I am unsure if I should change the rating to M because of language and somewhat adult themes. The problem is that there will be NO CONTENT WORSE THAN IT IS RIGHT NOW so basically no lemons or lemonade. So what do you guys think. Is this story fine at T or is using the f-word pushing it too much? (Also letting you no that I don't actually cuss THIS much. Just imagining. Is the cursing a problems for rating? Should I use less to make it T? Also, I found a beta! Yay, right? So first of let me thank MIgirl923 for deciding to help me with my horrible mess of a story. It definitely needed edits. Hopefully, I will be able to fix the other chapters once I am done and life isn't hectic.
Letting you now that after January 2nd, I won't post for most likely two months or maybe longer due to personal reasons. That won't mean I am done with this story. I have a ton more to write and I am not even halfway done with this thing. I still have a lot more plot ideas.
Oh and by the way to the guest who asked what Jace said, trust me, it will be revealed later towards the end of the story. It was supposed to cut off from there.
...How does someone define love? I have this theory that everyone has their own definition of what it truly means. So I searched it up on the Internet. There is over forty definitions of it on alone. Number one: a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person. I been with many girls before and most likely threw out that word several times but I never once thought about my relationship being "profoundly tender". I guess there has been "passionate affection for another person" but I've never felt that beyond the physical aspect. Maybe I was gay as well because every relationship I've been in felt the same. I never felt butterflies in my stomach or lost my breath. I shouldn't say that I might be gay, though. If I were, I might have feelings for Alec, which I don't. I wanted him to be happy but I've never been attracted to him or any other boy so I guess I can rule the gay thing out.
I hate 's definition of what love is. It makes it seem completely fake and turns humans into a piece of meat. "Tender and "Affection". Maybe it's society's definition of love that is preventing me from actually feeling it? Maybe I wasn't meant to be one of those characters in those books or in the movies that meets a girl and falls completely head over heels for her. I mean, nowadays most relationship end in heartbreak or divorce, which is technically heartbreak as well. Look at my parents for example. My mother was completely crazy for Stephen, my father, and rushed to salver their relationship when he left. In doing so, she left me without any parent. Because of her, I am in pain.
Why push love? I won't feel it. Sometimes I have to check my pulse to make sure that my heart is still beating. That it is still there. I am scared that one day it won't be. Does this mean I have experienced heartbreak? From my unrequited love towards my mother? Couldn't I tell anyone about it? That I, Jace Lightwood was afraid of having his heart ripped out again when all I've ever done was rip out others. It is like the bully that bullies simply so they won't get bullied. That this person picks on others to make himself feel better but in the end it only makes him feel worse.
Maybe I am the bully? Who compensates his true feelings so others won't realize that he isn't as cool as he acts. Maybe I want to be in love, to feel love for someone without running away. All I know is that I am tired of being a dick.
"Profoundly tender affection"? What a lot of bullshit...
Shit. My pencil broke. How did starting my summer essay on Romeo and Juliet turn into a venting machine. The start was rather good though, as I talked about the sun vs. night motifs and why Romeo killed himself beyond the idea that he was in love with some girl he met less than a week ago and he though she killed herself. It was the fourth time I wrote this part but after the section where I must place my opinion on the definition of love, the essay turns into a diary entry. Teachers will say it is too personal and needs to be more professionalism. Of course they'd be pissed of that I'd cursed in it as well. I crumpled up the paper and threw it into the trash can. Why did the essay have to be talking about the stupidest topic? Why couldn't we write it in Macbeth and how much of an idiotic coward he was? Julius Caesar and how Brutus plotted to kill him for being a horrible dictator? I hate Shakespeare.
It was one o'clock in the morning and I couldn't sleep. All the while, drops of rain trickled down the window which certainly sucked in the middle of summer. I really didn't want to be sitting in my room writing an essay all day long.
Mrs. Lightwood was convinced that I had to do the essay now or I would never do it and then I would start of my senior year with a crappy grade already in my transcript. I was close to a scholarship for sports but my grades were getting in the way and Mrs. Lightwood said she would not pay for a bum who couldn't get into college.
Basically, I couldn't have fun until the dumb ass essay was done. But I couldn't write it at home with Alec snoring up a storm.
I grabbed my jacket and scribbled a note to the Lightwoods letting them know I was going to the coffee shop down the street to write and consume some caffeine. I used to spend all-day in that tiny shop when I was a freshman. Few people ever went there and back then girls were way too clingy. I would go there to hide and be myself. I would take Max with me and we'd just talk about life together. He ordered a hot chocolate and told me about how his bitchy third grade teacher would always take away his comic books because he wasn't paying attention in class. While I sipped on my black coffee, I told him about girls and the best way to talk to them. After Max died, I stopped going. Suddenly, girls went from annoying and demanding to sexy and pleasing. When I arrived at the shop, there was a couple in the corner making out who were all over each other that they were practically having sex. In the middle of the room, an old guy was sleeping with his face in a bowl of oatmeal, snoring louder than an alarm clock. Finally, furthest from the counter was some girl, sitting quietly while reading a book. I smiled at the cashier, Ben, who recently graduated from my High School and was once a good friend of mine before the accident.
"Look who's here. I would have thought you ODed if it weren't for all the constantly girls talking about you at school," he teased.
"Nah, I'm not suicidal, just busy. Can I have a caramel latte? I haven't had coffee in awhile. I need to build up my tolerance again."
Ben nodded and went to go prepare my drink when I turned around and looked more closely at the girl reading. She wore a black jacket with her hood up, covering her face. I wouldn't have known it was a girl if it weren't for her shoes. No man would ever wear knee-high boots like hers. She leaned over to take a sip of her coffee when a lock of her hair fell out of the hood, flashing her red hair. Shit. I'd recognize those locks anywhere. She turned to look at Ben, like she was waiting for something, and confirmed my suppositions. Clary Fray, makeup free, with headphones in her ears, holding Romeo and Juliet. She didn't seem to notice me at first but after realizing that Ben was making another drink for a customer, she moved to look right at me. Quickly she looked away and tried to continue her reading but judging how much she was fidgeting now, I knew she was secretly hoping I would leave her alone. I was a dick.
Of course after I received my drink and thanked Ben, I went and sat down across from her, laying my laptop on her table.
"What are you waiting for?" I asked her, taking a sip of my coffee. She was hesitant to answer me. She bit down on her lip before she tugged out a headphone, letting her eyes escape her book and fall on me. She lingered her stare a little longer before she spoke.
"What makes you believe I am waiting for something at one o'clock in the morning?"
"Your look towards Ben told me so," I told her nonchalantly.
"Breakfast. Ben said that he wouldn't turn on the grill until later and I am starving."
"Why don't you go home to eat?"
"Because I can't read at home. I get distracted too easily. You ask a lot of questions," she told me, moving to taking a sip of her coffee.
"Do I?"
"See," she smiled and paused to take out a bookmark to mark her place and put away her iPod, "Why are you here at one o'clock in the morning?"
"Why are you?" I turned her question back to her.
"You also like to answer questions with other questions. I told you why I am here already. I want to finish reading and I can't read at home."
"You didn't read Romeo and Juliet yet?"
"No I have but I wanted to read it again. Make sure I didn't miss anything for my essay." "Did you already finish it?"
"Seriously?" she laughed which caused the couple in the corner to stop kissing and give Clary a death stare before the girl grabbed the guy's hand and headed to the bathroom. Seriously, could they find no better place to do it? Clary laughed even harder at this and I prayed that she wouldn't wake up the old man. Finally she calmed down enough to finish her sentence.
"What is up with the questions? You always ask them but you never answer them?" "What would you like me to answer?" I asked.
"Why are you here?"
"Same reason as you except I have to finish the essay not the book. I can't sleep and I figured the sooner I finish this thing, the quicker I have Maryse off my back."
"Maryse?" she asked.
"Alec and Isabel's mom," I responded.
"You don't think of her as a mom," she stated plainly. I laughed.
"You make a lot of statements," I told her, taking a sip of my coffee. She smiled at me.
"I like you like this. You aren't annoying. It's like we are almost friends."
"I thought we were friends, Ginger. I am slightly offended now," I teased. "Shut up," she said. She put her elbow on the table and placed her face on her palm.
"See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek!" I quoted for her and moved to try and grab her face. She flinched and took her elbow of the table.
"Who knew he could quote Shakespeare?" she teased.
"It is the east, and Juliet is the sun."
"Dork, everyone knows that one," she told me.
"Nope."
"Yes, it is almost as bad as 'O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name. Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love'"
"Not a lot of people know the ending to that quote. Most girls just say 'O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?' and think it's incredibly romantic" I said overdramatizing the quote causing Clary to laugh. She mumbled something but I couldn't catch it so I pretended like it didn't matter.
"I thought you didn't want me to talk to you, Gingy?"
"Gingy?" she raised her eyes skeptically at my nickname and crossed her arms, "and I don't want you to. You kind of sat down here and interrupted me from reading, which was the whole point I was here."
"Well, my apologies, Miss. Please do continue. I promise I will be a good boy and write my essay, now," I said in a cheesy English accent. She smiled and shook her head subtly before picking up her book and continued reading. I took out my laptop and started writing again.
Love, a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend. Love isn't just physical or romantic. Love can come from anywhere. There are things that can keep someone from feeling the emotion, mainly lost love or insecurities or selfishness. But love is something difficult to avoid. In Romeo + Juliet, the two lovers let their love consume them and blind their judgment for all other things. There are two types of love. Reckless and simple. Reckless love I'd like the love of Romeo and Juliet. It causes stupid decisions and eventually will become poisonous. Edward and Bella in Twilight can be considered reckless love in the beginning. (Not that I've read that book) The girl would do anything to keep her vampire boyfriend and eventually jumps of a Clift and later turns into a vampire, similar to Juliet who stabs herself. Simple love is when there is respect and care for another person. It goes beyond sexual attraction and is the type of love in which the two love birds enjoy each other's presence unconditionally. It is gentler and more difficult to find. Yet if Romeo and Juliet did not let their beliefs in fate take over them, then they might have been alive to... "
I am done with my chapter," Clary said, interrupting my writing. She swiftly took a drink of my coffee, lips not too far from where mine were.
"So because you've completed your task, I have to stop mine?" I teased her, reaching for her coffee and taking a sip exactly where she has earlier. She looked at the cup for a little bit but she didn't say anything about me being out of line so I continued mocking her. "I don't believe that is fair, Little Red."
"What is with all of your nicknames? Do you not like my real name or something?"
"No, Clary is fine," I said, taking another drink of her coffee.
"I'm sorry I bothered you. If you like, you may continue writing. I was just about to go home anyways," she said smirking as she took another sip of my coffee, this time placing her lips completely on the place I had just put mine.
"Well, now I have to stop. I can't let you leave yet. That would make my late night coffee run suck completely. And who will I have to keep me company now? Ben is gone to the back room, it doesn't look like that old guy would wake up even if the world was falling apart, and I am pretty sure that couple having sex in the bathroom would only hate me even more if I decided to interrupt them again," I told her. I put away my laptop as she laughed at me, carelessly.
"Well, I guess I have to stay now. At least I will eventually get my breakfast," but clearly her stomach could not wait any longer because she reached in her bag and took out a granola bar.
"Can I have some?" I asked her. She stopped halfway through eating to stare at me, then shrugged, and handed me the bar. I took a big bite into it and handed it back to her.
"Hey! Who knows how long I will have to make that last!" she laughed, grabbing her bar back and held it like a baby. I smiled a carefree smile and threw my head back and laughed.
We talked until daylight. I asked her questions about Romeo and Juliet first and then I progressed into questions about herself. I found out that she has a brother seven years older than her that moved away to California the second he turned eighteen and doesn't call home anymore. Clary told me that she is kind of afraid that he might be a drug dealer now but then she laughed really dorky so I'm not so sure that was true or not. She told me about her mom being very jumpy and disorganized.
"My mom is like one of those single parents that need their child just to remind them to calm down and breathe. I swear that woman moves a mile a minute. I'm surprised that she ever gets a painting done," she had said. By then she finally had breakfast at the table and was switching from talking to stuffing her mouth. I also learned that she didn't have great manners. No surprise there.
"Paintings?" I asked her, hoping she'd answer before she went back to her breakfast. Luckily, she only had a bite of her bacon it wasn't so gross when she talked with her mouth full.
"My mom used to work for this big fancy business but she hated being in offices and the bitchy people who worked there. So I went home one day and she thrown out all of the paperwork and pinchy skirts and created her studio. She is a really great artist when she puts her mind to it. She recently sold one of her paintings for thirty grand. But she says that we aren't allowed to spend it on stupid things but I know that afterwards she went to the store and bought five pairs of shoes, so..." she took a bite into her pancakes.
"Sounds to me, she's like a child in an adult body."
"Humhmm..."
After that I knew I had to wait to get anything more out of her. She wasn't lying about how hungry she was. For me Clary was like one big puzzle I was itching to put together. I tried to convince myself that this was because I wanted her to fall for me so I could continue to screw girls again but truth was that I liked talking to her. She was quirky and strangely understood me. After she finished eating, she beat me to the race of questions. She started pounded them out one by one. First she asked simple ones like my favorite color, food, animal, etc. From there she started getting more personal like my feelings towards my adoptive family and my relationships with girls.
"Why don't you just ask me what you're wondering?" I told her.
"Which is?" she responded.
"How many girls I've slept with." Her face turned a bright red color, causing her to quickly look away.
"That is ridiculously personal and none of my business."
"It's ok. I haven't actually slept with that many girls. The girls mostly like to tell people they've slept with me and I am too lazy to deny the rumors," I told her. She mumbled again.
"Why do you have an apartment then?" she asked me. I raised her eyebrows at her as if to ask how she knew that. "Izzy told me," she said quickly in response. Of course my sister would say that. Probably to warn Clary not to get messed up with me. Typical Izzy, always getting involved.
"I mostly smoke weed there."
"You! You smoke! That is so gross? How have you gotten any girls in your apartment if it smells like a dead skunk in there all the time?"
"First of, it doesn't smell like skunk. Second, you'd be surprised how many girls get turned on by the bad boy who smokes," I teased her. "Jace," she paused saying my name perfectly clear, "you turned the art room into a swimming pool this year. You don't need help on the bad boy aspect." I looked at her for a little bit as she waited for my approval. Eventually, I couldn't hold it in anymore and laughed. She looked relieved as she joined in. Did she think she said something wrong?
Her phone buzzed.
She didn't look at it.
"Jace?" she asked, "Why do you refuse to let anyone in?"
Her phone continued to buzz.
It finally stopped.
She sat there waiting for my answer when it buzzed again.
And again.
"Would you please pick that up?" I told her, impatiently. She looked at me blankly as she grabbed the phone.
"Isabel?"
Beat.
"No, I am getting coffee."
Beat.
"Yes, what do you want?"
Beat.
"Yeah see you soon. Bye, Iz."
She hung up the phone. "I have to order Izzy some coffee and go now. She wants me to meet her at your house."
"She is desperate now. I heard that Aline and her are currently in a fight right Looks like she wants you by her side 24/7 now," I stood up, "I'll walk you there."
She ordered the coffee and then we headed out. We didn't talk much as we walked. Once she turned to me and asked about my essay. I told her that I had written the beginning well but once I had to express my own opinion on the story, I had trouble finding the right words. I was surprised when she didn't comment on that. That she didn't mention that I couldn't express my opinion because I was incapable of feeling love. I slightly had hope that she had talked about it and, at the same time, I was glad she hadn't. I wasn't sure if I was ready to discuss things that personal right now. We reach the front door and I hoped she would just walk in. Of course she turned around and said "I had fun. You aren't so bad when you aren't being a douche bag." She laughed. "You are surprisingly a good friend, Jace."
Love, an intense feeling of deep affection...