Okay.
Just saying you guys are going to love and hate this chapter.
Mostly hate.
Kind of love for all you clace lovers out there.
Enjoy at your peril.
September 13th
Jace
The second she walked into that classroom, I couldn't think straight.
All I could think about...was how much I screwed up…how much I wished I could go back in time and fix all the mistakes I've made. But, I can't, I must live with all of them. I must look and stare at Clary Fray all day long and pretend the simple sight of her doesn't make my heart bleed.
Even Aline doesn't distract me anymore.
Yes, she was only a distraction. Before you start the judgment because she's a human begin…I'm pretty sure the using of each other is mutual. She only wants me because I'm new, I'm fresh meat, and I'm pretty popular. It's sad and pathetic…for both of us.
What has my life gotten too?
Clary, Clary, Clary.
Isabelle knows my weakness, she knows how much she is already drives me crazy and now…I'm at a lost for words.
I have been pacing my room for many an hour now, trying to come with an idea, a solution to this big mess. But, my mind is a piece of road kill.
"Isabelle?" Now I'm walking into her bedroom.
She is sitting on her bed, a piece of watermelon in one hand and a magazine in the other.
"What do you want Jace?" Her tone is aggressive and bored at the same time. Ever since the lake house, she has been very hostile to say the least towards me.
"I need to-"
"I knew it." A smirk lines her lips.
"Pardon?" I ask, confusion twisting into my visage.
"It's driving you insane isn't?" She has dropped the fruit and magazine and is now standing up.
"What? I don't follow."
"Clary's total makeover. She is getting attention from almost every guy in the school and you can't stand it."
I want to slap her cocky smile off her face.
"Not true." I say simply.
She laughs instead, not buying my attempt. "This is great!" She jumps flat out in the air.
What the hell?
"Just tell me one thing before I leave with maybe one ounce of dignity…" I'm basically on my knees begging for her, it's sad.
"Yes brother." She twirls a piece of hair in her finger.
"Why would you do it anyways?"
"What the makeover?"
I nod.
"Because…" She sits on her bed again. "She needed a boast of confidence. Clary…I don't know how to describe it…was in a dark place before and after we arrived. I think this has helped her tremendously. And all you have done has just made it worse for it, Jace."
"Come on Iz, that's not fair-"
"It's completely fair. Clary is a great girl and we were here, what a week? Three? And you made her feel like shit." She frowns. "Just fix it."
I shake my head, "I just don't know how."
"I'm not saying you have to confess your undying feelings for her, just go apologize or something. It wouldn't kill you."
And with that, she flops onto her bed, grabbing her magazine, and not saying another word.
If we weren't the only two houses on the street, someone would probably think I'm a stalker.
I have been walking around her house for a while now. Going over a little speech in my head, it's all bullshit though.
I don't care though. I have to take what Isabelle said to heart, put my feelings to the side and think about her.
Only her.
I sigh as I make my way up her porch stairs, hearing the pounding music coming inside her ranch house.
My hands shake as I go to knock.
Seconds pass and no answer.
I knock, this time a little bit harder, and again, no answer.
Finally, I pound on the door, calling her name.
I hear shuffling and the music stops.
I exhale in relief.
Seconds later, she throws open the door.
I think my heart just stopped.
Not kidding.
She's still wearing that skimpy dress from school, without the jacket though. She looks absolutely breath taking, even as her face turns a pallor color when she sees me.
Clary
"Hey." He says as he smiles lazily at me.
What is he doing here?
My heart is pounding so loud; I hope he can't hear it.
"Um hi?" I answer acutely.
"Can we talk for a minute?" He's acting like this is the easiest and simplest thing he has ever done in his entire life, I wonder if he can tell I'm about to faint.
"I guess." I throw open the door, allowing him some space to walk in. "Sorry, it's kind of a mess." I can't believe I'm apologizing to him of all people.
"It's all good." He is walking around, looking at the different things in my house as if he has never seen this place before.
"So, what did you want to talk about?" I ask coolly.
"You know," He places his hand into his hair, parting it the side. It kills me inside, just a few days ago, I was able to run up and do that myself and now… "Just about everything."
"Jace," I head over to the kitchen, trying to act casual. "You're going to have to be more specific than that."
He follows me into the kitchen, WHY?
"About the last few weeks in general…"
I kind of cut him off, "You forgot the part where I only met you a few weeks ago." I start rinsing dishes, allowing the sound of flowing water to distract me partly from the insanely gorgeous male standing a few feet away from me.
"Oh yeah." He rubs his head, "I just wanted to say sorry for-"
I fully cut him off this time around, "Save it, I don't want to hear it." I scrub the cutting board I used to slice apples, not bothering to turn around to catch his reaction.
"Really Clary?" I can tell he has moved closer. "You don't want to know why I acted like I did?"
"Actually I don't." Focus. On. The. Dishes. "Remember Jace, we barely know each other, and it is not like we were in some kind of relationship." I don't even believe myself.
"I know that but I thought we had some good moments and I want to make it up to you."
The dish that was in my hand falls to the bottom of the sink with a loud clang. "Good moments?" An angry, acid laugh escapes my throat. "Is that what you want to call it?"
This is what I do, when I'm hurt, I push everyone away; first Simon, Maia, Luke, and now him.
"Yeah, I guess that's not the best way to put it." He's looking into my eyes now, it's almost like I can see hurt flashing in and out, almost. As if he's trying to hide it, but why?
"Then what's the best way to put it?"
"I honestly don't know Clary." He sighs heavily. "Everything is confusing to me."
"Explain to me what's confusing please." My voice cautious, "Because kissing me, leaving for a few weeks, and then coming back and never talking to me again is not confusing."
He doesn't say anything for a minute, I take that as he has given up, so I proceed back to washing the dishes. I had to finish them before Isabelle and Maia got here and I wasn't going to allow him to stand in my way.
"Could you stop washing dishes and listen to me for a second?" He finally says.
I don't follow his orders and keep working scrubbing the remains of cheese stuck on the side of this bowl.
"I don't recall you saying anything in the last few minutes."
"Maybe you make me at a lost for words."
"Awww, how charming." Mock colors my voice.
He tugs his hair in annoyance, which puts a smile on my face.
"Is hurting myself the only way to make you laugh?"
I shrug while putting the dishes away. "Maybe."
I cast a look over my shoulder to see him punching himself in the gut playfully and slapping himself in the face. It's quite an odd sight but at the same time, I can't help but laugh.
"Ha!" He moves forward so he's only a few feet in front of me. "I made you laugh finally."
"You did no such thing." A smile still lines my lips as I reach (on my tippy toes) to the highest counter in my kitchen to attempt to put this cutting board away. But, I'm way too short. I'm about to climb onto the counter when I feel a rock hard body press against me, snake up my arm, and help me put the board away.
I let out a heavy breath, "Thanks."
I slowly turn around and am welcomed by all of him. There is no other way to describe it. His body is still pressed close against me, and before I can move away, his lips are on mine.
I freeze immediately, my mind screaming at me this is a horrible, horrible thing. Because of how much he hurt me but at the same exact time, my heart is pulsing in pure bliss, commanding my mind to shut the hell up.
Suddenly without another thought, I melt into him. Allowing all the self-control I had the past few days to completely vanish. I twine my hands up his neck; tugging at his hair roughly until a soft, groan escapes from him. And that only makes me want to kiss him harder, fiercer, deeper, or until time fades away and it's just us in this moment forever.
As if he had my same thought, he digs his hands into my hips and lifts me onto the kitchen counter. Immediately, I wrap my legs around his, desiring us to be closer, as close as humanly possible.
It's a dirty thought.
At then my hands are out of his hair and curving down his body, slipping under his shirt, feeling his firm core. I trace small, circles around and over his stomach; I'm doing that because it's distracting me from either dying of absolute passion or bursting into flames. But it only seems to be driving him insane, he's moaning softly against my lips, as he plays with the straps of my dress. He's sliding them up and down as if he's waiting for my A-Okay; I'm surprised someone like him would be waiting for me.
But I want it off, all of it off.
I nod slowly to him and then my dress is at my waist. And I'm unbuttoning his shirt, but my hands are shaking so violently I'm afraid he will stop in this moment and never talk to me again.
But he doesn't seem to notice.
I wonder if he can hear my heart beating. Well, I can. I feel like in one minute it's going to tear out of my chest and fly away.
So many things are happening at once, I don't know if I can handle it.
His lips are leaving a vestige of wet kisses on my neck, which isn't helping when I'm trying to get his shirt off.
His gentle hands slide to my back, to my bra clasp. He pulls away slightly, "Is this okay?" he whispers quietly.
I yank the last of his shirt off, before answering his question. I search his golden eyes, no longer light and full of mischievous, they are dark and foreign, I've only seen them such a color when we are kissing.
I nod slightly, my stomach suddenly having unwanted visitors of butterflies.
He cups the side of my face, a shy smile lining his lips, as if he was hiding a secret, for all I knew, he was. He nudges his nose to mine before placing a small, tender kiss onto my lips.
It's on of those kisses that aren't fierce or bold but makes you want to dissolve and do it all over again. But of course, it doesn't last forever; he pulls away, his hands edging towards my back when I notice something out of the ordinary.
I pull back from his touch.
His eyebrows immediately knit in confusion, "What's wrong?"
I take his hands into mine and place them on the counter, allowing myself a better view.
Running from his right armpit to nearly his waist is a jagged, red cut. It looks like could be a burn but it's length and width is way too big for that.
I trace my fingers lightly on it, and even on that gently touch, he flinches back.
"Jace." I say to him softly. "What happened?"
"It's nothing." He answers too quickly.
"It doesn't look like nothing."
The more I look at it the more it could look like…maybe a whip mark? A knife? It could be some many things.
I frown, "Tell me."
"Seriously Clary, it's nothing." And with that, he crushes his lips onto mine, trying to distract me. For a second, I evaporate into him again, the mark dissolving into the background. But when I catch another look, I push him away again.
"Seriously Jace, what's up?"
"Just some bar fight I got into."
I search his eyes, something just seems off; I can't explain it.
"Please tell me the truth."
"What if I told you I was telling you the truth." His voice changes from soft and gentle to hard and vicious.
"Then I wouldn't believe you."
"God Clary!" He throws himself off me in a harsh matter. "Why do you have to ruin everything?"
I'm the one who knits my eyebrows this time, "What are you even talking about? I just asked you a question you can't answer!"
"You know," he grabs his shirt off the floor. "Aline never asked me about that scar."
I'm taken back, "What?" my voice is full of disbelief.
"You heard me." His voice smug, "She never cared, and she thought it was sexy."
What. No. It. Can't. Be.
But it is.
The idea of them being together has always been an after thought…I just hoped it wasn't true.
He keeps going, "At the lake house, rolling around in the bed sheets, she loved the sight of it," he tosses his shirt back on, "she wasn't disgusted by it like you."
"Wh- why-" my voice is shaking violently, I can't control it. "Why would you tell me that?"
I clench the counter, attempting to stop myself from falling over.
Falling off the edge.
"I just thought you should know." He narrows his eyes, "that you should know you aren't anyone special."
I feel like an arrow just pierced my heart, and inside instead of my body slowly down, it completely shatters. Breaks down into a million and billion pieces of nothing.
I can't say anything, because even if I could open my mouth, nothing would come out.
He gives me a once-over, his eyes trailing up and down my body as if one minute ago his hands weren't all over it, "You should pull your dress back up," his voice full of horror, "you look pathetic."
And with those final words he walks out of my house.
I'm not sure how much time has passed since he left. I have been lying down on the kitchen floor for some time, enjoying the sweet serenity of the darkness around me.
The title floor is cool and crispy encircling my body and I don't have the guts to get up and go on with my day.
Our past moments keeps going off in my head -his hands on mine and then…the nothingness of it all.
You look pathetic.
You aren't anyone special.
You look pathetic.
You aren't anyone special.
You look pathetic.
I shouldn't allow one person to have so much control over me, but at this moment, I don't want to be here anymore. Not in this kitchen, not in this house, I just don't want to be in this world anymore.
I don't want to ever see his face again nor see my friends or go on with my life.
I desire to feel the darkness permanently enveloping around me.
That's a wicked thought to have. But somehow, that's what I want.
I pick up my body, my limbs feel like mush, I'm tempted to lie back down on the floor again but I keep going.
Now I'm climbing the steps to the second floor.
One after the other.
Somehow the stairs end and I'm in my bedroom, don't ask me how because I don't recall.
It seems my legs are moving for themselves yet my mind isn't proceeding the movements around me.
I sigh, as I head towards my night table.
The world is blurred around me and all I can see is my jar of pills. I wonder how many of these I need to take in order to not feel anything anymore.
I wonder about a lot of things.
Digging through the drawer, I grab another jar, but instead it's full of soporific pills.
I still remember the day when I got my medication and Luke told me to never mix these with the sleeping pills. He went on and on about how it could damage my health and what not…
But now, all I can see is how those pills could help me.
It can make all the pain and aching go away.
People say it's a selfish thing to do.
But I believe it's quite the opposite actually.
Feeling the two dangerous kinds of medications sliding down my throat, cleanses me of my problems.
It reminds me that the world will be better without Clary Fray.
Luke, Simon, Maia, Isabelle, and Jace will be much better without me.
It's how it all should have been.
The world around me starts to fade; I clutch my side of my bed, hoping to hold onto that last moment before everything dwindles away.
And that last moment is of him.
If he would know, which is will never find out, he would probably call me pathetic again. Say that even on my deathbed, I'm thinking of only of my golden boy.
Golden boy are the last two words muttered from the mouth before my entire world shatters into stars and absolute darkness.
Well.
I don't know what to say.
This is the direction I wanted the story to be going since the start...and now it's here.
What will happen to Clary?
Review!
Tell me your thoughts!
Until next time...
If there is a next time...
