Hey you guys! Thanks soooooo much for all of the follows/faves/reviews/reads! You are so awesome!
So, my reason for being M.I.A. ...i don't really have a good one so i just won't give ya one...i guess?
But seriously, I'm sorry for the wait and i would probably hate me if i were you guys so...sorry.
But here's Chapter 10! You will find out some info on Jace...
Hope you like it!
I do not own any character...
There was a knock on Clary's apartment door.
She grabbed the other earring from her dresser and put it on as she walked down the small hallway. When she made it to the door, she paused a moment before swinging it open to reveal an extremely good looking Jace.
He was wearing dark jeans that hung deliciously low on his hips and were tucked into a worn out pair of Converse. A black leather jacket was over top of a striped t-shirt, and his golden hair was messy—just as she liked it.
Clary almost felt embarrassed as she stood their in her jeans and hoodie. She felt as if she should dress up for the occasion. She had been meaning to change, but Jace had shown up early.
She let him into her apartment.
"I'm going to change my clothes," she told him.
He grabbed her arm as she went to turn. "You look perfect," he said to her. "We're not going to a fancy place anyway."
Clary blushed. "Okay," she said. "Just let me grab my jacket and bag."
She left, and when she returned, they headed out. Once they made it outside, Jace lead them to his car. Clary was still in awe at it but tried not to let it show on her face.
The door was opened for her and she slid into the passenger seat. Jace got in the other side, pausing to look at her. When she turned her head, however, he was no longer looking at her and was starting the car. She couldn't miss the slight tint to his cheeks though.
The city went by in a blur as they drove through. The dark of night allowed the lit up signs to shine brighter and more magnificently. Finally, they stopped in front of a quaint looking diner. A small, buzzing neon sign above the door read: Taki's.
"Taki's?" Clary asked.
Jace smiled. "This was my favorite place to go out with my family when I was little. My parents would take me here all the time. Like for my birthday or when I got straight A's." He paused. "I wanted to take you here."
Clary breathed out a laugh.
Jace's smile widened before it went away almost completely, his face taking on a less playful and more serious look. She noticed his eyes had darkened as he leaned toward her. One of his hands reached forward and rested on her neck, beckoning her to lean in as well. Of course, she gave in, bringing herself to him so that their noses bumped into each other.
Jace gazed at her under hooded eyes. With a breath of a laugh on his lips, he whispered, "Clary," and kissed her. And it wasn't the sort of kiss that ended in a hurry.
Clary kissed him harder, arms wrapping around his neck to bring him closer, closer. She twisted her hands into his hair and she felt him smile against her lips.
The feeling of euphoria was unworldly. How Clary felt when she was with Jace was inexplicable and she couldn't think of anything other than him in that moment. The world fell away and it was just the two of them. It was just the kissing and the touching and the emotionally charged movements. It was as if they were one, moving as one, breathing as one, living as one.
Clary's chest tightened and her stomach fluttered as Jace whispered sweet words to her in between stolen kisses.
To her, it seemed as though she was the only thing that was on Jace's mind, the only thing that ever mattered to him.
Clary gently tugged on Jace's hair, eliciting a groan from deep within his throat. Pleased, she did it again, giving her the same reaction. She was about to do it again when Jace's hand caught hers and he pulled away so their lips were just touching.
"You can't do that to me," he said in between small kisses.
Clary smirked. "Why not?"
"Because," he said, "you're just teasing me."
She laughed and kissed him long before saying, "Let's just eat."
"I want to know more about pilots, Jace. I want to know about flying and all that stuff."
Jace smiled at Clary across the table in the booth they were occupying. They had already been seated and served.
Jace pushed his food around on his plate mindlessly, chin resting on his hand, while he looked up at her. "What is it that you want to know about? Specifics."
"Oh, I don't know," she said. "Just tell me some stuff. I want to know about your job."
"I'm a pilot. I fly planes," he said blandly. She could tell he was trying to be smart.
"Well duh," she said. She pushed her plate to the side and rested her arms on the table. "You were interested in being a pilot from a young age, right? You said your father taught you how to fly?"
Jace stiffened. "Yeah," he said tightly. "My dad taught me."
"I bet he's really cool."
He averted his gaze, jaw tensed. "I suppose."
Clary sensed that he was uncomfortable with the topic but she wanted to probe. To see just what was up with him when she mentioned his father. "There's some bad blood between you two?" she asked.
Jace's eyes shot back to hers, emotion unreadable. "Not at all," he said shortly. "We hardly ever fought, we always got along."
He looked away again and Clary felt as if she'd insulted him.
She said hesitantly, "I'm sorry."
His eyes flicked to her, his head still turned, forced a small smile, and said, "Don't be."
She offered him a weak smile and focused on swirling her straw in her drink in front of her.
"You know what I'm most afraid of when I'm flying?"
Clary looked up. Jace wasn't looking at her. Instead he was, almost wistfully, watching out the window at what appeared to be a father and a son walking down the street. The young boy was walking proudly as he and his father conversed. Words couldn't be heard but he was obviously being congratulated on something.
"What's that?" Clary asked.
"Crashing," he replied, still not looking away from the father and son on the sidewalk outside. "I suppose it's a little obvious that I would be concerned about that sort of thing though." His eyes slid over to Clary and he caught her gaze.
"Don't most pilots pride themselves in saying that they will never crash? That they aren't afraid of it?"
Jace shook his head. "I don't think they aren't afraid of it, they just don't see it as likely of a problem as I do."
He paused but Clary felt that if she were to speak, she would be interrupting him, so she held her tongue.
"It's like every time I get into the pilot seat I think, 'This is it. I'm going to die. I'm going to kill all of these people.' But then I don't. I get everyone where they are supposed to be, safe and sound." He paused and looked out the window again. "I guess losing someone changes you."
Clary almost gasped out loud when it hit her. She felt like a jerk because she didn't see it sooner. "Your dad . . .?" She let her words hang because she didn't know how to finish the sentence without coming off like an idiot or ass.
He caught her gaze again and pursed his lips before saying tightly, flat, "My father is dead."
Michael Wayland was a pilot—the best, apparently. He started flying at a young age and kept at it until he made a career out of it. He even joined the Air Force for a short period of time before he settled down and got married. Jace's mother died in child birth, leaving Michael to raise a son by himself.
Starting when Jace was young, Jace's father would take him on short flights to get him acquainted with flying. Jace took to it very well and began bugging his father constantly to let him fly a plane. When he was three, he announced to his father that he was going to be a pilot. Michael just laughed but Jace was determined to make his dream come true.
By the time he was thirteen, he had convinced his father to let him fly. He knew how to fly; he knew what to do if something went wrong; he knew that he had it in him; so Michael finally gave in and let him take his Piper up in the air. One of the engine's ended up failing, but that didn't scare Jace away from flying. If anything, that first flight sparked a fire in him that no one would be able to extinguish.
When Jace was sixteen, his world turned upside down.
He came home from school one day to find his father waiting for him. He told Jace that he wanted to show him the barrel roll that he had been working on. He seemed really excited, and even proud, to show his son this. Jace found it strange but oddly endearing of his father.
They jumped in the car and headed to the field where they had their own place for storing his father's planes and their own landing/take off strip. Jace followed her father right up to his Piper aircraft and watched as he got in. He was told to wait outside, right by the door, and watch.
His father took flight and was off. For some time, Jace couldn't see where he'd flown to. Then he saw him coming back. Jace was excited to see what his father had to show him. He always thought barrel rolls were the bomb so if his father was showing him a better, more awesome way, he couldn't wait.
Eyes glued to the sky, Jace saw the wings on his father's aircraft begin to tilt. That's when he knew something was wrong. They tilted slightly, then returned to their previous place. That happened twice more before he heard a slight spluttering. The aircraft spun suddenly, violently, and for a moment, Jace thought his father had done the roll, but soon saw that he hadn't turned back completely. The aircraft was upside down and the wings were at a forty-five degree angle with the ground. It slowed considerably in speed.
Jace had been frozen. Nervous, scared, and downright horror-stricken. His mouth hung open slightly, eyes wide, and mind knowing. Knowing exactly what was happening. Knowing that he was going to witness it, not being able to look away.
His father's aircraft righted itself just as the engine died.
Jace's heart sunk.
Blood pounded in his ears.
His throat was too tight to let out the cry that welled in his lungs.
He watched, soundlessly, as his father's aircraft started its descent—its too slow crash landing.
Jace wanted to believe that his father could save himself, that the engine would start up again, but he couldn't. He just stood there and basically accepted the fate.
Time slowed and the plane looked like a feather floating gracefully down to earth.
Then it started back up and Jace heard a deafening crash, grinding and clashing of metal. There was a billowing cloud of dust from the ground and black smoke.
And then it was silent.
Jace fell to his knees and sobbed.
After they left the restaurant, Jace took Clary to her apartment. The whole way, it was dead silent. Clary didn't know what to say to Jace after he told her about his father. She felt like a complete dick for bringing it up—who would want to talk about their dead parent?
When he walked her to her door, she invited him in for coffee, even though they just got back from a diner. Clary just didn't want to end the night that way.
She walked into her 'living room' from the 'kitchen' (everything except her bedroom and bathroom were combined in her studio apartment) carrying two cups of black coffee. She handed one to Jace, who took it with a small nod of gratitude, before sitting down next to him, propping a leg up. She reached across Jace to grab the remote to the TV from the wooden stand and turned on a movie. It wasn't anything particularly interesting, but it was something to drown out the impossible silence that was enveloping her.
Jace peeked over at her. "Hmm," he said, almost to himself.
Clary turned and quirked an eyebrow. "What?"
"You drink black coffee," he stated simply.
She laughed lightly. "Yeah," she said. "That's how I like my cup of joe. Blacker than nighttime in the country."
The ghost of a smile played on Jace's lips. He took a sip from his cup. "Why did you invite me for coffee? We both drank coffee at Taki's."
She shrugged.
His eyes narrowed playfully, raising an eyebrow. "You wanted to have a hot make out session with me, didn't you?" he joked, a small laugh breaking through his facade.
Clary blushed. That had crossed her mind. She bit her lip. "No," she said, looking away. "Not at all."
Jace put his coffee down on the side table, which Clary eyed nervously. He leaned toward her slightly and the only words she could choke out were: "Use a coaster."
He looked at her confused. Pure confusion. "What?" he asked, lines creasing in his forehead.
Clary blushed even harder. She pointed behind Jace where his coffee sat. On the side table. Without a coaster.
He followed where she pointed and laughed. "I'm sorry," he said as he picked up his cup and placed it down onto a coaster. He looked at her. "Happy now?"
She smiled. "Not really."
"What is it now?"
"It's late, you're still here, I have to get to sleep, and I haven't gotten my goodnight kiss yet."
Jace's face fell. "Kicking me out, are ya?"
Clary batted her eyelashes. "Nope," she said sweetly, popping the 'P.' "Never."
He smiled a little and stood up, offering her his hand. She took it and was pulled into his arms. He just gazed at her in awe for a few moments before dipping his head and kissing her. It wasn't hot or urgent, it was just a kiss. Clary would have been perfectly content with kissing him for longer but he pulled away much to her dismay and walked to the door.
"Goodnight, Clary," he said as he opened the door. He didn't move though, he just stood there, eyes fixed on Clary. She noticed that they were darker than usual. Darker than they had been when they were kissing in the car before going into the diner.
Clary held her breath as she stood there, unsure of what was going to happen. It was like time froze for a moment. And when it started back up, she didn't know who moved first.
The door was slammed shut and Clary was being pressed against it, Jace's body flush with hers. He kissed her fiercely, intensely—so much different than how it was just moments ago. His hands ran down her sides and he hoisted her up, allowing her legs to wrap around his waist.
She twisted her fingers into his hair, and, remembering what happened in the car, she tugged on it gently. Jace groaned into her mouth, giving her the reaction she was hoping for. She did it again and he groaned, his hands running up her arms, resting on her neck. His lips moved from hers and he trailed blazing kisses on her jaw. He nipped at her ear before whispering, breath harsh and ragged, "So, we are on board for a hot make out session?"
Hmmm...yummy Jace... *looks around* Oh, hey guys! didn't see ya there *wipes away drool*
I couldn't really go any farther because they don't have sex...sorry if i upset anyone...they just kinda make out and then go to sleep. The next chapter will pick up the morning after.
But hey, let me know what you thought of the chapter, or as the story as a whole, or just tell me whatever is on your mind... lol
You guys should also check out my other Mortal Instruments stories, "Their Scars" and "The Most Dangerous Man." I just put up "The Most Dangerous Man" and I got a LOT of feedback on it so i'll be continuing it. I know where all of my stories are going and how they're getting there, it's just a matter of typing it out, ya know?
Oh! and one final thing before i go. It's Veteran's Day, or Remembrance Day as a lot of you might know it as. I just want say Thanks to all the service men and women in every country across the world. No matter where you are from, I have the greatest respect for you if you fight for your country and/or pay the ultimate sacrifice. It takes a lot of courage and bravery to do that and i salute you. If you can, remember to thank a veteran today and let them know that their service was and is appreciated.
Wow, i dragged on...Anyways...
Thanks soooo much for reading!