Happy Easter if you celebrate! Happy Sunday if you don't. Either way, I hope you're all having a fantastic day.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Mortal Instruments.

-Clary Fray-

In the shower, I try to wash the feeling of him off of me. My body remembers him, and I can't scrub the recognition away. Grapefruit body wash isn't harsh enough to melt away the path his fingers took when they traced across my skin.

When I finally step out of the shower the mirror is thickly coated with a layer of steam, and water drips from my hair, racing warmly down my bare skin. I'm startled by the sound of knuckles hitting the wood of the door three times. "Clary?" Jace calls. "Are you okay in there?"

I sigh. I may have spent a ridiculous amount of time in the shower. "I'm fine." I yell back to him, but I'm not so sure that it sounded convincing. I towel off, and put on a grey t-shirt along with grey pajamas that have colorful elephants all over them. I yank a brush through my mess of hair, and put it back in a french braid to get it out of my way.

Jace is lounging on the bed. He didn't manage to find the time in his busy schedule to put on a shirt. He's only wearing navy blue pajamas that hang low on his hips. I guess the hour I spent in the shower wasn't long enough for him to get fully dressed. I move my eyes away, and sit on the window seat. His eyes follow me as I cross the room. I try to form some kind of thought - something to say to him, but there's nothing to say. He's looking right at me, and I just want my voice back.

Jace shakes his head, blond curls falling over golden eyes. "I'm trying really hard not to joke about it."

I close my eyes, painfully embarrassed. I'd hoped he wouldn't mention anything that just happened, but of course Jace can't pass up the opportunity. There are too many jokes to be made about having brought me to the big O. "Please don't." I request, half laying down on the window seat, propped up on my elbows. The cushion is thick and soft.

Jace's expression isn't anything other than blank when he says "Don't be embarrassed."

I lift both eyebrows as far as they'll go. "I'm pretty embarrassed."

"Why?" He asks.

"Mostly because we're talking about it." I tell him, shaking my head.

Jace frowns. "Well, if I have to..." he pauses, looking for the right word "fuck you, I think you should at least get something out of it." I'm mildly taken back that 'fuck you' is the way he chose to word it.

"How thoughtful." I mutter. "You know how to treat the ladies."

Jace chuckles. "You know that first hand."

I throw one of the decorative pillows from the window seat at him. "Don't be gross."

"I'm sorry." he apologizes, still smirking to himself. He throws the pillow back at me, and I let it fall to the floor after it smacks against my arm. His tawny eyes flick to my wrist, and he frowns again. "I hurt you." he says, his honey voice quavering.

I sit up, putting both hands in my lap. They're swollen, dark purple, and sore from where he held them. "Bruised wrists aren't really on the top of my worry list, Jace."

He nods. "Right, because I've hurt you in worse ways." I've never seen anyone look so sad, and I want to go to him, but I can't bring myself to get close to him. It's strange that he seems to be the one who needs comforting, and it's hard to remember that none of this is his fault. And he's been here for a lot longer, going through worse things than I am.

"It doesn't matter." I lie.

"It does matter, Clary." He sits up swiftly, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed. "Why can't you just be mad at me? Yell at me, and tell me how truly disgusting I am to you." His voice is on edge, but his face is relaxed in a neutral expression.

"Because it isn't your fault." I say quietly. "And I don't think I can be mat at you. I've tried." I move away from the window, sitting on the edge of the bed with my legs crossed.

"Stop acting like this doesn't hurt you." He spits. I hadn't realized that I was acting like it doesn't hurt me. I'm just trying to be strong. "I see the way you cringe any time I get near you. Don't pretend I haven't caused you to be terrified of men-"

"I'm not terrified of men." I interrupt. "I'm terrified of you." I didn't mean to say it.

For a moment, he just stares at me. I can see a small image of myself in his eyes, being reflected back at me. He nods. "I'm sorry." He whispers, because it's the only thing to say, and it won't change anything.

"No." I respond. "I'm sorry. I'm not like you. I can't turn things that hurt me into a joke. I can't just Jace my way through difficult situations." I sigh.

Jace smiles. "Did you just use my name as a verb?"

I laugh, despite myself and the sad pressure on my chest lightens a little. My hardened heart begins to soften. "It seemed to fit." I answer, finally. "Are we done fighting?"

He ducks his chin, keeping his eyes on me, sort of like when someone looks at you over the brim of their glasses. But Jace doesn't wear glasses, and the facial expression looks good on him. "Yeah, we're done fighting." He looks like he is going to say something else, but decides against it. "Let's go watch a movie. I'll even let you choose."

I force a smile. "I'm going to choose something you'll hate if you let me pick."

Jace chuckles. "I'll suffer in silence. Scouts honor."

"That doesn't make sense." I point out. "You aren't a scout."

"I'll swear by them anyways."

I have a question. A lot of you have asked about their files, wondering what's in them. I was thinking about writing out everyone's files, and posting them as a one shot. Just for the hell of it. It won't interfere with updating this story. Is that something you guys would be interested in? Let me know.

See you Wednesday.

-IWriteNaked