"You know, that was kind of harsh, Jace."

His gaze stayed on the closed door for a moment. He eventually turned on Isabelle, still standing in the middle of the room. "You didn't seem to think so when you were enjoying it so much."

"I didn't say it wasn't hilarious. It was just harsh."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes and thrusting his hand in his hair. "Some friend you are."

Jace sighed, turning and walking towards Clary's bed. There were plenty of other places for him to sit as he really took in what just happened, but for some reason he wanted to be there. He lied down on the sheets, blankets, and pillows, pushing some stuffed puppy aside and stared up at the ceiling in silence.

He was an idiot. He was such a fucking idiot. Any other time in his life, that whole get up would've been amusing to him. The California boy he used to be would've just laughed it off when she left, smiling and high fiving his friends that would've been around. He wished he could be that none caring, egotistical, ignorant to love kid that he once was. It was so much easier when he never cared. It didn't mean he was a huge asshole. He just didn't care enough to get hurt. He didn't care.

That's how he felt at first tonight too. When he started on his idea about the night to her, it was like he was finally back to his old self. The - playful, sarcastic, let's have some banter - Jace that never cared enough to get hurt. He wasn't being disrespectful, just honest. And when she dished it back at him now and then, he found it playful. It just made him want to aggravate her more, because for some reason he found it hot as hell. An angry Clary is a sexy Clary, no matter how much he hated the idea. He was already in too deep with just fighting with her, and he didn't need it to get any worse than it already was. There would never, ever be anything between them.

Jace sighed again, closing his eyes and picturing her face. The curls, the green eyes, the freckles, the anger, the hatred, the frustration. No, there could never be anything between them. It wouldn't end well for either of them.

It wasn't easy to think like that. It was necessary, but it was far from easy. Whenever Jace saw her, his body just felt like it gravitated toward her. He thanked God above for his self-control, but he'd never had to test his control until this stupid redhead waltz into his life without a care in the world. Everything she did seem to catch his eye. The simplest movements would be the things he remembered. The way her lip stuck out when she pouted if she felt inferior. The way she'd tilt her head to flip her hair at him, like it proved her to be a better person or something. The way she walked. The way her lips moved when she talked. The way she looked up to her friends, to Isabelle, like they were the answer to everything. She really leaned on them, but then again, she was the most independent person he'd ever met. He'd never had to deal with someone so contradictory before. It was driving him mad.

Out of the corner of his mind, he just really hoped she didn't go running to Sebastian's room when she left the suite. The last thing he wanted to think about was Seb getting the girl that Jace wanted. That he shouldn't want, but wanted nonetheless.

"Where do you think she went?" he inquired, tilting his head to look at Isabelle.

She was back on her phone again, reading a new message before nodding slowly. "Simon said she just showed up at his room." She immediately started texting at the speed of light back to him.

"Is she mad at me?"

"I would be."

He took that as a yes and glanced back at the ceiling. That was his plan, right? He wanted her to be mad so that nothing would start between them. Keep the distance and make it longer.

It had worked too. She didn't kiss him earlier, even though every fiber in his being told him to grab her and force her to. It was a test, one that he hated but had to do. The plan to keep them separated was escalating quickly and swiftly. What he wouldn't give to actually kiss those lips for once, though. Just to taste her how he wanted to. But if he got a taste, he'd want the whole fucking thing. He couldn't do that. He shouldn't.

"Yup," Isabelle chuckled. "She's so pissed."

Jace's jaw tightened. "How bad?"

"I'd say on a scale of one to ten, she's a fifty. Her exact words were: 'Tell that fucking prick to never speak to me again or God so help me, I will rip his balls off and feed them to the dogs.'"

Jace sat straight up. "She said that?"

Isabelle nodded.

"Fuck." He collapsed back on the bed, grabbing pillow and placing it over his face.

"Don't be so upset, Jace. I thought that this was what you wanted. That's why I egged it on."

"It is what I wanted," he mumbled into the sweet scent of Clary's pillow. It smelled like tropics mixed with strawberries, probably from her hair.

He heard Isabelle put her phone on the desk beside her, the bed squeaking underneath her as she moved. "But?..."

"That's all I got."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Jace groaned in frustration. "I don't know." He pulled the pillow away, placing it back on the bed and rolling over to face his only real friend at school. "That's the issue. I don't want her to like me, to care about me. It makes this easier if she doesn't. It's better if she never wanted to see or speak to me again."

Isabelle sighed, leaning forward on her elbows. "Jace, I know that what ever happened to your dad was rough to you, but Clary isn't like that. She's not all about hurting people. She's way too compassionate for that. You can't think she's like every other girl. She's not your mother."

"Obviously. I wouldn't be attracted to my mother."

Isabelle's eyes turned cold. "You know what I mean."

"I do, but it doesn't make it anymore possible." He pointed to himself, actually disgusted inside. "I'm not the guy that can handle a real relationship, and she's the girl that deserves that."

"And you think she'll get that from whom exactly?" Isabelle pointed out. "Sebastian? He's nothing but trash. At least you have some good points to you. She's just going to be heartbroken when that jackass feels like he's tired of her."

Jace shrugged, hugging a stray pillow to his chest. He took a deep breath, praying that day never came for her sake. He wasn't sure he could see her go through pain like that. "Maybe that won't happen. Maybe he won't fuck it up."

Isabelle groaned, pulling at her hair. "Jace, you're being stupid. Of course he's going to fuck it up. He's Sebastian Verlac!"

"She seemed happy with him when she came back last night," he shot back with animosity. He didn't want to think about what she said after about him, but he had to get that point across. "She really was. So, I don't know, maybe–"

He was suddenly struck in the head with a small, stuffed pony.

"You don't believe that."

Jace slowly pulled the pony away from his face, glad he had the decency to close his eyes before the assault had hit him and dropped the animal to the floor. "Yes. I do."

"She put on a face for us to try to convince us that he's a decent guy," Isabelle said. She crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back against the wall. "She knows that I hate Sebastian more than anything, so she'll say anything for me to give him a chance. Hell, she probably rehearsed all that on the way over after he fought with her again."

Jace's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

Isabelle nodded, then bit her lip and paused. "I mean, it's a theory. She can't be seriously happy with him. Otherwise she would've gone to his place tonight instead of Simon's." She paused, looking down at her nails. "It only makes sense."

Regret pulsed through Jace like a bass drum, thumping through his whole being down to his toes. Isabelle, sadly, was right. He had so many emotions at that point inside of him, running like rivers in different directions, trying to find their way to the shore where they can be shone. He refused to let them, ever, but it was getting harder and harder to hold his emotions in as they started to overflow. It was like the glass was filling too high, and one day he'd fall apart as they spilled over.

He let out an exasperated breath, burying his head in the pillow at his chest in order to hide the feelings on his face. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what he ever wanted. He knew he wanted her, but he wasn't sure he wanted the whole, dramatic, sarcastic package that came with her.

He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "She's just so aggravating," he continued. "I can't be with someone like that. Not permanently."

"Yes you can."

"No. I. Can't."

"Have you ever tried?" Isabelle asked. "Have you ever tried to be with someone who didn't give you everything you wanted every second of the day? Have you ever been with someone who didn't worship the ground you walk on?"

He dropped his hands to the bed, thinking back to his time in California. Jessica. Ramona. Marina. Taylor. Becky. They were all easy. Hell, he practically made them his bitch with just one kiss. If he ever needed anything, they were up for it, no matter how ridiculous the request. It was like he was a King to them. That loathsome redhead he was so infatuated by didn't think quite as much of him as his past experiences had. Hell, he was probably a peasant in her eyes. A useless piece of man that didn't even deserve a look from her, especially after his last little fiasco.

And he couldn't help but agree with her. He was a little shit.

"NO! Fucking – no man, don't run in there! Sto – God dammit. Who threw that damn grenade? Someone cover my ass. Hey, jackass with the machine gun, stop throwing those fucking grenades and killing our team. Someone boot this prick from the game. Fucking pussy is making us lose."

Clary whistled in shock from the head of Simon's bed, her body leaning against the pillows between her and the wall, shaking her head before looking back down to her phone. "This game really brings out the worst in people, doesn't it?"

Simon ducked – like the throwing knife was actually coming for his face – and moved along with his controller at the edge of his bed. He stripped the headset off, tossing it aside. "You just don't get it. It's not just a game."

"Let me guess. It's a lifestyle?" she teased in her best Simon voice.

He shook his head, his wet hair from his earlier shower spraying water across the sheets. It dripped down the back of his bare torso, turning the light grey to almost black. "Shut up."

She didn't. "I just don't get it. Why are you so intrigued by something that pisses you off so much? I feel like it just causes you to get angry for no reason. It's like your torturing yourself on purpose."

"Unbelievable," Simon muttered under his breath. She didn't think he expected her to hear him, but she did.

"What's so unbelievable?"

"You."

"What did I do?"

Simon sighed as the game finally ended, the final scores popping up on the screen. Simon dropped his controller to the bed, twisting and placing one knee on the mattress as he turned back to Clary. She was suddenly really worried about his answer, not really sure what she should expect. "You need to start listening to your own advice."

She furrowed her brows in a frown. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Sebastian." He said it like it was obvious.

There was a knock at Simon's door, and he stood to grab it, leaving Clary with her thoughts. What did Sebastian have to do with video games? Sebastian hated video games more than anything. Well, not more than anything, because she was sure that bastard Jace had gotten the number one seat in that list. Not to mention he was pretty high up on hers too.

"We still on for tomorrow?"

Maia. Clary pulled her knees to her chest in confusion as Simon blocked her view from her friend. He nodded with his back to Clary. "Yeah, I'll just be in here whenever you want to come over."

"Okay." There was a pause. "Is she okay?" Clary barely heard Maia whisper it.

Simon sighed, shrugging one shoulder. He lowered his voice, probably trying to keep Clary out of the conversation but it wasn't working too well. She leaned closer, trying to hear what they were saying. "Not at first. She's getting better now. He really did a number on her." Clary looked to the ground when Simon turned, acting like she wasn't paying attention, but then he turned back to Maia. "Now she's at least back to her usual banter, but we'll see how long it lasts."

"You know he's still in her room?"

Simon suddenly stiffened. Clary's eyes widened as well. "Is he really?" he asked. "What's the point in that?"

"I don't know. Isabelle said they've talked about what happened for like thirty minutes, and then he just kind of fell asleep in Clary's bed. Apparently he's really upset about it."

Simon shook his head, looking at the floor. His hand went up, pulling at his wet, brown hair. "Do you actually believe that?"

Maia laughed once. "No way in hell."

"Me either. It's probably just some game he's trying to play. I can't believe that Isabelle is actually falling for it. I hate the fact that she's friends with someone like him."

"I tried to warn her, but she seems to think he's a good guy."

"Yeah, well, she isn't the best judge of character," Simon muttered.

She blanked out after that, agreeing with Simon completely but focusing on something else entirely. Clary's heart started racing at the prospect of Jace in her bed, and she fell back against the pillows, staring at the sheets with a blank expression.

He was still there? Currently, at – she glanced at Simon's bedside clock – one in the morning? Why didn't he just go back to his room? What did he and Isabelle have to talk about? Why didn't Isabelle kick his ass out? Sure, she wasn't going back tonight, but the idea of him sleeping with her stuff, with her sheets, on her bed sent a mix of feelings through her body.

She shut off the ones that she knew were useless. The butterflies, the longing, the wanting, the nervousness. She suppressed them as much as possible as she tried to get the picture out of her head. The last thing she wanted to think about was what she could be doing with him in that bed, which wasn't a good prospect either. Instead, she tried to think about how much she actually hated him. How seeing him was like walking into hell every time. It made it a bit easier to deal with, bringing the worse feelings to the surface instead, but she still couldn't stop herself from thinking about him.

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow," Simon announced as he shut his door, locking it and turning back to Clary. "So, I guess you're staying here for the night?"

She pulled her legs to her chest, the sheets and blankets coming with her and wrapped her arms around it all. "If you don't mind."

"You know I don't," he smiled, coming to sit beside her now. He grabbed the remote, turning the TV and Xbox off before sliding in next to her in his pajama bottoms, keeping plenty of distance between them.

She didn't loosen up. "Simon, what did you mean earlier?"

"About what?"

"About Sebastian."

Simon sighed, reaching over and grabbing his phone to set the alarm for the morning. "Isn't it obvious?"

She shook her head.

He sighed, placing his phone back and sitting against eth headboard as well. "You said earlier that I'm basically glutting for punishment by playing with something that just puts me in a bad mood right?"

She nodded, not getting where the conversation was going.

"You've been doing that with Sebastian the whole time you've been… doing what you do. You've changed since you've started seeing him."

She looked away, glancing towards the sheets and picking at it with her fingers. "That's different."

"Is it?"

"Yes."

He sighed. "How so?"

"Because Sebastian actually makes me happy sometimes. He can be really sweet when things are going well, and we have fun."

Simon shook his head, laughing and pulling his glasses off. He placed them down on the table, rubbing his eyes with both hands. "Yeah, well, when things go well with Call of Duty, I'm just as happy. It still pisses me off more than anything though. But when things go south, I know when to quit." She felt his gaze burn into her. "Do you?"

He didn't wait for her to answer. The lights were suddenly turned off, and she felt him sink down into the bed, pulling the covers with him.

Reluctantly, she slid herself down and grabbed a pillow, hugging it as she rested her head on it. The darkness caused her mind to racing, running all the way back to her room, to her bed, to Jace. She knows she shouldn't be thinking about him, not now and not ever, but he was the last thing that caught her mind as she fell asleep.

That, and Simon's stupid question: I know when to quit. Do you?

Did she?

Well, I know it isn't very long, but I feel like the last chapter needed a short one for a bit of an explanation. Sorry if you want more, but I've already got another chapter in progress so you'll get it soon! :) stay tuned.