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To the Guest called Flabberknot: Nope. Instagram is also IWriteNaked. Pretty much everything is. No idea where that question came from. WARNING: Rapey lemon.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Mortal Instruments.
-Jace Wayland-
By the time I enter our bedroom again, Clary is already asleep. She's laying on her side, facing away from the door, with the blanket pulled up over her shoulder. Her hair is damp, laying in soft waves across her pillow. she rolls over when I slip into the bed. "Jace." She whispers, tiredly. "I didn't think you were coming back." The sadness in her voice threatens to slice through the wall I've built. I don't reply to her. I just lay flat on my back and stare blankly into the darkness. "You're mad at me." Clary says, pushing the blankets off herself. She flicks on the lamp.
"I'm not mad." I say numbly.
She brings her knees to her chest, leaning against the head board. "Then why are you acting this way?"
I scoff. "Like what?" She cringes at my tone.
"Like that." Says Clary. "You've been distant for days..." She looks away from me, taking a deep breath. "Then you just left today, like nothing happened."
Anger flares in my chest. "You do the same thing all the time. Why should I stay if you won't? You're the one who said not to make this into something it's not."
Clary flinches. "I'm sorry." She looks at her feet, with unimaginable grief, threatening to soften my hardened heart. "I just didn't want you to feel obligated to be anything more. All I meant was that you don't have to act like it meant anything to you."
"I'm just doing what you said, Clary." I want to tell her that it does mean something to me, but something tells me she wouldn't believe it. "We could argue endlessly, but I don't know what you want me to do. I've tried to make this easier for you, but either way you hate me."
Clary finally looks at me, as if she's been looking for me. She shakes her head, slides off the bed and walks toward the door. Just before the door closes behind her, she tells me "I don't hate you. I hate myself."
-Clary Fray-
I tell myself not to cry, sinking into the bed that Jonathan will sleep in soon. I've been counting the days. Part of me wishes he was here already. I need him right now. I want to hear him sing, and tell him about everything that's happened. He would know what to do.
Of course, I can't tell him even after he gets here. He'd go ballistic, and kill Jace. That wouldn't fix things between us, it would make it worse. Ugh. What am I supposed to do?
-One week later-
Jace groans when Valentine hangs up. "Come here." He says to me. It's the first thing he's said to me in a week.
He leans back against the wall, still in his pajamas. His dark blue, plaid pants hang low in his hips, and he didn't bother to put on a shirt yet. I shake my head, refusing his request.
Jace sighs, tilting his head to the side a little. "Come here, Clary." He says, more firmly.
I take in a shaky breath and say "No, Jace."
He looks at me with such pure, unadulterated hatred, I feel a deep ache in my chest. I know it's probably just a physical reaction from stress causing my heart to squeeze tighter than normal, but the pain is real. It feels a lot like heartbreak. I back up to the wall on the other side of the room. His expression doesn't soften. "We have to." He says simply. "You heard Valentine."
He pushes off the wall, crossing the room to where I stand. I slap his hand away before it reaches me. "Don't."
Jace ducks his head, looking at me through his eyelashes. His most attractive expression. He sighs again. "You said you wouldn't fight anymore." He reminds me.
I swallow hard, trying to get rid of the lump in my throat. "That was before you ignored me for a week."
Jace deadpans. "What do you want me to say?" He yells. "I'm sorry we're in this situation. I'm sorry I tried to comfort you, and it made you uncomfortable. I'm sorry you're a cold hearted bitch!"
I blink back tears, straighten out my spine and turn to leave the room. Jace grabs my arm. "We still have to do this, Clary. It doesn't matter how angry you are right now, I'm not letting you die over it."
A single tear overflows from my eye, but Jace doesn't see it. He's leaned me over the edge of the bed. He stands behind me, lowers both of our pants just enough to get this over with.
He pushes into me hard. His hand knots into my hair. I close my eyes tightly. "You're hurting me."
Jace grunts, and loosens his grip on my hair. His hand trails down my back softly. I bury my face in the blanket, and finally let myself cry. His movements become more gentle. He pulls out of me just long enough to flip me over, and scoot both of us onto the bed.
I turn my head to the side when he tries to kiss me. "Hey, don't cry." He wipes at the tears on my cheeks. "I'm sorry I called you a bitch. I didn't mean it."
Jace turns my face back toward his. "Stop trying to kiss me." I say.
He take his bottom lip between his teeth. "Okay. Whatever you want."
I look away from him again, but I can feel his gaze on my face. It feels like forever before he rolls off of me. Neither of us move. We just lay there in very awkward silence, feeling like shit. "I really fucked this up." He says.
I shake my head, and lace our fingers together. "No, I did."
He rolls onto his side and pulls me into his arms. "I could have been nicer about... This. But I was mad." He gestures toward our naked bodies. "Please don't hate me."
"I don't."
Sorry if this chapter is a bit.. bitter.
Review? See you guys on Saturday! Sorry this week is all out of whack.
-IWriteNaked