A/N Hi everyone! Posting this slightly later than initially planned, but I did manage to spend Christmas with my mum after not seeing her since March which was amazing! This is just a fluffy little Clace one-shot, I hope you enjoy. Let me know your thoughts in the reviews.

Happy New Year to you all! Keep an eye out for the next update to TWT ASAP :)

December 23rd – 2.30pm

I knew I was screwed.

Outside of my apartment, the world was a snow globe. A blizzard had hit the city so hard over night that the familiar sights of Brooklyn had been all but erased by inches upon inches of snowfall. I watched helplessly as thick, palm sized snowflakes fell, unrelenting, from the swirling, steel sky and sighed.

It wasn't that I disliked snow; Christmas had always been my favourite holiday and a dusting of snowfall usually made it even more magical. I loved the crisp, fresh smell of winter, the bite of cold air against my skin, and the way the snow clung to the trees as thick as frosting. I loved ice-skating in Central Park, Christmas shopping, and having snowball fights with the neighbourhood kids. I especially loved putting up my tree and decorating every inch of the apartment in sparkling lights and garlands whilst wrapping up warm in the tackiest Christmas sweater I could find.

But this snowfall wasn't a dusting by any standard. This was an avalanche. An avalanche that meant the flight that was supposed to take me to my mom's house for the holidays had been cancelled. I'd banged my forehead against the glass windows in frustration more times that morning than I'd care to admit.

I'd held out for as long as I could, waiting to see if, by some miracle, the snow would stop enough for the flight to go ahead, but my one and only Christmas wish hadn't been answered. I had been doomed to remain stuck in my apartment with no way of getting to my mom's new house halfway across the country for the foreseeable future.

I pulled my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans and slowly tapped in her number, dreading the conversation that was about to happen. She answered on the second ring.

"Clary!" my mom, Jocelyn, sang down the phone, "Hey there sweetie! What time will your flight be getting in? We can't wait to see you!" the excitement in her voice almost killed me off there and then.

I'd inherited my love for the holidays from my mom. I could hear Christmas songs playing in the background of the call; could almost smell the cookies she'd be baking. I had a very vivid picture in my head of Luke, my stepfather, and my now five-year-old twin brothers stealing dough and dipping their fingers in frosting slyly when mom wasn't looking. It made my heart ache. I was usually with them, egging them on.

I exhaled the breath I'd been holding and ripped off the band aid.

"Mom, my flight's been cancelled."

Mom was silent for a moment before she responded. In an unexpected twist, her voice was as upbeat as usual, "Have they rescheduled you? Does that mean you'll get here tomorrow?"

My mood grew darker still. I turned away from the window and looked miserably at my suitcase, packed and ready to go by the front door.

"I'm really not sure, but I don't think so. A blizzard hit the city last night, all flights in and out are off."

"Oh honey, you can't be serious! Could you hire a car?"

I raised my eyes to the ceiling with a sigh, "You know I can't drive, mom. Besides, the roads are too dangerous. Even the Greyhound is off."

"I'm sorry, Clary." my mom said quietly on the other end of the line. She had paused the music, all cheer sapped from her voice, "The main thing is that you stay safe. We'll celebrate when you can get here. We won't do Christmas without you."

"Don't do that mom, the boys are so excited. Maybe the weather will clear up soon and I can still get there in time." I said with all the fake optimism I could muster, knowing that although it wasn't completely impossible, it was still entirely improbable.

"Right," mom said, her tone business like, "Keep an ear on the news, and keep us updated."

"I will, mom." I promised and pushed my long, auburn hair out of my face, swallowing my sadness as best I could. Once we'd said our goodbyes, I tossed my phone onto the couch with a frustrated groan. I quickly followed suit and slumped back as far as I could go, letting misery consume me.

At least it couldn't get any worse.

December 23rd – 6pm

I swore at the ceiling, my voice shriller than a banshee, when the power winked out in my apartment.

The storm had continued to mock me by raging on all afternoon, not letting up for even a second. At around four, I'd received an update from the airline that confirmed no flights would be going ahead as scheduled until further notice. Refunds would be offered. Apologies for the inconvenience.

As if they could control the weather.

In a bid to cheer myself up, I'd unpacked the garish Christmas onesie my mother had bought me the year beforehand and had stripped in the middle of the living room, not bothering to close the curtains because, I'd reasoned, if anyone actually managed to spot me through the blizzard they deserved a good show. I'd zipped it up triumphantly over my underwear and gazed at my reflection in the mirror.

I couldn't help but laugh. I looked ridiculous; the onesie was part of a matching family set and was styled to look like a Christmas elf, complete with candy stripe legs, a pompom hat and bells sewn on to my pointed feet. Ridiculous or not though, it did help me feel infinitely more festive. I turned on all the twinkle lights in the apartment, wrapped a decorative garland around my neck like a festive feather boa, poured myself a more than generous glass of wine, and put on the cheesiest Hallmark Christmas movie I could find.

One moment I was gagging at the sickly-sweet love story that was unfolding on the TV (and loving every second of it), and the next I was plunged into darkness. I let out a surprised yelp and felt around the couch for my phone. When I finally grasped it, I fumbled quickly for the torch and set my wine glass down. Outside, from what I could tell through the offending snowstorm, the grid was entirely dark. Cue the swearing.

Once I was finished, I pulled myself to my feet and stalked into the small open plan kitchen at the back of the room. I grabbed a candle lighter from a draw and worked my way around the apartment systematically, lighting candles until I was happy that I'd be able to walk around without killing myself – inevitable fire aside of course.

I snatched up my wine glass again and threw back the rest of its contents in one go, silently fuming. Without a second thought, I poured another and was almost halfway through it, glaring moodily out into the snowstorm in the dim candlelight, when there was a knock on my door.

I raised an eyebrow, unfolding myself slowly from the couch with my glass still in hand. I shuffled across the floor, the bells on my toes jingling with every step.

"Hello?" I asked curiously, lifting on to the balls of my feet so I could take a look through the peephole. I wobbled slightly, the wine taking its toll already, and saw nothing except a dark shadow on the other side, backlit by the emergency lighting in the hallway.

"It's me, Titch. Open up." A muffled, familiar voice said.

I smiled.

Around a month earlier, I'd struck up a somewhat unconventional friendship with my new neighbour across the hall. He'd moved in not long after Madame Dorothea had traded up her cramped third-floor apartment for a swanky new retirement centre. I'd been enjoying a rare Saturday morning lie in for the first time in ages; Madame Dorothea was great, but she was going deaf in her old age and played music on an ancient gramophone so loud it woke me up at six most mornings. I'd wanted to take full advantage of the blessed silence, so when I woke up at eight thirty I'd rolled myself up in my blankets like a burrito and had just opened a new book when I heard a man cursing the sun, the stars and all that was holy at the top of his lungs in the hallway.

I'd reluctantly crawled out of bed and peeked my head out of the front door to investigate, still wrapped in my blanket with an awful case of bed head and more than a little curiosity. I'd found him sprawled on the floor in front of his open apartment door, inspecting his rapidly swelling foot. A hefty looking end table lay on the ground beside him, and his face was like thunder.

After a tense thirty minutes where I'd quickly introduced myself and launched into a routine of turning and prodding his foot along to a rousing chorus of profanity, I'd declared it to be, in my humble and entirely unqualified opinion, most likely broken. Shortly after that, I'd called him a cab and escorted him to the hospital so a real medical professional could help.

When we'd got back to the building later that afternoon with him on crutches, his fractured foot strapped up in a moonboot for the next six weeks, and a strange, newfound comradery between the pair of us, I'd pity-offered to help him unpack and we'd been something like friends ever since.

We'd settled into an odd routine; I'd help him with his grocery shopping, and he'd cook for me once or twice a week after work, and we watched a lot of movies. Sometimes we hung out with his brother and sister or my best friend Simon if they came to visit, but mostly it was just the two of us.

I opened the door and leaned against the wooden frame with a bland smile, swilling the wine around in my glass.

"I told you not to call me that, Jace." I reminded him pointedly. He gave me a lopsided grin and shifted his weight on his crutches.

"I heard you yelling. I came to investigate." His voice was smooth as silk.

The main issue I had with my new friend was not how infuriatingly sarcastic he could be, but how handsome he was. More and more over the weeks of our peculiar friendship I found myself daydreaming about him, particularly when work was slower in the afternoons. My mind wandered idly, wondering what it might feel like if he kissed me, if he...

Well, both he and the daydreams were extremely distracting.

Jace was tall and lean, standing almost a whole foot higher than me barefoot. His face was angular and tanned, and framed by a halo of tousled dark blond hair that curled seemingly uncontrollably at the ends. His most hypnotising feature, however, were his eyes. They were expressive and curious, and the most unusual shade of gold I'd ever seen. He looked a lot like an angel with a devil's personality.

He noticed me staring and his lips twitched, amused. I cleared my throat.

"That was like, ten minutes ago. I could have been dead by now." I said quickly with a roll of my eyes and a small smile. I took a swig of my wine as he laughed; it lit up his whole face.

"Are you okay? For a minute there I didn't know if the power had actually cut or if you were in the middle of performing an exorcism." he teased.

"I'm fine. I was just cursing the universe, you're safe." I told him, waving him into the apartment. He manoeuvred himself through the doorway, kicked the door shut with his boot-clad foot and hopped across the room. He planted himself on my couch, dropping the crutches on the floor as he turned to look at me with a now familiar flicker of mischief in his eyes.

"Titch, I have a very important question." He announced as I grabbed him a glass of wine. I hadn't asked if he was planning on staying, but I figured he had nothing better to do during a power cut.

"Shoot." I said, pointedly ignoring the nickname. He'd given it to me after he'd watched me try – and fail – to reach the top shelf of his kitchen cupboards whilst we were organising his stuff a few days after he'd moved in. In the end, he'd laughed so much at my feeble reaching attempts that I'd resorted to clambering on to the countertops. I'd had the ultimate satisfaction of seeing his eyes twitch at the sight of my feet on the faux marble.

I wasn't actually sure if he'd ever called me by my real name. I wondered how it would sound if he did.

"What the hell are you wearing? You look like you've just been evicted from the North Pole." He leaned on the back of the couch, watching me with a smirk. I adjusted the garland around my neck and made extra effort to ring the bells on my feet as I crossed the room. I stopped to pose in front of him, brandishing the wine glass in his face.

"Oh this old thing? It's sexy right?" I laughed, twirling on the spot.

"Yes, yes, very sexy. Really jingles my bells." He said mockingly. I snickered and threw myself on the couch beside him.

"I'm trying to cheer myself up." I explained, "Remember I told you I was supposed to be going to my mom's? The flight was cancelled 'cause of the storm. Doesn't look like I'll get back for Christmas." I finished with a sigh.

"I thought that might have happened." He shot me an apologetic look over the rim of his glass.

I nudged him with my elbow, "I know what you're really doing here."

He quirked an eyebrow, "Oh, you do?"

"You were worried about me, weren't you? You're really here because you wanted to check in on me." I teased.

He huffed out a laugh and shrugged, "You were excited."

"You talk a good game, Jace, but I see you. There's a heart in there somewhere. I bet you're all gooey on the inside." I crossed my legs and faced him on the couch, my grin widening. He scoffed and waved me off.

"Hardly. I just didn't want your bad mood ruining my zen."

I rolled my eyes and thumped him gently with the pillow I was hugging, "Admit it, you were being a good friend."

Jace's lips tugged at the edges and he raised a single eyebrow in my direction as he hummed, "Friends?"

I scowled, "If you're not willing to admit we're friends at this point you can spit that wine out."

Jace laughed again, his eyes crinkling, "At ease, Titch. We're friends."

We sat in companionable silence for a long moment, watching the snow fall. I caught him smiling at me out of the corner of my eye and I grinned into my glass, feeling a weightlessness wash over me.

I blamed the wine.

"So what are you doing for Christmas? You didn't say." I asked him eventually to take my mind away from the warm tingles in my chest. He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair.

"Nothing much. I know I shouldn't say this to a girl dressed in an elf suit, but I don't really care for the holidays. My parents work, Izzy is seeing friends out of state and Alec will be with his boyfriend. I'll probably just order takeout and watch Netflix."

I pulled a face like there was a bad smell under my nose, "You don't like the holidays? Seriously, I want my wine back." I snatched his glass from his hands and moved to take a sip. He snickered and plucked it back between his thumb and forefinger as the rim met my lips.

"I just find the whole thing tedious." He explained with a shrug, "People spend so much money. They get themselves in to debt buying presents that people either don't need or don't want, and hoard food that no one ends up eating. It's always just felt like a competition to me."

My eyebrows furrowed and I leaned forward, "But what about the time you get to spend with family? The memories you can make?"

He shrugged with a small smile, "I can see them whenever I want. I can make memories three hundred and sixty-five days of the year. I don't need a dude in a red jacket and some gift wrapping to do that."

"You're such a Scrooge." I told him indignantly. Jace was about to argue back when the lights suddenly flickered back on one by one. When I heard the sound of the central heating kicking in again, I let out a victory cry and turned to him, grinning.

"You better not have any plans tonight," I told him, my eyes glittering, "because we have a date with the Hallmark Channel and I'm not letting you leave until I've seen you glow with holiday spirit."

Jace laughed loudly and made a show of getting himself comfortable, casting me a smirk, "Fine, but you're gonna be stuck with me for a while. I hope you're prepared for that."

December 23rd – 11.27pm

"I'm just saying, just because it's set at Christmas doesn't automatically make it a Christmas movie!"

Jace shook his head with an incredulous look, "C'mon, the whole movie happens between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. He brings presents. He dresses a bad guy in a Santa hat and a sweater that says 'ho-ho-ho'. How can that not be a Christmas film?"

I pulled a face, squinting up at him through my wine haze. I was lying on my back with my head on his lap and my legs dangling over the arm of the couch. Our wine glasses, now empty, were abandoned on the floor along with the three bottles we'd polished off. I had meant to save those for New Years.

"He put's those things on a dead body. And doesn't that sweater say something about a machine gun? That's not super festive." I reasoned, throwing my arms up in the air.

Jace groaned, "This argument is pointless. You're impossible to convince."

"I don't need to be convinced when I'm already right." I pointed out matter-of-factly. He snorted and yanked the rim of the elf hat, which I'd pulled on to his head hours earlier, down over his eyes.

"It's the best Christmas movie ever made." He huffed. I noticed that his cheeks had turned a little red; I reached up and prodded one gently with a slender finger.

"You're drunk." I told him. His mouth slid into a lazy grin.

"Look who's talking." He told me as he grabbed my hand and pulled it away from his face, lacing his fingers between my own. He brought it down to rest on my stomach and squeezed my fingers gently.

"You tired?"

I shook my head, eyeing up our intertwined hands with drunken curiosity, then remembered he couldn't see me.

"Not really. You?"

"Nah," he said, and lifted the hat out of his eyes again. He looked down at me, his eyes flicking to our intertwined hands for a second, "I'm hungry though."

"Don't look at me, I've got almost nothing edible left. I didn't expect to be here, remember?" I sighed, "I've been eating every crumb of food in this place for the last two weeks. All I've got left is some dried pasta and a box of oatmeal…I'll starve before the snow clears up."

He laughed and let go of my hand; it's absence made me feel a little more sober. He gently shifted me off of his knee and stood up, grabbing his crutches from the floor.

"That's no good." He told me, his tone business like as he made his way to the front door. I watched him retreat over the top of the couch, missing the warmth of his body already.

"Wait here." He told me as he pulled down the door handle, "And while I'm gone I want you to seriously reassess your opinions of Die Hard."

"It's a good movie, just not for Christmas!" I called after him. The door shut with a soft click and I heard him chuckle from the hallway. I grinned to myself, feeling my heart skip a little faster, and pressed my face into a pillow, where I stayed until he returned with a bag of supplies a couple of minutes later. He leaned the crutches against the wall and hobbled his way towards the kitchen to upturn the contents of the bag on to the counter.

"Whatcha' bring me?" I asked, rolling off of the couch so I could follow my stomach towards the food.

"Prepare to be amazed." He told me, glancing up from his random assortment of chips, dip, cheese and crackers. As if on cue, my stomach growled loudly. I flushed as Jace smirked.

"You go sit before you eat my hand." He ordered me.

"But will you be able to carry the-" I started to ask, glancing at his foot. He clicked his tongue and shooed me away.

"It's fine Titch. Why don't you find another movie to torment me with? Scram."

I raised an eyebrow but did as he suggested, shuffling back to the couch to flick through movies. Nothing stood out, until I saw Bruce Willis' face fill the screen on a familiar movie poster. Against my better judgement, and in a suddenly pressing bid to make him smile, I selected the movie and paused it so he couldn't see the title.

True to his word, Jace reappeared a couple of minutes later with a plate of artfully arranged snacks in hand. His boot thumped on the floorboards with every step, but he didn't wince every time it hit the floor anymore. I smiled at him as he approached.

"What are we watching?" he asked, his voice already resigned, as he set the plate down on the table. He turned to look at me, and with a giggle I reached across the gap between us and yanked the hat down over his eyes yet again.

"You'll see." I said cheerfully as I took his hand and pulled him onto the couch next to me.

December 24th – 4.48am

I woke up groggily, feeling like I hadn't even been asleep in the first place. My head was pounding, my mouth drier than the Sahara Desert, and my limbs felt as stiff as frozen shadows from the chill in the air. It took me a long moment to realise that I must have fallen asleep on the couch and an even longer moment to realise that there was someone else with me.

I noticed with a sudden, burning flush in my cheeks that I was curled up against Jace's side. My head rested in the warm gap between his neck and shoulder and my fist was balled up in the front of his sweater. One of his arms was wrapped tightly around my waist with a firm hand splayed against my hip holding me in place. His eyes were closed; long lashes fluttered against the thin skin beneath his eyes as he breathed quietly in his sleep. I reached up to touch his parted lips but thought better of it as quickly as the idea had barrelled into my mind. Instead, I reached behind me for the blanket I'd draped across the back of the couch; I tried to move as gently as possible but Jace still stirred.

His golden eyes opened a crack and found mine. They glowed softly, reflecting the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree that stood, still illuminated, in the corner of the room. The light made his face appear softer than normal. I had another sudden urge to reach up and touch him, to run my hands over his soft skin, but I fought it back.

He smiled sleepily.

"Titch." he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, "Y'okay?"

I nodded quietly and wrapped the blanket around him as best I could, fully intending on slipping away to my own bed.

"Go back to sleep." He told me, his eyes already closed again. He leaned backwards and nestled into the corner of the couch, pulling me with him so I was half-lying on top of his chest. His hand ran sleepily through the curls of my hair and he pulled the blanket over the pair of us. After one last look at his face, I closed my eyes too.

December 24th – 8.52am

Jace placed the pot of coffee between us and we fought for who got first pour. He eventually let me win, probably after seeing the almost feral look in my eyes.

"Why did you let me drink so much? I feel gross." I asked him grumpily after I'd taken my first greedy sip. He laughed and gave me an incredulous look as I hugged the mug to my chest. He was rumpled and tired, but content now he had his coffee in hand. He'd definitely fared a lot better than I had in the great game of hangovers and didn't seem to feel awkward about our unplanned sleeping arrangements at all. I, on the other hand, couldn't quite bring myself to look directly at him.

We'd eventually woken up about fifteen minutes beforehand, tangled up in each other on the couch. I had been lying on my stomach, almost fully on top of him like he was a makeshift mattress. When I'd looked up, I'd realised to my horror that his eyes were already open. He'd simply smiled as I'd dislodged myself with a yelp.

"Let you?" he leaned back in his chair with a stretch and grinned, "You were practically pouring the bottle down our throats. There was no stopping you."

I rolled my eyes then swiftly sucked in a breath through my teeth, regretting the sudden movement. He laughed loudly while I grimaced, rubbing my temples with a pathetic groan.

"Stop with the loud noises. I'm fragile." My voice came out in a whine; I could see him fighting back his smile.

"Sorry," he whispered dramatically, holding his hands up in front of him. I flopped forward on to the table and rested my forehead on the cool surface.

"This is going to be the worst Christmas Eve ever." I mumbled.

Jace was quiet for a minute while he sipped his coffee. Eventually he set the mug down and looked at me, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Have there been any more updates on your flight?"

I nodded grimly and pushed my phone towards him, open on a news article confirming that the airports would remain closed and were unlikely to start up flights again until the day after Christmas.

"Not happening." I said, trying not to think about the phone call I needed to make to my mom. Even just saying the words to him felt like a knife twisting in my gut. I hadn't seen my family in months; disappointment didn't even cut it.

Jace read the article quickly and set the phone back down, his mouth set in a grimace.

"I'm sorry, Titch."

I pulled myself up with a shrug and took a large gulp of my coffee, "Can't be helped, and other people will be having it way worse than me." I sighed, "I might have to join you for that takeout tomorrow though, if you're up for a party crasher? I promise I won't force any more holiday cheer on you."

"Scrooge doesn't do guests." He teased half-heartedly and I gave him a watery smile, pausing for a moment before I spoke again.

"Do you maybe want to hang out today?" my voice was tentative as I pushed my hair out of my face, "You're not my mom or my brothers, but you'll do, I guess."

Jace smiled at the joke, but shook his head with an apologetic sigh, "I can't. I have some things I need to take care of before the holidays that can't wait. Maybe later?"

"Ah," I forced a smile back to him and swallowed my disappointment, "that's okay. You're horrible company anyway."

Jace pushed himself out of his chair and chugged the rest of his coffee. He looked at me, a strange look that I couldn't quite read, then quickly grabbed his crutches and swung around the table so he was at my side. I watched him approach with a raised eyebrow and, to my surprise, he bent down and dropped a quick kiss on my cheek. I flushed red despite myself and he turned away almost immediately.

"See you later, Titch."

"Have a good day." I told him quietly, watching as he retreated across the room.

He gave me one final smile over his shoulder, then disappeared.

December 24th – 3.30pm

After I'd called my mom with the update and apologised profusely to my screaming kid brothers for 'ruining their Christmas' (their words, not mine), I spent all morning curled up in bed nursing my hangover beneath the duvet. I tried to avoid thinking about the bleak state of my first Christmas alone, but luckily there was one topic that proved pretty effective at taking my mind away from it.

I let my memories take me back to the night before and thought about how it had felt to curl up against Jace's side, the feel of his hands as they ran unconsciously through my hair while he slept, the way my stomach twisted when his skin touched mine even for a second.

I really wasn't sure when I'd started to feel more than friendship and simple attraction towards Jace, but if I hadn't been certain about my feelings before, I was now that my skin turned to gooseflesh from just the thought of him. I couldn't help but feel at least a little hope. Sometimes I caught him looking at me when he thought I wasn't paying attention, and he seemed to seek out opportunities to hang out with me when he didn't need to. There were all those little touches, his hand on my back and in my hair, that kiss on the cheek that lingered a little closer to the corner of my mouth than it should have. Sure, they could be friendly gestures but…

I knew I shouldn't get too far ahead of myself, but I spent the next few hours thinking about it regardless.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, I decided I'd done enough moping and fantasizing for one day and dragged myself out of bed. I figured I should at least take my mom's advice and try to salvage my Christmas as best as possible given the circumstances. It was still my holiday, snow be damned.

I started by taking a bath. I lounged in the bubbles for over an hour, letting the water and candles heal my sore head and warm my chilled bones. After that I pampered myself; I hooked my phone up to the speaker in my bedroom and cranked up the Christmas songs, singing along loudly as I coated the nails on my fingers and toes in glittering red and gold paint. I carefully dried and curled my hair and put on some makeup, then pulled on a red, woollen sweater that said 'Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal' over a black mini skirt and tights.

When I was finished, I took a picture in front of the tree and sent it to my mom and, after some consideration and a lot of self-encouragement, Jace.

I was tucking into a bowl of oatmeal, considering the merits of risking the blizzard outside to see if the bodega down the street was open to get literally anything better to eat, when my phone vibrated on the table. I glanced at it, my heart skipping when I saw the name on the screen. I snatched it up with a goofy smile as I answered.

"Hi neighbour. How's your very important business coming along?"

He didn't bother to greet me before he spoke, his voice a little breathless, "Open your door."

Then the line went dead.

I raised an eyebrow and stood up, gladly abandoning the gloopy oatmeal in favour of investigating. I bounced to the door with more enthusiasm that I'd shown all day and yanked it open.

Jace stood on the other side, soaked through, shivering and covered in snow. The first thing I noticed was that the tip of his nose, the only thing that didn't seem to have been covered up by either his hat, his hood or his scarf, had turned red and I smiled despite myself. The second thing I noticed was that he was surrounded by a pile of grocery bags. I stared at them, confused. When I eventually glanced back at him he was grinning sheepishly.

"What's all this?" I asked him, gesturing at the bags.

"Nothing much." He shrugged, pulling off his hat so he could shake the snow from it.

"Jace, is this…?" I bent down and peered into the closest bag and sucked in a breath. It was brimming with food; at a glance I could see a small turkey, mounds of vegetables and what looked like an impressive cheeseboard. In another bag there were more bottles of wine, an apple pie and, honestly, who knew what else. My mouth popped open as my brain caught up.

"Did you bring me Christmas dinner?" I demanded with a gasp. I looked up at him as he fiddled awkwardly with his crutches.

"Thought it might cheer you up."

I couldn't speak, even if I'd wanted to. Instead, I leapt over the bags and threw my arms around his neck, not caring that he was covered in snow or that I almost knocked him off his crutches. I hugged him as tightly as I could, feeling my eyes start to sting as I nestled my face against his neck.

"Thank you." I whispered eventually, "Thank you so much."

He tried to hug me back, but his crutches made it difficult. I sniffed out a laugh, feeling one of the poles hit against my legs. I stepped away, wiping rogue tears away from my eyes.

"Where did you get all this? How the hell did you carry it through a blizzard with a broken foot? How is your neck not broken?" I asked him with a bemused laugh.

"I called in a couple favours." He shrugged, giving me a small smile, "Alec and Magnus helped."

"Are they here?" I said, looking down the hallway towards the elevator for any sign of Jace's brother and his boyfriend.

"Nah, they left me to fend for myself downstairs. They had to get back."

I shook my head in disbelief, not quite sure what to do with myself.

"Should we get these inside?" he suggested. I nodded, my mouth dry.

"I'll sort this out." I scooped up a few bags and backed into the doorway, "You need to dry off and get changed. You look freezing."

"See you in a minute?" he asked, looking grateful. I nodded with a smile that could have split my face in half.

"Let yourself in."

December 24th – 4pm

By the time Jace walked through the door, I'd unpacked all the supplies he'd brought me and was standing with my head in my hands, squealing as I looked through my fingers at the small pile of ingredients on the counter. He took one look at me and froze, his eyes wide and full of questions. I laughed at the nervous look on his face.

"Are we making cookies?" I asked, biting on my lip to stop the stupid smile from spreading further across my face. It didn't work.

"You said it was your favourite thing to do on Christmas Eve." He said simply, as if what he'd done was the most natural thing in the world, "Magnus told me I have to apologise, by the way. The dough is the premade stuff and they only had blue and yellow frosting. We might have to get a little creative."

"It doesn't matter. You literally have no idea how much this means to me." I told him honestly, meeting his eyes. He grinned as he limped across the room, and I had to double take as he got closer. I cocked my head, squinting.

"Is that a Christmas sweater, Mr Scrooge?" I asked in disbelief.

"That depends on if you're finally willing to admit that Die Hard is a Christmas movie." He laughed, holding his arms out so I could get a better look at him. The sweater was grey and had the words 'now I have a machine gun, ho-ho-ho' printed in bright red font, just like the sweater from the movie.

"Where did you get that?" I snorted.

"Alec bought it for me a few years ago." He pushed himself up to sit on the counter and watched me as I buzzed happily around the small kitchen, grabbing cookie cutters and greasing up trays, "As you can imagine, it's been stuffed away in the back of my closet for a while."

"All you need now is the Santa hat." I smirked. He raised an eyebrow and lifted his hip, producing a fluffy red hat from his back pocket. He waved it in front of me like he'd just pulled a rabbit from a top hat.

"You mean like this one?" he said as he pulled it on. I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up in my throat. He looked ridiculous.

He looked incredible.

"So, Santa, are you gonna help me with these cookies or what?" I asked him, my hands on my hips and butterflies raging in my stomach.

December 24th – 7.12pm

"I don't feel so good."

We'd resumed our positions on the couch some time ago; I was sprawled across it with my legs over Jace's knees, and the tray that had once held a mountain of cookies rested on top of my stomach, now only home to dust and crumbs. The whole apartment was lit up with fairy lights and White Christmas was playing on the TV, though neither of us paid it too much attention. It was different from my usual family Christmas, but kind of perfect in its own strange, new way. Even the snow outside had stopped dampening my mood. I felt like I was glowing.

"I've never eaten that much sugar in one sitting. Ever." Jace told me, wincing as he shifted uncomfortably. I laughed, then groaned in quick succession.

"Will you still speak to me if I barf on you?" I asked as I grabbed the tray and placed it on the floor, too full to bother reaching the extra inches to set it on the table. He patted my feet gently and gave me a small nod, his eyes closed.

"S'fine." He mumbled, "Try to avoid the sweater though."

I chuckled softly as I pushed myself up, massaging my sore stomach. I crossed my legs and glanced at him.

"Jace?" I said, my voice a little hesitant. He cracked a single amber eye open.

"Yes, Titch?"

"Thank you."

He closed his eyes again and smiled quietly, "You've told me that at least ten thousand times already. It's not a big deal." He pointed out.

"I mean… it kind of is."

Something about my tone, soft and genuine, caught his attention. Both eyes opened, and he sat up properly on the couch so he was facing me too. His attentive eyes scanned my face as he waited for me to continue.

"People don't just do things like that." I chewed on my next words before I asked, "Why did you?"

"I wanted to." He said simply with a single raised eyebrow, as if that explained everything.

"Why did you want to?" I pressed. He looked just as taken aback from the sudden urgency in my voice as I was.

"I don't know Titch, because we're friends? You were upset and I wanted to help." He said, his hand running through his hair. Jace wasn't the kind of person to blush, but I could have sworn that even for a second his face was redder than it had been. I swallowed, feeling brave.

"Just friends?" I asked quietly, echoing his question from the night before.

He didn't speak. Instead, he looked at me – really looked at me – and we stayed completely silent. The air around us suddenly felt thick, as if it were holding its breath in anticipation. I felt like I'd been pinned to the spot by his stare; he searched every inch of my face, drifting between my eyes, my lips, and everywhere in-between, before catching my gaze again. I felt like I'd been hypnotised, I hadn't realised how close we were until I could suddenly see each of the light freckles on his eyelids.

His hand slowly rose to rest against my burning cheek, lingering when my breath hitched in my throat. I leaned into his palm with a quiet sigh, feeling my heart beating in my chest like the fluttering of hummingbirds wings. Then our foreheads were touching, and suddenly his mouth wasn't even an inch away from mine; I met his eyes and he smiled, a small quirk at the corner of his mouth, as he moved to close the agonising gap.

His lips had just grazed mine when my cell phone buzzed on the table in front of us, shattering the spell we'd been under in to a thousand tense pieces. I gasped at the shock of the noise and we both turned to look at my mom's face flashing on the small screen, the incoming video call demanding my attention. I closed my eyes and let out a dizzying breath, trying to control my erratic breathing as I slowly backed away and pushed my hair out of my face with unsteady hands.

"I should take this." I told him, my voice hardly audible. He nodded distractedly, his hands balled into fists at his side.

"'Course. Do you want me to-?" he was already halfway out of his seat.

"No!" I cut in a little too loudly, my hand reaching for his arm; the last thing I wanted was for him to leave. I blinked and started again, "No. Stay?" I asked him. He let out a long breath and nodded with a small smile as he settled back into the couch.

I snatched my phone from the table and slid my finger across the screen, holding the camera up in front of me as I rearranged my face into a smile. My heart was still fluttering in my chest, the hummingbird trying to escape from my ribcage, as my inner voice screamed in both delight and frustration.

When the call connected I was greeted by what looked like the inside one of the twins' nostrils. Jace laughed softly at my side and bumped his knee against mine. I caught his eye with a blush and returned his smile, feeling myself relax.

December 24th – 11.56pm

We'd spent almost two hours on the video call with my family and if Jace had minded, he didn't say or do anything to give it away. I think he could tell how much I appreciated it, and by the end I was sure he was enjoying himself. He was great the whole time, joining in with jokes and entertaining my brothers to no end with stories from when he was their age. They hung on to his every word, sticky little faces pressed against the screen.

I'd introduced him as my neighbour – something that had made Jace smirk at his knees with raised eyebrows – and gushed to my mom and Luke about how he'd braved the blizzard to bring me a Christmas feast, blushing harder with every word. When they'd showered him with thanks and praise, he'd shrugged modestly and told them it was worth it.

They'd already heard about him, of course. It wasn't often I escorted someone to the hospital within the first hour of meeting them, so the story had been a great anecdote for our usual Sunday afternoon family facetime. They'd been quick to check in on his broken foot, and of course the boys wanted to see his crutches so he'd happily obliged.

At one point I'd caught my mom and Luke sharing a not-so-subtle knowing smile as we'd taken it in turns to tell my brothers about the bright blue and yellow sugar cookie Christmas trees we'd made that afternoon in great detail.

I hoped he hadn't noticed.

When the call finally ended, with both my mom and Luke each holding a sleeping twin on their laps as they whispered promises of recording them opening their presents, Jace and I quickly agreed to watch another movie. Neither of us mentioned the moment before the phone had interrupted us, but neither of us seemed willing to end the evening early either.

We didn't touch each other throughout the whole movie, but the air around us buzzed with electric tension; I felt the current prickling beneath my skin like a livewire. I caught him looking at me a few times but rather than let him keep thinking I hadn't noticed, I turned and looked him dead in the eyes. He'd raised an eyebrow with a winsome smile then turned his attention back to the TV.

When the end credits rolled just before midnight, Jace unfolded himself from the couch with a stretch and slowly started to gather his things. I trailed behind him when he moved to see himself out, chewing on my bottom lip.

"Thanks again for today." I told him as he grabbed for the door handle. He turned and shrugged with that signature half-smile of his.

"Are you ever going to stop saying thank you?" his voice was teasing but his eyes, soft and creased happily at the corners, told a different story. I tilted my chin up towards him with a grin and took a step forward.

"I will, but only when I actually stop being grateful. Which, by my calculation, will happen on approximately the twelfth of literally never."

Jace laughed quietly, "Good to know, Titch."

We looked at each other for a long moment; the spark threatened to burst into flames. I took another small step forward.

"We should get some sleep." I mused, tugging on the hem of my sweater. He nodded in sombre agreement and leaned against the door.

"We should. Big day tomorrow." His lips twitched.

"That turkey won't cook itself." I pointed out.

"We'll need to be well rested to tackle that." His golden eyes slid to my mouth again as I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. The hummingbird was back with a vengeance in my chest.

"Well," I said with a cheerful smile, "Goodni-"

I was silenced suddenly by his lips meeting mine.

December 25th 12.01am

He dropped his crutches to the floor with a clatter and pulled me close until my body was flush against his, one hand flat against the small of my back and the other tangled in my hair. He kissed me softly at first, his mouth melting against mine as my eyes fluttered closed. I wound my arms around his neck, feeling his silky hair slide beneath my fingertips as I rose on to my tiptoes so I could bring myself as close to him as possible. The slightest trace of stubble rubbed against my face, but I didn't care. It felt amazing. Kissing him felt amazing.

Every nerve ending in my body threatened to short circuit; he was everywhere. My fists balled in his hair and I tugged him closer, deepening the kiss with an open mouth. His hands ran a rampage across my body; they caressed my arms, tangled in my hair, cupped my face, danced down my back, and in their wake they left a trail of white-hot sparks. I'd always thought it was cliche when people said a kiss could be life altering, earth shattering, but I finally understood. There were no fireworks or angel chorus, but we fit in a way I'd never fit with anyone before and it was practically magic. In the back of my mind, all I could think about was how I was glad he was holding on to me so tightly, because I was sure my knees would give out if he weren't.

It was over too soon; we each pulled away, breathing heavily but never taking our eyes off of each other. I touched my fingertips to my lips gently and smiled.

"Well, that was worth the wait." Jace said with a soft laugh, bending his neck so he could rest his forehead against mine. I raised an eyebrow, a smirk taking over my own lips.

"The wait?" I asked him. He laughed, a delicious sound low in his throat, and pushed my hair behind my ear.

"I've wanted to do that pretty much since the day we met."

My mouth popped open slightly and I frowned, thumping his chest lightly with my fist as I demanded, "You mean we could have been doing that this whole time?"

He pressed his mouth gently against my lips and mumbled "I suppose that means we've got a lot of lost time to make up for."

I shuddered, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end in the most delicious way at the sound of the promise in his voice and the feel of his fingers as they ran down the side of my neck.

"I suppose you're right."

He pressed one final lingering kiss against my mouth before he bent to pick up his crutches again.

"You're leaving?" I asked him, hearing the not so faint note of disappointment in my voice.

"I was serious when I said you'd need to be well rested for tomorrow." He winked and I had a feeling he was absolutely not talking about cooking dinner. I felt the heat spread across my face and he glanced at me as he stepped into the hallway, the corners of his lips fighting a losing battle against a smile. I looked away so that mischievous look of his couldn't spread any further, but before I could stop myself I had already glanced back.

"Merry Christmas, Clary." He told me, tugging on his Santa hat once more with a beaming smile.

I was in bed by the time I realised that, for the first time, he'd called me by my real name. I rolled over in the darkness and watched the storm rage on between the gap in the curtains with a content smile.

Thank god for snow.