Update! Sorry it's short, college prep and packing has left me without inspiration. I hope you enjoy anyways!

Jace swirled the liquid around his clear glass, watching the amber drink creep up the sides and nearly spill over before falling back to the bottom. "Day drinking?" Clary grumbled as she emerged from the dungeon she'd been in nearly all day. Jace had visited her once or twice, each time bearing Advil and water, knowing that her hangover must have been killing her.

"Apple juice," he replied cheerfully, swallowing a gulp of the fruity drink. He pushed a similar glass in her direction, poising the jug of juice over it as if asking whether or not she wanted some. She nodded slowly, and Jace poured her a full glass, watching her carefully as she guzzled it all in one go. There were these things that he noticed about her, things that he would have never noticed about anyone else. He noticed the slight crinkles at the corners of her eyes when she smiled, the tiniest bob of her throat as she drank, the curve of a smile she was trying not to let escape. It was intoxicating and dizzying and ultimately confusing.

"Mmm, big time rockstar really was drinking juice." Jace rose an eyebrow in her direction, watching a ferocious blush creep onto her pale cheeks. He smirked, finishing his drink and setting the glass back onto the table with a small clunk. Clary leapt at the sudden noise, as if it had startled her. Jace watched her weary green eyes flick toward the door, before her tense shoulders relaxed.

Jace, surprising even himself, reached over and lifted her gaze to his with a finger under her chin. As expected, her eyes were tired, circled with purple bags. She'd tossed and turned beside Jace all night, breathing heavily in her sleep, a soft whimper escaping her mouth every so often. He'd have thought she was merely having a wet dream, had the look on her face not been one of pure horror. He was only able to help her sleep soundly by wrapping his strong arms around her, the squirming seeming to cease instantly as she settled into his embrace.

She was afraid. She'd told him that much, but she hadn't clued him in as to what. And why should she? They weren't friends. Hell, they were barely even acquaintances. Aside from polite conversation, they only really talked when Clary was too far gone to even remember. He wondered if she remembered begging him to be a model for a sketch, if she remembered the scars tearing across his chest. Did they disgust her? Did they scare her? What were the scars like in her eyes? What was he like in her eyes? In her deep, green, and soulful eyes. He just really wanted to know. He wanted to know why she'd drawn him like an avenging angel. Why she'd depicted him as so beautiful and powerful when all he felt was small and weak.

"Why are you afraid?" he asked slowly while all these thoughts bounced around in his head, his tone slow, each syllable annunciated perfectly. Her eyes widened fractionally, and he could almost hear her heart hammering in her chest. Her brought one finger up and ran it down the length of her cheek, finding himself in some sort of a trance. Her skin was electric against his, warm and buzzing with energy. He found that he couldn't not touch her. He wanted hold her, to press her body firmly against his and draw their lips together. He wanted to know what that would feel like, because right now, just the pad of his index finger against her soft, freckled cheek was driving him to insanity.

Stop, Jace, he growled internally, though his body didn't seem to want to listen. It was acting on its own accord as Clary's lips opened, forming a perfect pink pout, a confused crease forming between her eyes. You'll destroy her. That snapped him out of it, and he slowly eased Clary's face from his hands, watching her shake her head, refusing to answer his question. "Come on, Clary. I can't protect you if you don't tell me what you're afraid of." His heart nearly stopped in his chest as her emerald irises locked onto his, a shocked expression molding her features as his words sank in. Protect her. He had told her he wanted to protect her. And, although it was over 110% true, Jace wasn't exactly sure he wanted to tell her.

There was a rustle as he faced fell into her hands, the muscles of her back spasming with the heavy breaths she took to calm herself. "My ex-husband is stalking me." She whispered into the darkness her pale arms created, leaving Jace to wonder if he was supposed to have heard. Jace had known that Clary was married. Jonathon had proudly shown the wedding photos to everyone, showing them his sister with so much love and joy in his eyes that one would believe he'd actually been invited and hadn't just stolen the pictures off Facebook. The divorce, Jace had also known about. When Isabelle had contacted Jonathon, the way she did occasionally with updates on Clary, she'd told him that Sebastian had cheated on Clary, which had basically sent in her into a pit of alcoholic depression. Jace wondered if her recent heavy drinking had anything to do with Sebastian's surprise return.

Jace watched her frail body move with silent shiver, fear wracking her to her core. He couldn't watch someone break like this, not the way he'd watched his mother. He'd try to hug her, comfort her, but she'd just shove him away, telling him that it was all his fault, yelling at him until he'd retreat into the upstairs closet, shoving pillows up against his ears to drown out her sobs.

But, as he slid into the seat next to Clary and pulled her into his side, she welcomed the touch, seemed to revel in it as she buried her face into his shirt, her fingers twisting into the soft fabric. Hesitantly, he moved his hands up and down her back, murmuring soothingly into her ear as he let her tears soak into her shirt. "Don't worry, Clary. I won't let him touch you."

X.O.X.O.X

It wasn't until night fell and that Clary's head had been cleared of the intoxicating scent of Jace that she realized something. "Where is everyone?" She was sprawled out on the couch, her feet in Jace's lap as his thumbs worked wonders on the kinks Isabelle's heels had left permanently in her arches.

"Carousing the streets of Vegas, no doubt." Clary shot up at that notion, eyes moving to look out the windows, but the blinds were shut. "We're in Vegas?" Jace nodded, not looking up from her painted pink toenails as she shifted closer to him. "Why aren't you out there?" Jace shrugged, his fingers finally still against her skin.

"I wanted to make sure you were alright." Clary let the words sink in. Protect you. Make sure you were alright. Jace's words all day had been along those lines. Words specifically meant for her, not for another whore he planned to get with, not for a group conversation, but for her.

"Why?" she found herself asking, pushing herself up so that she was pressed into his side, his warmth seeping through her clothes, making it difficult to focus.

"Don't make me say it, Clary," Jace said, his voice low, pleading. She found his golden eyes trained on her face, flicking around as if to catch every minute change in her emotion, as if reading her expression would give away the words he was trying to convey.

"Say what?" she said stupidly, though she knew what he meant. This is what I get for caring, he'd said last night as he helped her home from the bar. Caring. He cared about her. It was a foreign feeling to actually have a man care about her like this. Sebastian always just wanted to show her off, to take advantage of her in the bedroom, to have her as a personal housemaid. Jace, though, was here rubbing her feet, consoling her about an ex-husband that never loved her, listening to her pitiful stories one after another, never judging her words. Why wouldn't he say it?

"I can't say it, Clary. I can't. I can't do that to you." His words confused her more by the minute. Why would him caring be such a bad thing? If anything, it would be a good thing. Maybe it could help her pull the fragments of her shattered life back together, to seal the cracks with light and love. Love. That was not something she'd intended to think about. Did she love Jace? She didn't think so, not yet. Could she love Jace? That…was entirely possible. She wrapped her fingers around his hands, leaning in so her forehead was pressed against his. She hadn't been dreaming, then. She had felt his arms cradle her last night as the nightmares shook her. She had heard his voice in her ear telling her that everything would be alright. Jace Herondale, the sought after rockstar and well-known womanizer cared about her. He just couldn't say it.

"It's okay, Jace," she whispered finally into the charged silence, watching his jaw clench and unclench with words that he wanted to, but for some reason couldn't say. "I understand." With that, she left him on the couch, returning to her bed and snuggling under the covers.

Review?

All My Love

~BallinBlonde21 (P.S. I'm not blonde anymore O.o)