AN: Sorry for not uploading in a while, life has gotten in the way but please let me know what you think? Maybe that will motivate me to keep writing.
CLARY POV:
Clary awoke to the sound of birds chirping insistently around her. She groggily opened her eyes in confusion to find herself lying on the floor of the tree house, Jace beside her. They must have moved closer together during the night, sharing the blanket, as her head rest upon his shoulder and one of his arms was draped over Clary. Their bodies were flush so she could feel the heat radiating from his, the soft material of his sweatpants against her bare legs. Clary flushed and carefully untangled herself from him before it hit her; it was Monday morning.
"Jace! Jace, wake up!" Clary hissed until he peeked an eye open, gazing up at her in confusion.
"Morning, sleeping beauty," he cocked a lopsided grin. "I like your hair." Clary self-consciously reached for her hair to find it in a messy bedhead tangle, before narrowing her eyes at him, her blush deepening.
"Could say the same, prince charming." She said, eyeing his mop of golden locks but was annoyed to notice that despite it's disheveled state, it still looked good, possibly even cuter than usual. Clary's gaze slid from his hair to find his golden eyes taking in her nightgown; it was a light purple with lace straps and exposed perhaps too much leg. It was probably the nicest nightwear she owned, thankfully she hadn't been wearing her Whinny The Pooh set again.
"We're late," Clary blurted out and his eyes flicked back up to hers.
"For what?"
"School!"
"Eh, it can wait."
"I'm not an astronomer, but I'm pretty sure that the Earth revolves around the Sun and not you, Jace."
Jace grinned at her. "Oh, but I'm as hot as the sun so surely that counts for something."
Clary rolled her eyes and reached out the tree house, for the branch to swing herself back onto her roof.
"Wait," Jace said, "I'll drive."
Ten minutes later Clary was sitting in the front seat of Jace's car.
"We're late for first period anyway so why not take a coffee stop, you're pretty much shaking from lack of caffeine, Clary."
"I am not." Clary held out a hand in proof. It shook.
"See."
"It's the road movements, doesn't count," Clary huffed but couldn't suppress the small smile that escaped her lips.
"You're so easy to wind up, carrot top."
"Carrot top? What are you, twelve?"
"Yeah, on a scale of one to ten."
Clary huffed again and glanced at him sideways. She didn't know if it was the mood or possibly her lack of sleep, but it was as if she was seeing him differently. In a new light in a literal sense, as the early morning rays created a visual symphony of his face; exposing him in all his glory and as if some God, or fate even, was giving Clary a sign. Also, a new light in a metaphorical sense; suddenly, a flip had been switched and Clary seeing what was in front of her for the first time. He was Jace, but suddenly his very name took on a new meaning when she thought it, wrapped in a fuzzy feeling of euphoria. In a split second, a thousand thoughts and feelings hit Clary at once.
"Clary?"
Clary blinked and realized Jace was parked outside the café.
"Sorry, what?"
"I asked what you wanted, unless you wanted to come with?"
"Oh, um, just a flat white please." She smiled at him for good measure and with an amused look, Jace went to go order.
"Oh dear, Clary," she spoke outloud in the empty truck, staring at her reflection in the window. "You're fucked."
WILL POV:
Humid Welsh air enveloped Will in a welcoming hug the moment he stepped off the plane. A warm breeze stirred the dark curls at the base of his neck and awoke his Welsh blood. He was home.
After making his was through airport security and claiming his luggage, Will tentatively made his way towards the arrival gate where his family would be waiting. Will hadn't seen them in eight years; eight years in which Will had grown from a boy to a young man. Would time make him a stranger to his family? Subconsciously, Will grazed his hand over the fine whisper of stubble scattered on his jawline; a hint at manhood.
Fear suddenly gripped Will in its vice, rooting him to the spot as he took in deep, shuddering breaths of stale airport air. Pushing through his fear, Will ground his teeth and rounded the corner. Without warning, a warm mass barreled into Will, causing the breath to be suddenly knocked out of him and he dropped the bag he was carrying.
"Will, it's really you! Oh, Will!" She released him slightly, enough so that he could peer into startlingly familiar blue eyes leaking a trail of glistening tears that ran down her creamy skin like pearls.
"Cecy," Will breathed, as he took in his younger sister, who wasn't the young girl she had been when Will had left. Cecily held him tight again and Will buried his head in her silky raven hair, smelling the familiar scent of their grapefruit shampoo and something else distinctly Cecily. When he looked up, Will saw his parents standing slightly afar, watching the siblings embrace with warm, heartfelt smiles.
Even though eight years had passed, Will was still startled to notice the grey that peppered his fathers once raven dark hair, the deep laugh lines marking the extra years of memories Will had missed out on. His father raised a hand in greeting and Lynette Herondale smiled at her son; trademark blue eyes twinkled and wrinkled around the corners. Cecily finally let Will go and led him towards their parents. He couldn't help but notice the cameras and trail of reporters lined up behind them, eager for the story of the prime ministers son returning home. Will inwardly grimaced but Cecily gave him a smug, sidelong glance. "Soak it in, brother."
A Mercedes arrived to pick them up and his luggage was loaded into the trunk. Soon enough, they had escaped the hub of the city and were zooming through the all-too-familiar Welsh countryside. Will wound the window down and leant partway out the frame, allowing soothing countryside air to wash over him, whipping his hair back. His Welsh blood sung with pure joy; rolling green hills stretched for as far as the eye could see and with a pang, Will realized how much he had missed Wales, how much he had missed home.
A while later, the car rolled up affront the Herondale estate, set among sweeping hills, acres of fields and trees. Will drew a breath as he took in the grand white pillars snaked with well-pruned vines, supporting three expansive floors. The gurgling water fountain greeted Will as the driver held the door open for him and he treaded up the cobblestone path that led to the house. Cecy eagerly grabbed his bags and ran ahead of him, beckoning over her shoulder as long, silky black hair flicked and trailed her like a cape.
The grand stairway was still decorated in photos; gilded frames containing frozen memories of him and Cecily – and – Ella. Will sucked in a breath as he stopped climbing the steps. His hand that had been gliding along the railing, reached out to the closest image of his older, dead sister. Will was hit with a wave of repressed sorrow as he drunk in the all the details of the photo, a moment frozen in place for eternity. Will had run away thinking he could leave it all behind him, only to find that the past awaited him back home. Old scars opened up to become fresh wounds. However, since then, Will had learnt how to face his burdens. He took the photo of Ella off the wall, extracted the glossy image it out of the frame and carefully tucked it in his pocket as he continued up the grand spiral stairway. With each step, both Will and Ella's photos started appearing less and less, frames filled by the older version of Cecily that Will was still getting used to, or otherwise, simply left empty.
Will's bedroom, situated at the end of the hallway overlooking the front gardens and driveway, looked the exact same as he had left it. Four grey walls – Will humorously noted that were close to the shade of Tessa's eyes -, a simple four-poster bed, desk and bookshelf crammed with an array of books.
"Welcome home, Will!" Cecily said cheerily from his window; the same window they had climbed out countless times as children to stargaze on the roof, to hide during games of hide and seek, or to spy on their parent's guests. Cecily's smile faltered, looking uneasy, as she following the path of a vehicle snaking up the driveway. "Will, there's something I should warn you about-"
"Will! Cecily! Come down for dinner, we have guests!" Their mother called from downstairs, her voice winding up the stairway and piercing Will's heart with it's aching familiarity. Cecily's throat bobbed as she swallowed her words, peering back out the window. In two strides Will was at Cecily's side and followed her gaze to see an unfamiliar, swish white limo idling in the drive.
Will quickly changed into appropriate evening wear, and then he made his way back down the spiralling staircase to the main dining room on the first floor. The maid whom Will recognised as Agatha, was laying plates of steaming entrées affront his parents, Cecily and three guests.
"Will," Lynette said, in her warm but clipped voice that Will had learnt to associate with business. "I'd like to introduce you to the Ashdown's." Will politely inclined his head in greeting, the way he'd been taught years ago as proper adequate. "And Miss Scarlett Ashdown, well, she is to be your fiancé."