Chapter 12: The Night After

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Jace POV

I knock on Clary's door, feeling a little bit awkward about the whole ordeal. I had never felt the need to sneak around with a girl before – if the press found out, then they found out. I had never hooked up with a girl I was embarrassed about before, and I didn't care if people knew that I had a couple of one night stands. Sneaking around had always seemed like more effort than it was worth. But Clary wanted to sneak around, and if it made Clary happy, then I would be happy to do it. I would do anything if it meant making Clary happy.

Clary answers the door, and I notice that she's swapped out her skinny jeans and heals for pyjama shorts and slippers.

She invites me inside, and I sit on the couch while she disappears into the kitchen. She quickly reappears with a bottle of wine and two wine classes, as well as a packet of goldfish.

I pour us each a glass of wine, while Clary turns on some music. Nina Simone begins to play, and Clary comes and joins me on the couch.

"Interesting choice in music," I say, leaning back into the couch.

"You don't like Nina Simone? If you're really against it I can change it, but I think it's crazy not to appreciate it," she says, already getting up to change the music.

I pull her back down to the couch, making sure that she's sitting closer to me than before, and I hear her laugh. God I love that sound. "It's not at all that I don't like Nina Simone, it's just not what I'd expect you to listen to."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asks, picking up a few goldfish.

"Well, it's just, the music you and your band make, it's pretty different to this kinda stuff. You guys seem to do more pop these days, and more of an alternative rock feel back in the day." I explain, not wanting to offend her.

She leans into me and closes her eyes, quietly humming along to the music. I don't think she's going to say anything more on the topic, but she slowly opens her eyes again and explains "I'll listen to, and enjoy, pretty much any music. I've never been able to get into heavy metal. I don't know why, I still appreciate it though. Every type of music has its time and place. I feel like her voice, Nina Simone's, in itself tells a story. I'm probably making no sense, but just the sound of her voice, I could listen to it all day. It takes me somewhere else. I'm being stupid – talking out of my ass." She says with a small laugh.

I want to tell her that I know exactly what she means. That when I hear Clary laugh, it's like being taken back to grade school, where I had no problems, and could spend all day running around in the sun. That her laughter sounds like sunshine feels. That I could listen to Clary all day. But instead I just say, "no, I get what you're talking about."

We sit on the couch for a little while longer, just sharing the wine, listening to the music. Even though we're doing nothing, it's one of the best night I've ever had. There's just something about Clary. She may only be twenty, but she has this calm that comes with her. Her presence alone makes me feel better, and I just want to be next to her all the time. That's why, at 2.00, it kills me to say "It's getting pretty late, and you have a flight tomorrow, so I should really get going."

"You can stay here," Clary says quietly.

"What?" I ask, not sure if I heard her right.

"It's pretty late, and you'll be hard pressed to get a cab up here at this hour. And it's the least I could, after everything you've done for me over the last couple of days."

"Okay," I say back. Clary begins picking up the empty wine bottle and packet of goldfish, so I grab the wine glasses and follow her into the kitchen. Clary puts the rubbish in the bin, which is under the sink, and so I stand behind her, waiting to put the wine glasses in the sink, but I don't think Clary realised how close I was standing and turns into me. Our chests are touching. I quickly put the wine glasses on the bench, but I can feel her heartbeat going a million miles an hour, probably speeding to keep up with mine. I'm look down into her eyes, trying to figure out every single colour in them. I get lost in her eyes, when a piece of her hair falls into one.

Before I know what I'm doing, I gently push the hair back behind her ear, and then let my hand cup her check, rubbing my thumb over her cheek bone. I can feel her breath on my hand now, soft and even.

I lean down, and slowly, softly our lips touch. Quickly, the kiss becomes more urgent, like we're both trying to tell each other something through the kiss. I can taste the wine and artificial cheese on her, just like we're still sitting back on the couch, sipping from our own glasses and feeding each other from the packet.

I pull her hair out of its bun, and begin twining my finger in it. I can feel Clary's own hands playing in my hair, running up and down my arms, slipping up the back of my shirt. I'm not sure how long we kiss, it could be minutes, or it could be days – but I know I don't care. The world slips away so that everything is Clary.

I can feel that Clary is becoming a little shaky on her legs, and don't know if it's the drinks or the kiss. Maybe both. Nonetheless, I pick her up, and she wraps her legs around my waist. I deepen the kiss again, and begin moving out of the kitchen.

Sometime later, we find ourselves in the bedroom, and I gently place Clary down on the bed, and look down at her. Her lips are red and swollen, and her hair is a mess, but she's never looked more beautiful to me.

She's looking up at me panting, when she sits up, never breaking eye contact with me, and pulls off her shirt. I look down to her body, and whisper "beautiful," and as my eyes travel back up to hers I see a deep purple bruise on her shoulder.

Suddenly, I remember everything that Clary has gone through the last couple of days, and how much we have had to drink during the night, and I can't help but feel that I'm taking advantage of her. I pick up Clary's shirt, and put it back over her head, and help her pull her arms through the sleeves.

She's giving me a confused, kind of hurt look, and tries to pull me back to her, but I quickly get off the bed.

"What the hell?" I hear Clary ask quietly, "did I do something wrong?"

"God, no!" I say, that was the best thing I think I've ever experienced. "It's just. It's late. And we've had a bit to drink. And you may be in bit of a vulnerable position. I didn't want you to feel like I was taking advantage of you." I say, fighting to keep my voice even, to stop my mind from wandering to what we were doing one minute ago, to Clary's body...

A small smile plays on her lips, and she gets of the bed and meets me, grabbing one of my hands, with her own smaller, but far stronger hands. "You're not taking advantage of me," she whispers, trying to pull me back to the bed.

I stand my ground "You might think that now, but who knows what you'll think in the morning. I- what we just had... Jesus, it was amazing. I wouldn't want anything to ruin the memory of tonight. I don't want to take advantage of you… I respect you too much."

Clary let's go of my hand, but doesn't seem to want to give up. She lets out a small laugh before saying, "Jace, I promise you, you're not taking advantage of me. I don't think it now, and I won't in the morning." She obviously sees the speculation on my face, because she keeps talking. "Jace please, I want you to. Maybe I'm taking advantage of you, huh? Ever think of that?"

It's probably the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but I quietly tell Clary to get some sleep, and turn off the light. Just as I'm about to shut the door, I hear Clary quietly asking me not to leave. "Please, please stay. We don't have to do anything, I promise." I can't help but hear how vulnerable she sounds. Almost broken.

It breaks my heart, but I turn to Clary and tell her I'll be on the couch if she needs anything, and shut the door before I can hear her response. I let out a breath I wasn't aware I was holding, and head back to the living room.

I lay down on the couch, and am staring up at the ceiling. As much as I wanted to stay with Clary, I don't trust myself in the same bed as her, and the last thing she needed right now was some guy taking advantage of her.

I sigh, turning on my side. As I begin to fall asleep, all I can think of it our kiss, and how amazing it was. And how amazing Clary is.

I wake up a few hours later, but it's still dark out. It's probably because I am about a foot too tall to be sleeping on this couch. I roll over again, and slowly start to fall asleep, and just as I'm about to pass out, I hear music coming from somewhere in the apartment.

I sit up, listening for a little while longer, and can only hear a guitar, coming from somewhere down the hallway.

I get up, following the sound, until I come to a room next to Clary's bedroom. It's lit by just a single lamp, and in the middle, Clary is sitting with her back to me. She's softly playing the guitar, and she has pencil stuck behind her ear. She is swaying gently to the music that she's playing, the gentle guitar melody seeming to override her body movements.

I stay at the door for a little while longer, until she stops playing and begins writing on the sheet of paper in front of her. When she picks up her guitar to start playing again, I walk into the room and sit on the chair beside her.

When she looks over at me, I can see the bags of her eyes illuminated by the lamp.

"I always seem to be able to write when I can't sleep," Clary explains, "but it seems like more and more these days, I'm in this room almost every night, for hours at a time, and I just see this blank piece of paper staring back at me, questioning me, mocking me."

"And tonight's different?" I ask, looking down at the sheet which has notes written all over it.

She avoids the question, and continues as if I hadn't asks, "almost every time, before we go on tour, I find myself in a room, just willing myself to be able to write, and nothing comes. I love performing, it's one of the only perks of what I do. But I leave tomorrow, for sixty nights, or some shit. And then we get a quick break and then it starts all over again. Despite being with the guys, and having this big team of people who support us, I've started to feel so damn lonely on tour. And the only thing that brings me out of it is performing. It's like, I need thirty thousand people screaming at me to realise that I'm awake. But it only lasts two hours. And then I'm counting down for that moment again for the next 22 hours. And all of the stuff I have to do in-between each concert... All of the press and the photo shoots and the PR and the meet and greets, all of it just makes me want to stop."

She's looking down at her bare feet, and I don't really know what to say. She always seems so positive, I never would have imagined that she felt like this. I'm about to say something, I'm not sure what, but anything to fill the silence, when she starts talking again, apparently answering my previous question.

"But then tonight, when I was with you. I was awake, and alive, and happy. And you made me forget that I'm about to go on tour again. And I know it's selfish of me, but I just didn't want that feeling to stop. I'm sorry, it was selfish of me. I'm just so confused, and scared. "

I can see her fiddling with her fingers, slowly beginning to breathe more quickly. She quickly wipes a tear away before it has a chance to fall, letting out a big sigh.

I pick up the sheet that is sitting in front of her, and begin asking her about her writing. I ask her how much she does it, what she likes writing best. Talking about it seems to calm her down, helps her forget about everything else. She becomes completely consumed in talking about it. Just like before on the couch, music seems to consumer her.

I tell her the story about the time, when I was five, that I wrote a song for my parents to convince them to have another child. That I wanted a little brother so bad that I didn't really understand what I was asking them.

I can see Clary is beginning to get sleepy, so I guide her back to her bedroom. As I help her get into the bed, and pull the covers over her, I hear her, so quietly that I almost miss it, asking me to stay again. She says it this time almost embarrassed, as if I'll say no again. Instead, I walk around to the other side of the bed, and get under the covers with her. I find her hand, and hold on tight, letting her know that I'm not going anywhere.

And even though it was only out hands touching, and Clary falls asleep almost instantly, it was the most comfortable I had ever been in bed with another person. It was the first time like I truly felt like I belonged. The first time I wanted to be there.


Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed that chapter. Sorry for the tease :( I know it maybe ended a little different to how to how some of you may have wanted, but come back next week for the next day... I think it'll have everything you want!

For the part where Clary is playing the guitar, if you want to know the sort of thing I was thinking put 'Harry Styles Two Ghosts Intro' into Youtube, and any guitar thing he does while at a live concert is the sort of thing I was thinking - but feel free to imagine anything you want :). As always, please review with any questions, comments or suggestions you have - everything helps! See you next week.