression, like he expects me to drop his hand. I give him a small reassuring smile and follow him to the back wall. There are ladder rungs built into the wall and I see the shadowy rafters when I look up, and they seem to go up endlessly high. I take my stele out of my short boot and draw the night vision rune on me.
"If we're going up there, I don't want to slip and fall," I shrug at Jace's odd look. He rolls his eyes and holds out his forearm for me to mark. I step closer and gently hold my palm under his arm to steady it, and then slowly graze my stele into the swirling lines of the rune. When I finish, I brush my fingers over the tattoo-like black mark, like I always do after finishing a drawing, admiring my work. When I realize that I have been holding his arm too long, I drop it. My former clumsy side comes out when I drop my stele with his arm and I mentally face-palm myself. Smooth.
Jace instantly bends down to get it, so I just stand there like a bumbling idiot with one arm tucked under the other, while I chew on my nails. I mumble a quick apology and shove my stele into my boot, keeping my head down so Jace can't see my red face.
"Ladies first," he breathes with a smirk. By this time I have recovered and I quickly hop onto the first rung, and swiftly climb up the ladder and to the lowest rafter- which isn't really that low. Jace is beside me in seconds and seeing as how the ladder doesn't go up any further, he climbs smoothly up onto the next highest beam. "Here," he says as he crouches surely above me and holds a hand out to help me up. I take it and put my other hand on the beam and jump as he helps pull me up.
"Why are we up here again?" I ask with a wary glance at the ground that now seems like a hundred feet below, though it's probably only fifteen.
"Afraid of heights, Clarissa?" Jace asks in a snooty voice but his eyes reveal his true meaning, a chink in his armor, if you will. I roll my eyes and crouch to launch myself up to a beam a couple feet away. My hands slap onto the wood and I use my momentum to swing forward, and hop up easily when I come back. I straighten out and look back at me with a wicked grin.
"Need some help?" I ask sweetly and reach my hand out mockingly. He laughs sarcastically and we race from there, seeing who can get up higher, quicker. I'm small and quick, but he actually knew where he was going, so he naturally beat me. By a lot.
"I win!" he declares smugly when we reach the highest rafter stationed behind a small window, giving an amazing view of the streets below. The sun is swiftly setting and I sit down on the rafter, letting my legs dangle precariously. Jace copies my seating arrangement and leans back on the wide beam, his fingers millimeters from my own.
"You knew where you were going. Besides, I disarmed you so quickly you didn't notice till your katana went down- along with some of your pride, I believe." He grumbles something unintelligibly.
"So, what brings you to New York?" he asks curiously and glances at me. The drifting rays of warm orange light set off his eyes like diamonds, making it extremely hard to look away. The tawny gold of his eyes were full of questions, along with awe and something hard, like the walls similar to my own. I keep to myself, only letting superficial emotions flit through my eyes occasionally, but nothing deeper than that.
"Just drifting," I murmur and return my gaze to the tiny dots of mundanes going through their everyday routines, walking home from work, picking up a child from daycare, picking up food because they burned dinner; sometimes I wonder if it would be easier as a mundane. I would probably still have my parents, and I would be going to school and hanging out with friends and just relaxing.
The life of a shadowhunter leaves no time to relax. It is fast paced, and extremely dangerous. It takes up all of your time, and then some more; it's grueling and demanding, and if you're not strong enough, you will be crushed like an ant under your boot.
"Well how do you like it so far?" he asks, not pushing the first question for which I am extremely thankful.
"It's okay I guess," I lift one shoulder. "Crowded, but it's a nice change of scenery," I say with a heavy sigh. "Like I said earlier today, I miss Idris."
"Mhm," he hums quietly, lost in his own thoughts, so I let him mull over whatever it is he is thinking about while I attempt to capture the last rays of light in my mind, so I might go back and sketch it later tonight. "Are you going to stay here at the Institute?"
"Well, I've been staying at Luke's," I say, trailing off unsurely. He gives me a puppy-dog pout, his golden eyes widening, yet they still smolder, giving me butterflies and sending fire into the pit of my stomach. "I'll think about it," I laugh and pull out my rubber band to fluff out my hair and re-tie it. I rub my scalp in an attempt to relieve some pressure from the heavy weight of the knot that sits atop my head most days.
"Can I see that?" he asks curiously. I look at him with a smirk on my face, but I am honestly dumbfounded; has he never seen a rubber band before? Regardless, I hand it to him. He inspects it and stretches it with his fingers, causing me to snort at the concentration on his face. He raises an eyebrow at me, stretches it back from his thumb, and lets it fly into the rafters, out of sight.
"What was that for?" I burst out laughing at his odd actions. He smiles and reaches forward with a hand. I slightly move back, but he stops and smiles gently before tucking a stray curl behind my ear.
"You look beautiful with your hair down," he says quietly and leans back on his hands, staring into my eyes intently. My breath hitches at his words- I've never been complimented like that before. My hair is a frizzy mess, though.
"No, it's frizzy! And curly, and carrot-orange," I retort stubbornly and twist my hair up into a bun, securing it within its own confines smugly.
"Clary," he murmurs and shakes his head. He reaches up and plucks my hair out, making it fall down onto my shoulders and down my back once again. "Your hair is a brilliant shade of red, like that sunset we just watched. It's really soft," he picks up and rolls it around his finger. "Not to mention, it smells like mangos, my favorite fruit as it happens." He smiles and drops the curl with a sigh.
My face is red, I feel clammy, and he's so close that I can smell the fresh scent of his soap, along with the soft scent of cotton like freshly laundered clothes. I look down and the beam where our hands lay, and I see his slim fingers inch towards mine, and I also don't push him away when his hand covers mine, and the other comes up to my face. His finger gently prods my chin, so I have to lift my head to look at him.
"Don't you know that?" he asks breathlessly, as if he is just as fixated on me as I am on him, and in that moment, I feel amazing. Weightless, elated, happy. It's been a long time since I've been truly happy. I smile a small smile, and shrug my shoulder.
"You're the first to say anything that sweet to me. Thank you, Jace," I say and pull my hand from his, using it to lightly punch his shoulder. "You're not half bad yourself, ya know?"
"Now, that's the first someone's ever told me that," he chuckles deeply. I roll my eyes.
The more you get to know a person, the more attractive they become to you. Because everything you see on the inside of them, suddenly you are able to see on the outside of them.
Unknown
"Yeah, you just gotta get past that wall you have up. Under that, you're not bad at all."
"I could say the same for you!" he says with a friendly raised brow.
"Yeah yeah, I know. Hey, how 'bout this?" I say and turn sideways so that one of my legs is tucked under me and I am facing him. "Let me get to know you, put away the cocky façade for a bit; it pushes people away, Jace. And I'll do the same for you."
He nods his head slowly, thinking about the proposition. "I think you have yourself a deal," he announces with that big goofy grin that I've seen so much of today. It's usually an annoying smirk and holier-than-thou attitude, but today I've seen the genuine, real side of Jace, and I have no clue where we're going- be it just friends, or something more- but I don't want that happy grin to go away.