Hodge wasn't joking about the drills at the crack of dawn. The sun was barely over the horizon and he was pulling away at her covers, urging her out of bed and speaking a little too loudly. He was enjoying it, she could tell. She could feel the wicked satisfaction seeping out of his pores.

She ate a quick breakfast and off to the training room she went, practicing somersaults and high jumps, doing strength and speed exercises, throwing blades and chakrams at moving targets. As if to annoy her, Hodge sat in a nearby chair, relaxing with his favorite Earl Grey tea with a squeeze of lemon and reading a book about the uses of feverfew and chamomile.

Eva saw stars when the clock struck noon. Her cheeks were flushed and her skin glistened with sweat while her curly hair was frizzy and tangled despite having pulled it up into a tight ponytail. Her muscles were screaming for a rest. Hodge told her to shower and get changed and come to the kitchens for lunch. She did just that.

"I hear you pissed Hodge off," Jace asked with his usual sly grin. He was sitting at the small table in the kitchen, his ankle resting on top of his knee and his muscular arms crossed over his chest. The Agility rune at his throat was just starting to fade. Eva was jealous; Hodge didn't even let her carve a single rune on herself during this morning's rigorous training. "That's quite an accomplishment. Would you like a parade in your honor?"

"I'd prefer to be ashes and honorably scattered in the Silent City," she slumped into the nearest chair. "In fact, call one of the Brothers. I think I'll need them to cure me of this exhaustion."

"Stop complaining," Hodge walked over to the table, setting down a plate of ham and swiss cheese sandwiches before pushing a mug of tisane towards her. "Drink that. It'll help."

"What did you do?" Alec asked, finally looking up from his bowl of leftover spaghetti and meatballs from last night. "You must've done something."

"I think Alec is the one that deserves the parade for stating the obvious so expertly," Jace nudged his parabatai in the shoulder. "That takes natural skill, you know."

Alec frowned at the boy just as Isabelle walked into the kitchen, her long black hair loose over her shoulders. Upon seeing Eva was present, she dashed to the table and hastily sat in the chair next to hers. "Who's the guy? Tell me everything!"

Eva widened her eyes at Izzy, silently telling her now was not the best time—Hodge was facing away from them towards the sink, but she saw just the slightest turn of his head in their direction. He was so nosey!

Thankfully, Izzy quickly understood and her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Yes, Eva, tell us about the guy," Jace prodded teasingly. "Did you at least find someone rich?"

"Yes, he's my sugar daddy," Eva tossed a handful of potato chips at him. He laughed, blocking the onslaught with his forearms. "You should get one too; I hear they like pretty boys with bitchy attitudes."

"Who are you calling pretty?" Jace frowned. "I'm beautiful."

"Children, please," Hodge sighed in exasperation. He placed a bowl of his homemade fruit cocktail next to the sandwiches and cringed when a potato chip crunched under the sole of his polished dress shoe, the sound seemingly running up his spine like a chill. "Can we get through one day without bickering and making a mess?"

When they finished lunch, Eva went straight for her room and collapsed on her bed. Izzy had followed at her heels and now sat on Eva's desk chair. She whipped her hair behind her shoulder and leaned back. "Start talking: who is he, where did you go, is he hot, what's he like, and most importantly—and I cannot stress it enough—what did you do?"

Eva answered her barrage of questions as best she could while she fought sleep: Raphael, don't know his last name but he's a vampire; we met up at The Nightfall and then went to Queens for a midnight snack at a Mexican place; I suppose he's attractive if you squint and turn your head; he's grumpy; we talked and I kissed him.

"And?" Izzy accentuated by rolling her wrists in the air. "Did you make out? Did he French kiss you? Did he push you away? Bring you closer? Did he grab your butt?"

"Your imagination is astounding," Eva groaned into her pillow. "It was quick and he didn't push me away; I was the one who pulled away."

"Why?"

"I was embarrassed; I didn't think I would do something like that," Eva said, blushing at the mere thought of his cold lips. "I never pictured my first kiss would be at 2 A.M. just down the street while he sat on his motorcycle— "

"He has a motorcycle?"

"Focus, Isabelle," Eva snapped. "He said he'd let me get away with that. What the hell does that mean?"

"Could mean he's considering you," Izzy looked up in thought. "It could also mean he thought about killing you for kissing him, but decided not to."

"Lovely."

Just then, Eva's phone chirped from its place on her nightstand. She didn't even bother to reach for it, not that she would've been fast enough to beat Izzy. She went for that phone like Church does on any bug stupid enough to sneak into the Institute.

"Add unromantic to his list of nonexistent qualities," Izzy scoffed, showing her the screen.

The Met. 9 P.M. Tonight. Be on time.

"He makes me swoon," Eva mumbled, her face buried in the pillow. "Text no for me, will you? I'm too tired—"

"Whoops," Izzy snapped the phone closed. Eva rolled her eyes; Izzy did the exact opposite. Her brows furrowed as she scanned Eva's despairing expression. "What's wrong? You didn't like him?"

"I don't know, Izzy. I barely know him, he's a Downworlder, and I just kissed him. It's embarrassing!"

"You say that now because it's your first time experiencing all this," Izzy smirked wickedly. "Wait till you get to the good parts."

"Yes, the butt-groping and the tongue-shoving down my throat sounds exhilarating," Eva pointed at the door. "Out. Let me sleep."

Izzy grinned and made her way out, quietly closing the door. Eva was asleep by the time Izzy had walked through the door frame, completely unaware of the message Izzy sent.

I'll get there when I get there.


Eva woke up from her long nap at around six P.M. She ventured down to the kitchens for one of the sandwiches left over from lunch earlier and then went back to her room for a royal blue long sleeved shirt, a bomber jacket, dark ripped jeans, chakram hoops, and a pair of suede heeled boots. She didn't bother with makeup and twisted her still-damp hair into a messy bun. After popping her head into the library to let Hodge know she was going out—he smiled softly in appreciation before giving his blessing—she headed out of the Institute at half past eight. It took her only fifteen minutes to arrive at the grand Metropolitan Museum of Art. Some people were sitting on the steps leading up to the museum, congregated in their little groups, mostly teenagers with nothing better to do or tourists making the best of their time in New York City.

Eva sat down on an empty step and waited, hugging her legs close to her chest. Her mind drifted off, reciting what she might say to Raphael about last night. Should she apologize? Should she even mention it? Will he mention it? And if he does bring it up first, what would be her response? Was it even a good idea to have a relationship with a Downworlder? Izzy does it, but she changes boyfriends like she changes clothes. Eva couldn't see herself doing that—Hodge always said romantic relationships and marriage were sacred and you should only give yourself to someone you truly love from the bottom of your heart.

"I swear, I will never understand women."

Eva would recognize that voice anywhere. Coming up the steps towards her was Raphael wearing a plain white t-shirt, black leather jacket, jeans, and his leather boots. His hair was gelled nicely and his eyes were sharp and ice cold as always.

"What did I do now?" She was thankful he wasn't awkward around her. In fact, he seemed very comfortable. "I got here early, or did you want me to get here on the dot?"

"You told me you'd get here when you'd get here," Raphael said. "I figured that meant I'd have to wait for you again so I didn't bother to get here early."

"What are you—" Eva stopped herself short, realizing Izzy was the cause of all this misunderstanding. "I didn't send that; my parabatai—Izzy—she sent it. She doesn't take well to guys telling her what to do, so she responded to you the way she would've responded if the message had been for her."

"Ah." The acidity that was in his tone a second ago dissolved away just as quickly. It was soft now and his shoulders dropped, releasing the tension. He was looking at one of the fountains flanking the Met. "Well, this is why I tolerate you."

He took the three steps that separated them and Eva felt her heart was in her throat when he towered in front of her. To her enormous shock, Raphael leaned forward, trying to take her lips with his. She instinctively pulled back, her cheeks burning and her hands trembling. He must've sensed her sudden movement, or smelled her pulse quickening just below her skin. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "I thought this was established."

"What?"

"Dios mio," he rolled his eyes. "Immortality makes you lose the patience for mind games and mixed signals and labeling and all that garbage kids worry themselves with," he said. "You kissed me last night, so I assumed it would be alright if I kissed you again. What's the problem?"

"I just didn't expect it," Eva blinked. Why was he rendering her speechless?

"We're past formalities at this point," he said. "But for your sake, I'll indulge your 21st-century teenager dating protocols."

"Which is?"

"Establishing what this is," he wagged his forefinger between the two of them. "Tell me what this is now, so I don't waste my time."

"So I'm just a plaything?" Eva pushed him away from her so firmly, he had to step down a level on the stairs. "Something to pass the time? Something to call when you're bored?"

"I don't want to waste my time, as in: if you're not serious, then I'm not interested."

"So you..." Eva couldn't believe the words tumbling from her lips. "You want a serious relationship? With me?"

"I have no patience for flings or no-strings attached arrangements; I wouldn't be here with you now if that's what this was."

"Why?"

"You and your questions," he said, though it left him more in amusement than in annoyance. "I thought I made it clear."

"Clear as a brick wall."

"You're different," Raphael shrugged. "You're the first Shadowhunter I've met that isn't completely annoying."

"I guess I do deserve a parade," she joked to herself. "You said you'd indulge my 21st-century teenager dating protocols, so as decreed by Article Two, Section B, there must be a courtship period where we go on dates and you bring me flowers—gardenias are my favorite, by the way—and we hold hands and you let me borrow your jackets—"

"I take it all back; you're the most irritating Shadowhunter I've ever had the displeasure of meeting."

"If you're extra nice tonight, I might even let you kiss me," Eva shrugged aloofly. "But I don't see that happening with your nasty attitude."

To her shock, he smirked. "I'm a vampire, Eva. I've learned to be very patient."

Oddly enough, she was disappointed. She had an overwhelming urge to kiss him.