"You can keep as quiet as you like, but one of these days somebody is going to find you."
Haruki Murakami
"Can we actually go somewhere for once?" Clary asked, her lips forming into a small frown. Jace glanced up momentarily, her pencil tucked behind his ear. He looked beyond cute. She decided not to say anything. They were sitting on a block of pavement outside the alleyway. The sun was up but snow still covered the grounds like a spill of powder. She shielded her eyes away.
Jace shrugged carelessly. "Where?"
"Anywhere but here. A coffee shop! Yea, I want some coffee right now. Come on." She replied, talking mostly to herself. She grabbed her backpack and shouldered it before walking forward. He didn't say much. He never did. When Clary saw that his footsteps were slow and deliberate, she waited for him then sauntered again.
"What's up with you?" She questioned, raising both her eyebrows. One eyebrow took too much effort. She found herself staring at the tip of his elbow. Her annoyance rose.
He bit his bottom lip, blazing tawny orbs watching the busy streets of New York. "Nothing."
Clary snorted, a stupid grin on her face. "Sure. You're a bad liar."
She caught his mouth curl after her statement. He pushed open the door for her and she slipped under his outstretched arm. They stood at the line. "Can we play a game?"
Jace looked startled, probably not expecting the question. "What game?"
"21 questions."
He clicked his tongue in understanding. "You're usin' that as an excuse to get information about me, right?"
Her cheeks colored and he laughed. After a moment or two, he agreed. "You go first."
"Where's your family?"
His jaw clenched. She took a step backwards hesitantly. "In California."
"Oh." She said quietly, trying to keep her thoughts organized.
"My turn." He started. Clary took the steaming cup of black coffee from the worker and sat at a nearby booth. "Siblings?"
"Only child."
"Why'd you leave your family?" She needed answers. This was probably the only way to get them.
He sighed like he was exhausted. "I didn't want to be near them."
Jace ran his hand through his hair. "How long have you lived in New York?" His questions were casual. Didn't he want to know more about her? Was he not interested?
"Born and raised." He nodded in appreciation.
"Why do you..." She struggled trying to form the words. "Why do you put up this mask? I mean-you're not really this cruel person. I know it. Why do you do it?"
He narrowed his eyes to slits. "You think you know me but you never will. I don't put up anything."
Clary swallowed a gulp of her tea, the heat reaching her chest.
"Where's the drawing you made of me?"
She almost dropped the hot liquid on her lap. "What drawing?"
He smirked. "I know you drew me. I saw the paper. Where is it?" When she didn't answer, he tapped his long fingers against the table's counter. "Play by the rules, red." That was the first time he'd ever called her 'red'. Was that her nickname now?
Scowling in embarrassment, Clary defiantly answered, "I didn't draw you and that's it."
He shook his head. She took the opportunity to strike. "Your mom, don't you miss her?"
His expression seemed to drop instantly. He stood up, pressed his hand against his pocket. "I've got to go." It came out as a snarl.
She watched as he stormed out, a little too quick for her to focus on him. Her breathing was a bit rapid. She had taken the game too far. Slinging her bookbag, she raced down the street and grabbed his arm. He whirled in surprise. "What?"
"The drawing...I have it here." She rummaged beneath her zipper and took out the crumbled portrait. She couldn't read what he was thinking.
He stared at her. "My mother wouldn't want me. Not for a million bucks, Clary." His voice was so soft it hurt to listen to.
"No mom would-"
"Just go home. I told you that the first time, didn't I? Don't think about me."
The world around her appeared to swirl. She tugged her coat tighter around her body. "So..so-you don't care? At all?"
"I do."
She was beyond exasperated. "Then why are you telling me to leave you alone?"
Jace released a breath. He twirled a piece of her hair on his finger like silk. "I don't know." And he sounded one hundred percent honest. "Shit. Do you really want to know?"
She nodded numbly, ears open. "I'm a dealer. I do drugs. I don't have a permanent house because I'll get sent to jail if police find me. I have no family except the people who give me money. I take out my anger on others because I can't stand it when they have things I don't."
It took her a long time to say something. Anything. "I don't care." It was a whisper.
"What?" He demanded, looking even more tired than usual.
"I said I don't care about anything you just said. I just want you."
"Repeat it."
She gave him a confused look. "I want you, Jace."
And he pulled her into the biggest hug a person could give. She gasped lightly and he let out this short laugh that warmed her whole body. "Fucking hell." She heard him say. "You're a good artist."
Maybe it was the fact that she didn't expect him to say that or because he was showing her his real side, either way, it caused Clary to choke on her laughter and the both of them held their stomachs for what seemed like hours.
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