My dear little broccolisđź’šđź’šđź’š
~ So I want to say something first ‼️Thank you to everyone for supporting me and all. I just want to tell you guys, I am usually not a person who lets anyone or anything bring me down, or get to me. 99% of the time, everything one would tell, or say to me would go right through me and not affect me. Mostly because I know who I am, and that it took me too long to be proud of who I am to let anyone make me feel bad about myself like that or for what I stand for. Just like I said, it was only very upsetting to receive 12 emails of pure negativity all at once when I was already having a bad day. That review took me at my 01%, so it upset me. But honestly, that very same night, I was already over it. It wasn't even about what that person said, it was mostly because of the bad timing. So yeah. Know that I've been writing as long as I can remember. I'm not pretending to be Shakespeare, but I am aspiring to become a write. What that person said did not make me stop writing. I don't think anyone could ever make me stop writing, even if they try very hard. If I write on this website, it's because I love writing. I do not get paid or anything for this; and if I didn't love writing I wouldn't post anything on this website and I would only focus on my novels. So yeah, just a little break to myself; but still I love you all guys, and I cannot thank you enough for the support you gave me. You are all amazing broccolis.‼️
~ Now, that being said, I am sorry for having taken so long to update. I have a little less time for Fanfic, lately. So updates won't be as regular as before. I will try to always update at least one story a week, and will use Road Trippin' as a mean to tell all the guest reviewers which story I updated wishing the week.
~ And see, this chapter is fairly long to make up for the long wait.
Love, Minađź’šđź’šđź’š
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Chapter 10: What Is This (11,9K)
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Clary's PoV.
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The Hall of Mountain King — Apocalyptica (you have to know this one to picture the scene)
Gasolina — Daddy Yankee
A French song, I'm not saying the title because I'm evil, and I don't want you to google the lyrics. :P
Mordred's Lullaby — by Heather Dale
Tainted Love — Marylyn Manson (you really have to know this one too to picture the scene)
Don't cha — Pussycat Dolls
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We're watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy, and I can't help but think that I should have insisted on another movie. Because I know I'm stuck on watching the Fellowship of the Ring all over again later this week. Jon gave me tickets to go see the movie playing live with an orchestra, saying that it was a surprise that he had been planning for Pixie, and that he didn't want her to go alone since he was going away.
It's so funny to watch Pixie as she watches the movies. She's so into them. She even gives me the director's cut as she tells me all the little secrets of the movies. Like who was originally casted, or the first scene that was shot, or the difficulties of making a particular scene. It's like she made the movie herself, or something. But that's nothing compared to her rambling about the differences between the books and the movies. I swear, it's like she's from the freaking Shire. I'm sure she was a hobbit in another life.
At some point in the middle of the Two Towers I ask her, "So, let me guess. Your favourite character is sexy Legolas?"
"That useless elf? Are you out of your stupid mind?" she scoffs with indignation. "My favourite character is Smaug! Plus he's way sexier than Legolas," she lightly adds, her eyes sparkling of delight as she mentions the dragon. I sadly shake my head and tell her with more accuracy, "I meant out of the characters who actually have an impact on the One Ring."
"Smaug has everything to do with the One Ring," she snaps at me, her eyes never leaving the screen as a flashback of Boromir and Faramir plays before us. "Without him, Bilbo would never have been hired as a burglar. So, he never would have found the One Ring. He never would have left it to Frodo. The Fellowship would never have been formed, and that's just from the good guy's point of view. From the bad guys, the One Ring would either never been found, thanks to sneaky Gollum, either. Or it would have been immediately found and Sauron would be ruling Middle Earth by now."
Geez, she really thought this through. She should probably major in Hobbits-arry if such things exists. Or she should invent that subject to teach it to people.
"Well, I still think he's a shitty dragon," I tease, and it looks like she's having an aneurysm. She sucks in a sharp breath of air, and she looks at me as if I just said that kittens and sharks would make cute babies. She studies my face, her movie completely forgotten, and it seems that she's internally debating on whether she should try to kill me or not.
But then, she sadly shakes her head and looks back at the screen as the men of Rohan are riding with a ranger, a dwarf and an elf, and she mumbles under her breath. "Stupid, stupid blond. I'm going to end up institutionalized before the end of the week with him by my side."
I chuckle and elbow her, eager to tease her even more. "Legolas is not stupid. And he's blond."
"Legolas belongs to a specie in extinction. He can't afford to be stupid," she points out, looking at me as if I am some five years old who needs to be taught everything. "Besides, when was the last time you saw a stupid elf?"
"So, if I tell you I'm part Elvish, will you consider admitting that I'm not that stupid?"
"You have two left feet, Jace. You are definitely not part Elvish. Maybe part Orc, or Goblin, but definitely not Elvish," she says with a victorious grin. I grin back, pointing my whole body as I say, "Goblin? Do you need glasses? Have you been paying attention at my body?"
"A queer Orc, then?" she playfully retorts, sticking her tongue out at me, and I tackle her on the couch to tickle her. Once again, she bursts in a silent laughter as soon as my fingers touch her sides, and so I quickly stop, not really eager to have a repeat of her almost dying on my arms.
We stay a moment like that, with me on her, as Gollum sings and happily kills a fish, and my eyes automatically fly to her lips, so I bluntly sit up, refocusing all my attention to the movie. Pixie sits up in a more natural movement, her green eyes on me for a moment. But then she focuses her attention on the screen, and when the second movie ends, she gets up to put the third one.
As she sits back next to me, I think of the kiss she gave me in the afternoon. It was just weird, and not the in the way that Pixie normally is, like doing the split while she's on the phone, or fixating on broccoli. It was just…weird. And even though I never expected her to kiss me, I kind of wanted her to do it again.
I don't really pay attention to the last movie, and, from the corner of my eye, I can see Pixie as she does everything in her power to fight against slumber which is pretty funny since she apparently knows the movie by heart. She mouths the words at the same time as the characters, and she even insists on watching the credits, but that's when she falls asleep like a baby.
I take her in my arms to bring her upstairs, because sleeping on the couch is not very good for her back—especially since she's a dancer, and all. But once there, I hesitate in taking her to her room or mine. I mean, I like the sensation of sleeping. And Pixie magically brings this to me. She even manages to soothe down my nightmares when I have them. I also like the feeling of her sleeping against me. So, I take her to my room, her head lolling against my chest like the small and delicate thing she is.
I lay her on my bed, and then go back to the door to close it, but at this moment, Valentine appears in the frame. His eyes automatically go to Pixie lying in my bed, sleeping and oblivious of her surrogate father looking at me with the conflict of making a scene or letting it go. Please, let it go. Turn away and shut the door.
"Jace? Can I talk to you for a second?" Valentine asks in retreat from the doorframe. He is so not letting it go. I follow him, wondering where he's actually standing. I mean, he didn't seem to mind Jon sleeping with Pixie, so what's his problem?
"I don't want to intervene in your lives as you experience it, but I won't let you use Clary to take your anger out, Jace. I don't want to know what's going on between the three of you, but I'd appreciate it very much if you don't play with her emotions. Clary is someone really fragile, and she doesn't need the troubles that you could put on her—especially not now."
I don't really reply, mostly because there's nothing to say, and I go back to my room, but instead of lying in my bed, I kneel and look at Pixie's peaceful face. What happened to her for everyone to think that she's so fragile? She's anything but fragile, even physically. She looks like a doll, but she has the strength of a bull and abs as hard as a rock. I felt them first hand.
Pixie is like a…vigilante. She makes me feel safe. Isn't it ironic and weird? That ridiculously small Pixie makes me feel safe when I'm taller and stronger than her. But she does. I feel safe to feel anything that I want to feel. I'm not afraid of being sad or angry about my parents. It's like she allows me to be myself around her.
I let my finger run along her arm, barely brushing her soft and milky skin. She really needs to eat some vitamins. She's so pale she's soon going to pass for a ghost. Pixie, the Devil/ghost/weird girl. Seriously, I should consider putting food inside of her, beside broccoli. I'm still staring at her when she stirs a little in her sleep, and her eyes slightly flutter open, before she frowns as she sees me looking at her with wide awake eyes.
"Jace?" She says with her sexy, hoarse voice full of sleep. I swear her voice is a fucking turn on in itself. I could get an instant boner just by hearing her voice hoarse like that. She props herself on her elbows and questions with incomprehension: "What are you doing on the floor?"
"You pushed me off," I tease because there is no way in Hell I'll tell her that I was creepily staring at her in her sleep. It's creepy as fuck to do so, and even more to admit doing it. Pixie grins of satisfaction and rolls to take as much space as her minuscule body will allow (which is actually nothing), and she beams. "Good."
I get up, scoffing, and effortlessly push her so I can lie in the bed beside her. As soon as I'm under the covers, Pixie snuggles against me and she murmurs, "You're so damn hot, Jace."
"I know. You don't need to remind me," I grin, and she slightly taps my chest. I chuckle because I know she can hit harder, and I wrap my arms around her. We stay silent for a while, and I think that she went back to sleep, but then out of nowhere she says, "I remember that day when ducks could talk."
"What?" She is insane, even when she's half asleep. Completely crazy. Who says that? Especially about ducks? Like those evil things aren't creepy enough, she has to wish that they could talk. She tilts her head up, before she lifts herself up and I can feel her staring down on me as she replies. "You'll have to learn to not pay attention to my incoherent rambling. You'll lose your sanity, otherwise."
"What a pair we make. I am turning you stupid, and you are turning me insane," I tease, and Pixie softly chuckles, making her curls caress my chest, teasingly tickling me. My hand trails her right arm on its own, all the way until I cup her face and I can feel her cheek burning in my palm.
"Tomorrow we're definitely staying at my place," she suddenly says, rolling onto her side and taking the covers with her. I frown. What did I do wrong to make her bluntly go away like that?
"You don't like it in here?" I ask, trying to understand the maze that is Pixie's brain and sitting up to stare at her. This girl is so confusing.
"I do. But I don't like you making me horny and not being able to do anything about it because mister M. is in the house," she grumbles, lying on her back and I move a strand of her wild hair away from her face. It's sad because the colour purple is starting to fade away. I liked her purple; she looked like she is from a cartoon.
"I make you horny?" I smirk as I place myself on her, my hand automatically flying to her thighs, trying to squirm under her shorts. I'd be lying if I'd say that she doesn't affect me too, but it's always good to know that I'm not the only one turned on, here.
She wraps her hand around my wrist when I get dangerously close to her core after unbuttoning her shorts, and she scowls. "You had me once, Jace. I'm not having sex again with mister M. in the house."
I try to retake possession of my hand, but like I said, Pixie is damn strong. So, I lean forward and kiss her collarbone, just on the spot I know she's extremely sensitive to. Her grip on my hand tightens considerably and I tell her, "You know, we don't need to have sex for me to help with your horniness."
I start sucking on her skin, fighting for the liberation of my hand, but Pixie quickly gets up, letting go of my hand and leaving the bed. I end up on my stomach, surprised by Pixie's swiftness, and when I turn my head to her, Pixie says, "I'll go in Jon's room."
"Why? Do you think I won't stop if you ask me to?" I reply because she makes it sound like I would rape her to satisfy my needs if she doesn't go away right now. I know we both know how screwed I am, but I'm still human. You know. I'm not that abominable.
"That's the thing. I'm not sure I'll ask you to. This morning proved well enough that I'm not really good at saying no to your magical fingers. Better safe than being caught."
I chuckle and lay back in the bed, locking my hands behind my head as I tell her: "I won't touch you as long as Valentine is around. Promise." Still, she doesn't hop back in the bed, so I tell her, "Please, stay. I need my teddybear." It's not so much that I crave for sleep. I slept enough for at least the next couple of weeks. It's just that I like having her beside me in my bed. I guess I'm in need of affection, or human contact, or whatever it is called.
Pixie debates with herself, and then she comes back into bed, and lay beside me, her little face turned to me as she says with a playful smile, "You must be very messed up to want to have sex with a teddy bear."
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I wake up to a phone buzzing somewhere on the floor, and I feel Pixie shuffle away from my arms, cursing about stupid blonds. Once she has the phone in her hand, she snuggles back against my chest and she picks up with a very warm and welcoming phrase: "You'd better be dying or in labour, you idiotic blond."
I hear Jon's muffled voice, and Pixie opens big goggling eyes at whatever he tells her. She tilts her head up to me and her eyes avert to look at the clock, so I do too. And it's freaking two in the afternoon! What happened to us?! I know we went to sleep late; it was around three in the morning when the trilogy ended, but still. How did we let a whole morning pass?
"You're excused," Pixie reluctantly concedes, and then she moves a little so her face is at the level of mine. "Hold on, I'm FaceTiming you."
And without so much as a warning, she switches her phone and our sleepy faces appear on the screen. Jon is waving at us, bathed in Nevadan sunlight and I nod to him making Pixie roll her eyes. She once pointed out that it was stupid, so I always do it when she's around, just to annoy her.
"How's your Mom? What's her future husband like?" Pixie asks with a bright smile and Jon grimaces, glancing around and scratching the back of his head. I take it that he's not very fond of his Mom's new beau.
"He's…not going to last long," Jon finishes, shaking his head sadly, and Pixie laughs. The both of them exchange a look that says more than their words, but I don't really know what they're telling one another. You know, I don't have that telepathy professor X thing in me.
"Is he hot?" Pixie asks after this brief silent conversation. Jon shrugs, his blue eyes on me as he answers. "He looks like James Dean, only older."
"Okay, I'm taking the next flight to Nevada!" Pixie squeals, and Jon and I both roll our eyes. Pixie can be so…Pixie sometimes.
"He has Hodor's personality, though," Jon warns with a snicker and Pixie shrugs, unimpressed by this new piece of information.
"I don't care." She lightly retorts. "You don't have sex with people for their personalities. Or I'd never had had sex with you, Jon!"
"That's hilarious, Clary," Jon sarcastically replies, his eyes shooting daggers at Pixie. She sticks her tongue to him (what a shocker), grinning, and Jon ads, "I think I'm going to stay longer in Nevada, after all."
"I don't mind. Jace is nicer than you. He lets me watch the Lord of the Rings without whining and he lets me eat broccoli without glaring at me," she says with a bright smile. Jon looks back at me with more intensity. His eyes look now like X-rays, and after two unending seconds, he points out, "That's because you didn't try to kill him with one."
"Once, Jon! It was forever ago! And you're still here, alive and annoying," Pixie exclaims and I turn my head to her, narrowing my eyes at the impossibility of what I just heard.
"How can you try to kill someone with broccoli?"
"The most armless weapons are the best. Didn't you ever watch the Horribly Slow Murder with the Extremely Inefficient Weapon?"
I shake my head and Pixie brings her hand to her mouth, gasping loudly in shock. It's like I just told her that I don't know who Hannibal Lector is.
"Jon, I have to go. I need to cultivate Jace! Then we can plot together and find an efficient way to kill you."
Jon chuckles and Pixie hangs up, throwing the phone away to snuggle back against me. I don't do anything, and she tilts her head up. "You know what time it is?"
"I'll never see a broccoli the same way, now," I tell her in the same time. I mean, really? She really did try to kill someone with broccoli. Who does that?
"Please, don't tell me you're going to fixate on that. I didn't even try killing you with one," she whines, and I don't point out that she did threaten to in the middle of sex. It's not that I'm holding the grudge or something. It's just that it was fucking weird!
I shrug so I don't have to promise not to tease her about it (because let's be honest, I am so going to tease her about it), and Pixie sits up to place herself on top of me. Once she's comfortably on my lap, she takes her top off and leans to sultrily whisper in my ear: "If it's Monday, and it's two in the afternoon, it means that no one is in the house."
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Pixie gave me the keys to her sports room where I really unleashed myself. Not that I really need exhaustion with all the sleep I managed to get, but…I'm feeling slightly confused. The thing is, I don't know what I'm confused about. So, I asked Pixie for the keys in order to ease this confusion, though, it's still here.
I've been staying at Pixie's for three days, and I kind of like the rhythm of life she has. She just lives. She doesn't care about schedules and stuff. It's funny to live with Pixie, actually. She does a lot of weird things. She always dances. Always, even when there's no music playing. She's always twirling around and trying to get me to dance with her, but she quickly gives up when she sees how useless I am at dancing.
So, when I enter her house as if it was mine, and hear the muffled sound of music coming from the basement, I follow it, knowing that I'll find her dancing. She is, on 'The Hall of the Mountain King'. It's not the usual classical version; this version is darker and more stressful somehow. It's full of cellos. I glance toward the radio and see an album of Apocalyptica, allowing me to understand that Pixie is dancing to a cover made by this band.
Pixie follows the notes, standing on her pointes. She's wearing a red tutu and a black ballerina corset. Her hair is completely wild, flying around. It's the moment of the famous notes that Disney so easily used in Fantasia, and Pixie just walks on her pointes to the rhythm of the cellos. But when the percussions start to get involved, she starts spinning on herself before falling on the peak of the music.
She graciously gets up, waving her arms one after another to the music, and as soon as the cellos start speeding, she spins on the pointe of her left leg, helping her spin with her right foot every three time laps.
The percussions get wild with the cellos, and Pixie changes her routine of spinning. She does demi-pointe and turns around and around, her hair flying in the air and her arms up in the air each at the time. Her face is expressing madness, as if something is trying to capture her, but all that captures me is her red tutu becoming a blur of red and her red hair forming a smoke of red around her head.
And finally, it's the final notes, and Pixie graciously falls on the floor, her legs crossed and her arms spread. Then she tilts her head up to me and smiles, getting up and jumping to me. Once she is next to me, she takes my hand with that rare smile that lights up her whole face, and I frown at her sudden enthusiasm. You never know what she can be up to.
"Let's dance," she says as reggeaton music starts…Gasolina, or something. As if I would ever try to move on that music. And what's with her playlist? How can she go from revisited classical to reggeaton, like that?
"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not a dancer?" I remind her as she puts herself in front of me and takes my hands to set them on her hips. I am definitely not a dancer, and even more so to this kind of music.
Pixie starts to rock her hips to the music, but I don't move, which makes scowl up at me. "Jace, how many times will I have to tell you that dancing is like fucking?" She has said this more than once, and she knows that I hate it when she does. Because it means that she's implying I'm not as good of a fuck as I could be if I was dancing. Thank God she never had sex with Jordan, or I'd be hearing about him 24/7.
"Could you dance to unfamiliar music?" I ask, planting my golden eyes in her green emeralds, in the hope that she'll say no and that I'll be free of her endlessly asking me to dance with her. She shrugs and points the radio to me, saying, "Go ahead."
I look for a song I am sure she won't know, and I take her hands in mines as I start to waltz. It's a French song from another generation, and I can tell by the way she frowns that she doesn't know it. I sing the song by heart, even though I never really tried to learn the lyrics.
Pixie actually leads the dance, her eyes closed as she feels the music. But I keep my eyes open, looking at her as I sing this completely inappropriate song. Her head gently rests on my chest as I keep singing the stupid French song, but I don't really think about the song. I only think of her against me, and on how I can actually feel her heart beating against my chest.
When the chorus comes in, she walks out of my arms, spinning and keeping one of her hands in mine, and so I help her spin again, and again before I take her back in my arms and enhance a second waltz together. We dance without really thinking about it—just listening to the music, and when the song is over, neither of us move or say anything for a while. Pixie is still in my arms, her green eyes now boring into mine, and after a few minutes, she asks in a low whisper: "What's the song about?"
"Passion," I say darkly, finally letting go of her and sitting on the floor.
She doesn't reply, and I keep my eyes closed as I can hear her moving around and suddenly I can feel that there's something warm in front of me. I open my eyes and look at her as she smiles down at me, a mug in her hands. She kneels and puts the drink in my hands, saying: "Hot cocoa is good against the blues."
I chuckle, and she removes a strand of hair from my face. I can feel her eyes on me, and I know what she wants to say. She wants to tell me that she's here if I want to talk about it, like everyone else always says, but she doesn't say that at all. She actually says, "If you look very closely, you have girl's eyelashes. That is unfair! Why are your eyelashes so damn long?!"
I look up to meet her eyes, seeing frank indignation in them and without knowing what takes over me, I lean forward to kiss her. She gasps, like every time she's surprised by my kisses, and I set the cocoa down on the floor, so I can cup her face with one hand and bring her closer to me with the other.
She nibbles on my lower lip, her hands flying into my hair. She tugs it, deepening our kiss, but then I stop the kiss as brusquely as I started it. She looks at me with incomprehension, but I look down, picking up the cup of hot chocolate to busy myself. She stares at me for a while before she gets up with a heave and says, "I'll be upstairs if you need anything. Probably taking a cold shower, or something."
She leaves the basement, just like that, as if I hadn't started the weirdest thing ever between us a few seconds ago. It's not that I wasn't willing to go further—I was more than willing. I like to fuck her. I like to hear her voice break when she whimpers under my touch. I like to see the way her irises dilate when she's reaching her peak. I'd actually really like to hear her moan my name.
And that's the problem. I shouldn't want that. I shouldn't care that she said Jon's name and not mine. I shouldn't be bothered by the fact that she never seems to completely let go with me. I shouldn't care that she won't let me go down on her. And…I shouldn't care that I'm always the one initiating kisses when we have sex. I really shouldn't care, at all. Like, I shouldn't be walking upstairs right now, looking for her.
I find her walking out of a room on the first floor, her towel in her hands. She looks up to me as I lean against her doorframe, and for a second I forget about everything else. I'm watching the inside of Pixie's room, and it's like I entered into the Shire. I swear that Peter Jackson made all his movies in her room.
The floor has a grass green carpet, and her bed looks like a hobbit's lair. The walls look like they're made out of a forest, and I swear I can see the shadow of Tom Bombadil lurking in those woods. On the shelves, besides the enormous amount of books, I can see figurines from Middle Earth. But before I could look any further into this room of wonder, my body is moving on its own accord, entering the room. Pixie curtly shuts the door.
I finally look back at her, realising that after three nights spent in her house, I've never seen Pixies's room. Her face is closed as she explains, "As much as I'm a very open person, my room remains closed. It's my room, and no one goes in. Not you, not Jon, not anyone."
I don't reply, as my eyes flicker back to her now closed door. There's something that caught my attention: a drawing that she probably did as a child of a man stabbing a woman in her heart, blood staining the whole picture. My hand fly to the paper as my eyes are mesmerised by this depiction of horror, and I ask with a blank tone: "Did you draw this?"
She slightly turns and shrugs as she sees which drawing I'm talking about. "Yup, and before you go shrink on me, I must warn you, I have broccoli in my fridge."
I don't even respond to her joke. I should, but I'm hypnotised by this drawing and its accuracy. It's like Pixie was there and drew the scene I witnessed. The woman's dress is the same colour as the one my mother was last wearing for Heaven's sake. I trace the outlines of the two characters, seeing as the life escapes the woman's eyes and madness takes over the man, and suddenly, I feel Pixie's hand on my shoulder, her voice echoing from afar.
I blink a little, looking away from that reproduction of my worst nightmare to stare at Pixie. She's looking at me with worry, and I can see her lips moving quickly, but I can't hear her because of the blood rushing in my ears. I can feel myself go into a more than welcomed darkness, willing me to escape this frightening moment, but suddenly, I'm brought back to the reality by a slap across my face.
I bring my hand to my cheek, staring at Pixie in shock. This girl should really try to stop slapping people around. It hurts like a bitch, but I'll never tell her that. Instead I ask, "What was that for?"
"Are you alright? Do you need sugar? When did you last eat? Did you work out too much? Maybe you should take a shower." She starts panicking, her hands testing if I have fever. I shake my head, fighting against the heaviness of my tongue, and she exclaims: "You're taking a shower, now. Your body feels like freaking Pompeii happened to you."
And without letting me talk, she takes my hand in hers and directs me toward her bathroom. She pushes me in the tub and starts the water while I'm still wearing my clothes. She gently sprays water on me, and finally I take composure of myself, and stop acting like a wussy. I wrap my hand around her wrist and stop her from fussing over me.
She looks at me, and stops me from saying anything as she utters, "Jace, you look so pale. Even I seem golden compared to you right now."
"Then, at least turn on the hot water," I grumble, and she gently chuckles. I look up at her, expecting her to ask me what the hell happened to me, but Pixie doesn't act like normal humans do. She hums a lullaby, her eyes fixated on my wet hair.
She's squatting on the other side of the tub, her head tilting every once in a while as she hums, and I recognise the the song. Mordred's Lullaby. How is this song gonna make me feel better?
"My father killed my Mom," I say, unable to stop myself. My hand reaches out for a lock of her redish-purple hair. Pixie stops singing and stares at me before she sits on her knees and cuts the water, saying with a gentle and careful voice, "You told me."
I swallow hard, and I finally do what I refused to do for the past several months. I open up, because I know Pixie won't say the stupid things I dread hearing. I know Pixie will listen without judgement, because she's my vigilante/teddy bear.
"My Mom was beautiful—stunningly beautiful, and she was equally kind. She was that perfect Mom everyone dreams of having. I was the lucky kid who got her, and my father loved her so much. That's why he killed her—because he loved her with passion. He accused her of having an affair with one of her book-club friends, which wasn't true. They would always fight about it, and one day he lost it, saying that the only way to make sure she wouldn't cheat was to make sure her heart would stay with him. So, he stabbed her in her chest to retrieve her heart, just as I was coming back from soccer. When he realised what he was doing, he looked up at me with demented eyes—the ones you only see in movies, and he plunged his knife in his stomach."
Pixie doesn't look away from me even once as I tell the awful story. She doesn't interrupt me. She doesn't even blink. She just listens, and I consider telling her that this excuse of a man is still alive, when she says the most ridiculous thing ever: "Did you forgive him?"
"Are you insane?" I yelp, looking at her as if she just slapped me again. Pixie doesn't even have the decency to look embarrassed by what she just said. She's calm as a tree when she asks, "Why?"
"He killed my Mom!" I cry out with indignation. Why does she have to be such a good Christian all of the sudden? "He killed her for something she never did, and the worst part is that he survived. He survived while my Mom didn't, and you want me to forget all of that and forgive him!?"
"I didn't say forget. I said forgive," she calmly utters, not even wavered by me shouting at her, and I open big goggling eyes at her. She is out of her mind if she thinks that such an act it forgivable.
"Did you forgive cancer for taking your Dad? Do you forgive Maia for ruining all your fun with Jordan?" I snarl at her, and finally her face shows something other than her disarming calm. Before I can analyse the new emotion that seems so out of place, she looks down and softly murmurs, "I…I forgave worse to people less deserving. Forgiveness will help you, not him. It will make the nightmares go away. It will help you move on. It will—"
"Shut up. It will do nothing. You don't know what it is. You never had to dread sleep because a monster will come haunt your dreams. You never had to be scared of walking somewhere in fear of seeing his face appear in front of you. You never had to survive." I snap at her, letting my anger and fears take the better of me. Pixie looks at me as if I just slapped her, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and I immediately regret my words. Apparently I hurt her even more than Maia did when she called Pixie an orphan. Slowly, Pixie gets up, swallowing hard and she leaves the bathroom, even though I tell her not to.
I curse loudly and pick up a towel to dry myself before wrapping it around my waist. I rush after her, taking her hand as she's descending the stairs.
"Pixie?" I say, hoping that she'll look up and smile like she always does, But she stubbornly keeps her face directed toward the floor. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"
"I don't want to talk about it, Jace," she cuts me off, curtly snapping her hand out of my own. The way she did it hurt more than when she slapped me. "If you want to dwell in your pain and self-pity, then do. I gave you the key to live. If you want stay in the state you're in, do. I've had enough."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get angry at—" I start apologising, but she snaps her head up, her eyes frighteningly dead as she replies:
"I told you, I don't want to talk about it. Figure it out on your own. You don't want my help, fine. You know better how to deal with monsters, okay. You like to stay in self-pity. Good for you! I can't fight your battles for you, Jace. You might think of me as a teddy bear, or a knight in shining armour to rescue you from your nightmares, but I'm just a girl. I can't take your pain away if you're not willing to let me," she says, her voice breaking a little at the end.
She looks down and for a second. I think she's crying, but then she snaps her head up, and the Pixie I know is back, smiling and sparkling with life. "I think I'll order from Taki's. I'm fucking starving and I want to eat the whole wide world."
She jumps downstairs, telling me to get dressed if I don't want her to abuse my 'stupid golden body'. I stay a moment, dumbfounded, before I slowly go back to the bathroom to put on some dry clothes. Once dressed, I go downstairs, and Pixie beams at me, saying that the food is on its way, and that she'll take a shower.
I slump on the couch, thinking of what happened. I know Pixie, and I know she won't make it weird between us, but I can't believe myself. I can't believe that I told her that much when I stubbornly stayed silent to the countless relatives and shrinks I've seen. It's scary to see that she can bring this out of me—that she can make me open up to her without even trying. It's scary, but at the same time it's nice. I mean, it's nice to have someone by your side that won't make a big deal out of what you think or feel. It's nice to have someone that will just let you be yourself.
Suddenly, I hear a Son of a Bitch, as her phone vibrates next to me. I frown, recognising Dean Winchester's catchphrase and I see Pixie's phone screen illuminating.
"Your phone just insulted me!" I yell. Pixie chuckles from upstairs as she yells back. "It's just a text, Jace. What's it say?"
I'm slightly taken back, because girls usually don't like people looking at their phones. You know, with all the secrets they have to keep. But I remind myself that it's Pixie we're talking about.
"Wolfie says to turn on MTV 'right fucking now'. His words," I read out loud, wondering who Wolfie is. Why does Pixie nicknames everyone? What's wrong with using someone's given name?
"Well, do it. You're not an alien; you know how to use a TV and a remote," Pixie yells from upstairs as if I'm a child who needs to be taught everything.
I smile and switch of the TV, only to see that the Graveyard Dolls are on stage. Seriously, girls go crazy about this band when they don't even do average music. They're more into rock/metal/I-don't-know-what-it-is. The leader is on the mike with that smirk he always has on his face. I think his name is Luke, or something, and girls are completely mad about him. Even girls my age, when he's old enough to be their dad. Go figure.
"This song is for a special someone. We know we have fans all over the world, but I can honestly say that she's our number one fan, and I know she'll appreciate this cover like nobody else," he says with a little wink to the camera, and the crowd (mostly composed of girls who make your ear bleed) cheers.
I roll my eyes because this sentence can actually apply to any girl in the whole wide world. He leaves the mike and places his bass on his shoulder before the synth plays three notes that make Pixie scream upstairs. "Waiiiiiiiiit!"
She tumbles downstairs, her eyes fixed on the screen as I take in that she's only wearing a bra and a skirt. It's the same skirt she wore when we went to see the Fellowship of the Ring on Tuesday, and that she jumped on me during the intermission.
"So you're one of those groupies," I say as proof that there are still some girl genes in her. I'm sad to say that Pixie is an average girl, after all.
"Shush!" she orders me, her eyes locked on the screen and her hands knotted. She's such a groupie right now. I roll my eyes, looking at the screen, and guess who's also on a screen behind the band? Pixie and Jordan! What the Hell?
Pixie is wearing a small white skirt and a small white shirt that reveals her stomach. Jordan is only wearing white trousers, and he's on all fours while Pixie rocks her hips right and left to the rhythm of the drums. He knocks the floor to the drums, his hands dirty with black dust. I swiftly look back to screen-Pixie and see that she also has this black dust on her hands.
The camera turns to the audience, screaming like the fangirls they are. I glance at real-life-Pixie, waiting for an explanation, but her eyes are still glued on the screen as her lips are slightly parted and her breath completely erratic.
I look back at the screen as the camera goes back to the band and the lead female singer takes the microphone before she starts the singing/growling that made her so famous.
Sometimes I feel I've got to run away. I've got to get away
From the pain that you drive into the heart of me
The camera goes back to the screen where Pixie and Jordan are dancing. It seems like she tried to get away, but Jordan prevented her from doing so by keeping her hand in his. Now he's yanking her toward him, and she wraps her left leg around his waist, her hands cupping his face and staining him with that black dust.
The love we share (Pixie is lip singing. I know she is because her voice is crystalline, not like the singer's. Jordan lets his hands fall to her hips.)
Seems to go nowhere (Jordan tries to kiss Pixie, but she tilts her head back, making her red hair fall, and I notice just now that it is completely straight.)
I've lost my lights (Pixie looks back to Jordan, feeling sorry, and leaning up to kiss him, but…)
I toss and turn I can't sleep at night (Jordan let's go of her and she twirls away from him, her hands caging her head as if she was losing it)
The camera goes back to the band, and the lead singer seems like she couldn't care less about the song. The musicians, though, are completely into their performance. I think a girl from my former school said something about the band being on the verge of breaking up, because the singer is starting to be a diva, but I'm not sure. It's not like I care about this band. I like their music when it plays on the radio, but that's it.
Once I ran to you. (I ran)
Now I'll run from you.
This tainted love you've given,
I give you all a girl could give you.
Take my tears and that's not nearly all (The camera goes back to Pixie and Jordan, and she's back in his arms. He lifts her up to make them spin as she keeps lip-singing.)
Tainted love.
Tainted love.
Now I know I've got to (Pixie and Jordan are in the position of a tango, which contrasts with the music, and they start dancing)
Run away. I've got to
Get away. (Each time Pixie tries to look away from Jordan he forbids her, and she finally lets go of his arms and lets herself fall backwards, but Jordan catches her)
You don't really want any more from me
To make things right (Pixie keeps lowering herself, before she swiftly gets up and,)
You need someone to hold you tight (wraps her arms around Jordan's neck)
You think love is to pray (She trails her hands from his nape to his face, and makes him believe that she'll kiss him, but)
I'm sorry I don't pray that way (she twirls away from him, as he ineffectively tries to catch her.)
Once I ran to you (I ran) (Pixie runs to Jordan, snuggling in his arms.)
Now I'll run from you (She spins away from him, but Jordan stops her spin and the stupid camera goes back to the band!)
This tainted love you've given
I give you all a girl could give you
Take my tears and that's not nearly all (The camera is finally back in them, and Pixie is up in Jordan's arms, above his head. Both of their bodies are completely tainted with that black dust.)
Tainted love (Pixie slowly slips away from Jordan, still in in his arms. He's still holding her, but she is sliding away, slowly falling to the floor, her head upside down and her back to his.)
Tainted love (She reaches her arms out and lands on the floor to lay there as Jordan swirls to face her. Then he bluntly lets himself fall on her, only to do a wave with his body on her at the last second. Well, apparently, he's as flexible as Pixie)
Don't touch me please (In one swift motion, Pixie makes them turn so she is on top of him, but once again, that stupid useless camera goes back to the band!)
I cannot stand the way you tease
I love you though you hurt me so
Now I'm going to pack my things and go
Touch me baby, tainted love (The camera is back on them, and I have no idea how they managed to get up. But now Jordan is behind Pixie, his face dangerously close to her neck, while all her red hair is on the other side of her face, and his hands all over her stomach)
Touch me baby, tainted love (Pixie closes her eyes and trails her hands up to Jordan's hair, clutching them as he's starting to wind up the little shirt she has)
Touch me baby, tainted love (She keeps lip-singing all along, and since now it's a scream more than anything, Pixie 'screams' and Jordan picks her up with his arms by her stomach, making her bend. But the camera goes back to the band, once again. I think I'm going to shoot the camera-man!)
Once I ran to you (I ran)
Now I'll run from you
This tainted love you've given
I give you all a girl could give you (Pixie messes with her hair like a mad person, stamping on herself, and)
Take my tears and that's not nearly all (Jordan picks her up in his arms to raise her above his head)
Tainted love (He makes her flip in the air so she is facing him now, and)
Tainted love (Pixie takes his face in her hands, wrapping her thin legs around his waist)
Tainted love (Jordan leans to kiss her, but Pixie leans backward, her hands still on Jordan's face as she lip sings the last lyrics to the camera.)
The video stops just as Jordan is about to kiss her neck. Then the camera goes back to the band while the crowd is endlessly cheering, and I am just staring blankly at the screen, because I am still stunned by their performance. They really know their shit. That Tango de Roxanne was nothing compare to what I've just seen.
To be honest, I feel a little jealous. Not that Pixie dances with Jordan, but because their symbiosis is perfect. They're perfect together, they seem to have one and sole mind. I wish I had that with someone, at least once in my life.
"Maia is going to lose it," Pixie whispers under her breath, and even though I don't know that bitch, I know that Pixie is right. I mean, there was a lot of sexual tension in that video. I'm sure I could get a boner just by watching it again.
"How did you manage to send a video to the Graveyard Dolls?" I ask, still dumbfounded to have seen Pixie as a backup image to this famous band. I mean the Graveyard Dolls are always sold out ten minutes after the opening of the sales.
"Me? I didn't do anything. Jordan or Jon must have given it to Luke," she says, her voice saying the rock star's name with love. I roll my eyes at her fangirling. It is actually quite scary to see her act like a normal girl. I like weird Pixie better.
"You should stop fantasising about older men, Pixie. Your Mom won't be happy to know that your wet dreams are about a man twice your age," I tease, and she shivers, turning her head to me with shock.
"Are you insane? I could never fantasise about Luke! That's like fantasising about mister M." She shivers in disgust once again. Well, apparently Pixie is really grossed out by older men.
"He does seem a little but tired, though. I hope everything is okay," she says, her eyes flicking back to at Luke on the screen. Pixie is such a fan, worrying for the wellbeing of someone who doesn't know her. Okay, he used her dance video, but hey, what proof does she has that he actually watched it? None.
Her phone suddenly rings 'Like a Virgin' and I can't stop the burst of laughter. That's so…not Pixie. She smiles at me and switches off the TV before she lies on the couch, her head resting on my lap. Someone talks on the phone, and Pixie rolls her eyes before she 'nicely' says, "I know, Jon. If you were in on this I'm going to slap you so hard that you'll fly to Djibouti without correspondences."
What is it with Pixie and impossible threats? Killing people with broccoli? Slapping people to make them change continents? What's next? Kissing people to death? I'm waiting for her to FaceTime Jon like she does every day, but she doesn't. She tells him that she's waiting for Taki's and doesn't want to talk because she wants to save her saliva to drool over food. Then she hangs up and I look down at her, caressing her hair.
"What are you up to, tomorrow night?" she asks me, her eyes sparkling with wellbeing. It's like we never argued. This is so Pixie. She doesn't stay stuck in a mood forever, she just lets go. I should learn to do the same.
"It's not like I have a social life. I can see you, or see you, but if you don't want to, I can see you, too." I tease with a smirk and Pixie sits up to look at me with a slight frown.
"Your social life is worse than mine. At least I have a good excuse, you don't. You're hot, young and funny. Plus, you're stupid. Everyone wants a stupid friend to feel smarter."
"You couldn't just stop at funny. I like it when you give nice complements," I playfully reply, and Pixie chuckles as I pick her up in my arms and place her on my lap. I should really stop always trying to touch her…really.
"I don't give complements, Jace. I tell the truth," she says in a serious tone. I lean to her ear and whisper, "In that case, let me truthfully tell you that you are incredibly beautiful."
I can feel her cheek burning against mine as she blushes. For the first time, it seems that she doesn't have any comeback ready for me. I'm waiting for her to retort, but she doesn't. We stay silent like that until the doorbell rings.
She jumps out of my arms, and I'm not even surprised anymore. It's like this girl lives for food, and she is still skinny as a toothpick and she is pale as the moon. Go figure. I follow her to the door to help with the bags (because knowing her, she ordered a tone of food) and we both head to the kitchen to eat that humongous amount of food we just received.
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.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
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I don't know how she managed it, but Pixie is dragging me to karaoke, tonight. Actually, I do know how she managed it. She claimed she needed moral support because she doesn't want to see the Dragon alone (hence Maia). I would have called her a bitch, and not give her the honour to be called a dragon, but Pixie said that she once spit fire, so there's nothing to say about the nickname.
Right now, we're playing a video game, and Pixie is shamelessly beating me. It's humiliating. Jon was right, playing against Pixie is not good for a man's ego. After my character ended on the floor for the umpteenth time, I put the controller aside and give up. I can't win against the Devil.
Pixie tilts her head toward me with a mocking grin before getting up, and putting the controllers back in their place. I noticed that is something a little OCD in her. She always puts things in their proper place, like when we sleep on the couch, and I come back from my shower, any proof of us having been there is gone. It's a little…Bree Van de Kamp-ish, but she's a redhead, so…
We never talked back about what we said in the bathroom, but I noticed that she removed the drawing and replaced it with one of a meadow enlightened by the sun. I didn't say anything about it because I like to stay in this place she managed to bring us back to.
Pixie stretches like a cat in front of me, and I look at her dress, registering somewhere in my mind that she's been wearing a lot of dresses and skirts since Jon left. She did before, but it was for her dance, and she hasn't seen Jordan since, so yeah. I thought she would go back to wearing shorts, but no. Now she is wearing a green dress that outlines her curves and clashes with her hair, which is completely red again.
"What time do we have to start socialising?" I ask, and she grimaces at the thought of seeing her BFF, Maia.
"Jordan said that we should be there at seven, but Kaelie has something to do before, and she won't be there before half past. So, I don't want to be there before her."
"Good," I say, upon discovering that we still have two good hours before considering going there.
I swiftly get up, and reposition her to lay her in the couch with me hovering over her. She yelps and does the weirdest thing that could ever come from her: she giggles. I'm slightly taken aback, because Pixie doesn't giggle. Pixie makes ridiculous threats, Pixie hits so hard it leaves bruises, Pixie gasps in surprise, but she doesn't giggle.
I smirk at this sound that I managed to get out of her, and I lean to kiss her on the lips. She opens her mouth for me and wraps her arms around my neck as my hands are searching for the hem of her dress. She stops me, and she whines against my mouth, "I don't think we need a repetition of last night."
I growl, and roll on the side, completely agreeing with her. Last night was a disaster when I realised—too late—that I didn't have any more condoms. I mean, I realised that when I was already in her, because I felt how wet she was when I wasn't supposed to, and that made me lose my mood. I tried to help Pixie finish, but me losing it apparently made her lose it too, so we went to sleep, both completely frustrated.
Her phone suddenly buzzes, and she picks it up without even looking at the caller ID. "Clary Fray, and extremely frustrated girl lying next to a sex God. I'm listening."
I hear a male voice chuckle on the phone, and she sits up in the blink of an eye, her face so red that I can't distinguish her hair anymore. In a matter of seconds, she leaves the living room, and I slowly get up, passing my hand through my hair.
I know I should have bought condoms, but a part of me didn't want to. A part of me wants to…I don't know. It's weird. I just want to know if there's more to Pixie than just sex. This is fucking weird. I should stop overthinking this whole situation. I should just be like Pixie, and live through the moment.
Pixie walks back in the living room, her face still red and I smirk at her. "I take it that wasn't Jon."
She shakes her head, hiding her face in her hands as she slumps next to me, and I wrap a comforting arm around her shoulders, as she says: "It was my parents. I want to die. My stepfather is never going to let this go."
"Is he the old fashion kind of parent?" I ask her. She shakes her head no, her eyes sparkling with love as she explains, "Unfortunately, no. He is the kind who will make a joke about this every opportunity he gets. Kill me now?"
"And spare you the joy of being embarrassed?" I ask with a teasing smile. "I think not."
Pixie elbows me in the ribs before she snuggles against me, resting her head on my shoulders and taking my hand in hers. I don't say anything and just rub circles with my thumb on the back of her hand. We stay like that on the couch , waiting for the time to go.
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.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
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When we arrive at karaoke night, Jordan and Maia are already here, along with a blond chick and a brunette. I recognise the blond girl as Kaelie, the girl that's off-limits. Not that I would naturally go to her, she's more the kind of girl you go to in order to release your needs. The brunette reminds me that her name as Isabelle, but she wants to be called Izzy.
Pixie and I sit in front of Jordan and his dragon. I can tell that there's tension between the couple. Maia glares at Pixie all she can, making Pixie roll her eyes, and I discretely squeeze her hand under the table. Pixie slightly turns her head to me, but before she can tell me anything, Jordan requires her attention."Angel, they have our song. We're going, now!"
Pixie squeals, not even questioning him for a second, and I'm left all alone in the middle of three girls—every guy's dream, right? Well, I'd trade them all for just one Pixie. Jordan and Pixie are going to the stage under Maria's killer gaze, and as if it was on purpose, they settle on singing 'Don't Cha' by the Pussycat Dolls.
Jordan starts the rap part, and Pixie grins at him with that smile I've only seen her give Jordan. Then she rolls her shirt up and knots it in her back, winking at Jordan, and rocking her hips. She changed before coming to karaoke, saying that she didn't want to start World War Three tonight. But now it seems like she doesn't care at all, as she lets Jordan put his hands all over her.
"It's the first song they ever danced together," Kaelie explains, and I nod, understanding why the two of them are so excited about this song. They are more than excited, they're thrilled, they're dancing all over the place as they both sing, earning many cheers from the crowd.
When Pixie wraps her leg around Jordan's waist, Maia growls under her breath, "She really is a slut!"
"Maia, stop talking behind her back like that," Izzy says, obviously trying to ease the tension that has been growing ever since Pixie and I walked in.
"Really, Izzy? You're going to defend her? Aren't you the one who told me that she spent the night in your brother's room not even two weeks ago? Isn't she the one who led Simon on while you are in love with him?" Maia asks, apparently feeling betrayed by her friend.
I don't look at them, my eyes on Pixie and Jordan as they keep dancing together, and I have to say, Pixie does have some breath. I mean she dances and sings, and it's like she's just walking and talking. I can actually see her abs contract from time to time, and I can't stop thinking that if I were Jordan, I would wish for Pixie to be my girlfriend instead of that fucking bitch he has.
"She never led anyone on. Clary barely knows Simon," Kaelie says loyally, defending Pixie with anger darkening her cheeks. She could actually be pretty. You know, the natural pretty that makes you turn in the street for good reasons, not because she looks like a slut.
"What do you think, Jace?" Maia asks me with that fake sweet tone. I tear my gaze from the stage to pretend I'm actually interested in what she's saying, and she highly questions: "Your impression as someone who lives next door?"
"Jonathan," I mumble, my eyes back on the stage where Pixie and Jordan are having the time of their lives. Pixie should never stop dancing. The look of delight she has on her face when she dances is just…breath-taking. She should always look like that.
"What?" Maia asks, looking around in the hope to see Jon.
I clarify for her. "Don't call me Jace. I don't like how it sounds in your filthy little mouth."
Maia looks at me with shock before she points at me and takes Izzy as her witness. "See, another guy that she stringed along."
"You really think that if I was 'stringed along' by Pixie, I'd let you talk like that about her? Just because you're a girl doesn't mean I won't break your teeth in. You don't know why I needed to move from my old town, and you don't want to taunt me."
I'm completely bluffing on the last part. I left because no one wanted to take care of someone with such a disturbed past. Still, no one knows that beside Pixie, and I know she didn't tell anyone. Not even Jon, because the way he looked at me when we were FaceTiming didn't change. It's still that same look that I can't really analyse. I think it's jealousy, but I'm not sure.
Maia blinks at me, taken aback by my little monologue and I smirk as I evilly add: "Beside, you're not jealous that he might fuck her. You're just jealous that Pixie makes your boyfriend smile in a way you never managed to."
"I agree," says a guy behind Maia. I think he's Izzy's brother. They look a lot alike, except that he has blue eyes. All I know is that Pixie was all over him during the night of the party.
Izzy turns her head to him as he sits on the chair Pixie was occupying, and she says, "I thought you didn't want to come, Alec."
"I didn't, but then I heard that Maia would be here, and there's no way I'm leaving Clary alone with a heartless bitch like that,"he explains before snapping his head to Maia as the crowd applauds Pixie and Jordan. "Don't think I don't know about what you told her. I think you have some nerves to rub Clary's past in her face when you're no white sheep."
"Alec! My little ray of sunshine!" Pixie squeals, forbidding Maia to retort.
Pixie literally jumps on Alec's laps and sits there, embracing him tightly. He returns her embrace, and everyone is incredulously looking at them. Everyone but Alec's sister who doesn't even seems fazed by their actions. Alec kisses Pixie's cheek, making her smile as if they're sharing a secret, and then she whispers something in his ears that makes him chuckle before he says: "Yes, he is, but you shouldn't tell me."
Pixie shakes her head, and turn back to the table as Maia tries to lightly say: "I can see that you're wearing some clothes. At least more than—"
"I swear, Maia. If you bring up the video, I am going to lose it!"
"Then lose it! Because I don't like it when the whole wide world thinks my boyfriend is banging the crazy redhead from the video!"
"Maia, your insecurities are starting to really get on my nerves," Pixie growls, and she gets up from Alec's laps, therefore being closer to me. I swear, whenever Maia is around, it's like a teen movie is on. She looks for something ridiculously unimportant and amplifies it so it looks like a national security matter.
Jordan swiftly glances at me, so quickly that I'm not even sure he did, but I still get up and take Pixie by the waist. "I forgot I wanted to take you somewhere." I tell her, and she looks at me with incomprehension.
I press her toward the exit and she says: "But you said you didn't—"
"I just forgot. Let's go," I cut her off, and then we leave that stupid bitch. I'm sure she's going to complain, but I don't care. I just wanted to take Pixie away from her.
As we step outside, I realise that it's raining cats and dogs, so I grumble, cursing at the rain, but Pixie seems to think otherwise. She squeals in delight and starts spinning under the water, laughing delightfully with her face up to the sky.
She keeps laughing and laughing as I walk closer to her, and I stop her spinning by wrapping my hand around her forearm and telling her, "Stop laughing."
"Why?" she asks gleefully, her green eyes looking up to the sky as the drops of water keep on falling on her. There's still this smile of pure joy on her face, and there's a lump growing in my throat. Without being able to stop what I'm doing, I cup her face and lean forward.
"So I can do this," I say before kissing her lips. She gasps insurprise, but I don't stop the kiss. On the contrary, actually. I press my lips a little bit harder as she tries to decide whethershe likes it or not.
It's not like we never kissed before, but this time, I don't know, it feels different. It's not about fucking her; it's just about feeling her against me—feeling her delicate and pink lips against mines. Just being here, her and I under the rain.
Quickly, the kiss grows into something more passionate, and I tackle her against the wall of the nearest alley. She whimpers and breaks the kiss, and so I attack her neck, my hand looking for her skin under her shirt.
"Jace, stop," she breathes out, but I don't. I want to feel her. I want to make her feel that something that she started within me, because this something is way too damn scary to feel it alone. I need her to sooth it down somehow. This way Pixie always manages to even and rationalise my feelings.
"Please," she whimpers, but I don't pay attention to the little waver in her voice. I know that if I push her a little, she'll give in, like she already does. She just need to quiet her reason and follows her instincts like I'm doing.
"Jonathan Christopher!" she shouts, her voice abnormally weak. I stop abruptly, stupefied that she used my full name. She's never called me that before. She never even called me Jonathan, and never with that tone. It's almost as if she's frightened. That's what her eyes say anyway. That she's scared to death. She has wrapped herself in her arms, and now she's squatting on the floor, shaking like a leaf in the wind.
"Pixie?" I ask, unsure of what just happened. It's not like whenever shared more heated kisses before. She even seemed to enjoy the rougher it got, so what's wrong with now? Pixie swiftly brings her hand to her face, and she wipes away a tear that scares me to Hell. I made her cry.
"What's fucking wrong with you?!" she yells, still shaking on the ground. "You don't back people in dark alleys! You stupid, idiotic motherfucker!"
"Pixie?" I repeat, squatting as I try to understand what happened. This doesn't look like Pixie. This girl in front of me looks like she's about to break at the first brisk of wind. I reach my hand to cup her face, but she slaps it away, swiftly getting up and putting as much distance between her and I as she can.
"Don't fucking touch me!" she screams at me before she runs like Hell is behind her, and I'm left under the rain with this image of Pixie running away like I tried to kill her or something.
.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
đź’šYour thoughts and opinions are always welcomedđź’š
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~ So, I know ... Cliffy, cliffy. I know. But I love cliffies way too much, you know me.
~ And now, question time:
` 1. Why did Clary take off?
` 2. What did you think of Jace in this chapter.
` 3. What is your favourite part?
Anyway, Cassandra Clare owns the names of the characters from the Mortal Instruments franchise, everything else is mine.
Kiss💋 Kiss💋 Bang🔫 Bang🔫.