Hello darlings! Sorry it's been a while, I have three essays for school): anyways, this chapter includes: an overwhelmingly adorable Clace date(: Will they reveal secrets, or lock away their morbid pasts? 12 reviews for a faster update and a kissing scene!
Love all of you, I promise you're good enough.
xx- Kelse

Clary:

"Simon! I've said sorry at least twenty times!" I grumble into the phone pressed between my ear and shoulder. I pick at my cuticles, annoyance filling me to the brim.

"Well technically, eighteen. But who's counting, right?" He jokes sarcastically. I can practically feel his taunting eyes on me. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I groan, blowing excess air between my lips, making a horse-like noise. "Didn't really sound like you meant it? Try again maybe this time put some more emotion behin-" He starts, attempting to hold in his laughter.

"Simon Lewis, I have apologized twenty times, don't expect to hear it again." I snap bitterly, scrunching up my nose slightly. "I mean it is just a huge gig that I spent weeks of tireless effort, and convincing to book you, but you know, just don't show at the last minute. It's all good."

I snort at the 'tireless effort' part. "Simon you spent five minutes and booked me at a rundown bar.. Tireless effort my ass." I smirk, knowing he couldn't argue with my logic, considering it is the truth. "Fine Fray, be that way." He fake sniffles, but I can tell he's smiling.

"Love you Lewis.." I say as sweetly as I can before I hang up, sliding the worn out phone in my back-pocket. I have on charcoal grey skinny jeans, a dark green and bronze airy, sheer gypsy shirt, and my suede tan combat boots. I actually cleaned up pretty nice for once.

I examine my face with a small amount of face makeup to dull the freckles, some dark eyeliner, mascara, and light pink lipstick. I throw my mess of curls into two french braids and grab my leather satchel.

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"M'lady," Jace queers, smiling happily at me as he holds the door of his old worn-out truck. I hop in, buckling my seat belt and leaning back in the plush seat. The entire car smells of fresh mint and brisk air, just like Jace.

I agreed to go on a date with him yesterday, right before I left his house. We are going to some local dinner place. I'm practically pulsing with nerves and anticipation, it's a good yet slightly nauseating feeling.

The car starts up, gasoline fragrance filling the humid air. I hang my arm out of the open window, close my eyes and lean back into the old leather seat.

The air catches on my fingertips, causing my hand to fly backward, letting me know we have started to drive. Then I get an idea; I haven't done this in years. I loosen my seatbelt and stick my chest and head out the window, letting my open arms flail in the strong, brisk wind current.

I keep my eyes shut, feeling the air hit my face, blowing my hair haphazardly. I feel so free, like I'm a bird, able to go wherever I want, fly from my problems.

"Turn on the alternative channel." I command loudly, making sure Jace can hear me through the loud gusts of wind. I hear the refreshing music blare only moments later, acoustic tune and soothing voice filling my bones and burning through my chest.

This is living. This is how it feels to be happy; not just fake smiling, protecting myself happy. I'm on cloud nine.

"Oh lights go down
In the moment we're lost and found
I just wanna be by your side
If these wings could fly"

I sing quietly into the wind, voice filled with eery emotion. You know how every person just has that one song they connect to, and it becomes part of who they are? Well that's me with this song.

I'm lost, still waiting to be found. And I have this fantasy that one day I will sprout wings and fly away, fly away and find my happiness. I pull my head back in the car and quickly try to fix my tousled hair.

"Looks like someone was enjoying herself." Jace chuckles, moving his hand from his lap to my hand, covering it and rubbing soft circles on it.

"It's indescribable," I begin, looking at his concentrated face as he gazes at the empty, sinuous road ahead, "the way it feels to have the wind in your hair, the music in your ears, it's as if everything melts away and all that matters is right then. Not yesterday, not last month, not two years from now. Just here, in this moment. It's freedom." I say bringing my knees to my chest and lying my head on them.

I hear his breathing intake sharply at my description. With him, I feel as if I can talk about anything. And it's totally insane considering he used to torment me, and I barely know him. But it's the way I feel, my heart tells me this is good for me, that he is good for me. I just hope my heart is right.

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Jace:

"So what's with you?" Clary asks quietly, glancing up at me with those luminous green eyes. I stare at the surrounding trees, the noise of the breeze rustling the leaves, the small forest animals scurrying about.

"What about me?" I say curiously, glancing down at the cracked stone bench we are lounging on. I took Clary out for dinner and then she said she knows a good place to just relax. So we came here, to her secret hideout.

"I don't know, you and your mysterious shit. I want to hear your story." She queers, shrugging lightly and examining a maple leaf intensely. I can tell she's not that interested in it though, just uncomfortable with her recently asked question.

"Well where do I start?" I mutter quietly, mostly talking to myself. I'm obviously going to tell her, I trust her. Maybe if I tell her this she'll trust me.

"The beginning.." She whispers, scooting her body closer to mine and laying her head on my shoulder. I immediately wrap an arm around her and bring her even closer. "Well I was raised by a very rich family," I begin, taking special care not to look at her as I relive my morbid past.

"They were practically famous, everyone knew who they were. They would take me for ice-cream, hold my hand in public, buy me toys, say they loved me. People thought they were the definition of perfect parents, but they weren't. They were monsters, and all that was an act for the public."

I take a deep breathe, closing my eyes and gathering my courage. Thinking about this is hard, reliving it with the girl I think I might be falling in love with is impossible.

"My dad was always drunk, vodka and scotch hidden all in his office. He was always wasted, so most of the time he was just locked in his office, silently drinking away his sorrows. There were times, though, when he would come out and just beat the shit out of my mom, for no reason. He would sit me on the couch and tell me to watch, tell me that there is no love, there is only an illusion of it as he stomped on her limp body."

"But I didn't believe him, because he was sadistic and bitter. One day he eventually died from drinking too much, I was eight. At his funeral, mother still cried, and I didn't understand why. I mean he beat her, he beat her own son. But she still loved him."

"And eventually she became resentful and angry. She had all this built up sexual need and well, by that time I was fourteen. I think you can guess what- what she did. If I didn't listen, or obey, she would sit me in the shower, and cook up hot oil. She would pour it all over my back and arms. It hurt like hell, skin festered and peeled off, burnt and melted. And she would just laugh cheerfully, as if it were a good time."

"Each time she would tell me that this is what love does to you, peels your skin off and eats you alive. As she always said, 'To love is to destroy, and to be loved is to be destroyed.' And I believed her. Because I always loved her, even through all that. But she wasn't the same anymore, she had gone completely mad. One day she had a seizure from the anti-psychotics she was taking, which weren't exactly helping much. So I was put in the foster system, crazed and alone. But then I found the Lightwoods and I'm fine. Better now that I've found you." I mutter, feeling hollow at the morbid memories.

"Can I see them..?" Clary asks quietly, glancing at me cautiously, as if scared I would be offended. I nod slowly, pulling up my sleeves and turning my head away so I don't have to see her disgusted expression. She doesn't gasp, cry out, wince. Silence. Then I feel it, her fingertip lightly tracing over them, causing my entire body to tremble at the sensation. "I like them. They make you look all hot and badass." She says, smiling up at me and peppering light kisses up my arm.

I sigh, feeling the pleasant vibes of her lips on my skin. She accepted me, no she did more, she embraced me.

I feel her lips leave my arm, and her hot breath tickle the back of my neck, causing goosebumps to rise everywhere. No girl has ever done this to me.

"Want to see mine?"

AHH THEY ARE SO PERFECT AND IMPERFECT AT THE SAME TIME!
12 REVIEWS?!
So Jace opened up, and Clary will to a degree next chapter.
Cant even comprehend the adorableness.
R&R
goodbye, darlings.

xx- Kelse