The white of Josephine's dress almost matched the pallor of her skin. She had gone sickly pale, and had stopped eating as regularly as she should. But the one thing that hadn't changed were her training sessions. Jose could never let them fall away. In a trance-like state, Jose tugged on her little white heels, not really caring if they went with her long sleeved white dress that ended mid-calf. Yanking her brown and blonde hair into a pony-tail, she surveyed herself in the mirror. She had mousey hair that had streaks of blonde and heterochromiatic eyes, meaning one was the colour ice, and the other a moss green. Jose knew she was average in looks, but she made up for that in her talent for fighting. She was already one of the most advanced Nephillim in the Idris school, at only aged thirteen. Many Shadowhunters had offered to tutor her, but she had always declined. She almost left the room, but decided on smearing gothic red lipstick on before leaving. This funeral was going to be a long one.
The girl with the different coloured eyes had captivated Maryse's attention as soon as she had seen her. The way she screamed after her father's death was raw and enchanting, in the most horrific way possible. Maryse knew that she wouldn't stay open forever. Soon, she would build walls around herself, turning the other way until there was no one left the break them down. It is grief's way of making itself known. Seeing the Perilshore girl now, stoney faced as Connor's body descended into the grave, Maryse couldn't help feel a wave of remorse. Connor had been fighting a demon when Sebastian pulled the trigger on him. How he had managed to make the gun work was beyond the Lightwood woman. Once the service was completed, the girl kneeled silently by the grave. Maryse gave a sigh and left her to her thoughts.
Jace wanted to say something to her, anything. Her sadness was etched on every feature, right to her sagging shoulders. She sat in the dirt, obviously not caring about staining her white dress. Jace walked over silently, cat-like, to extend a hand. The girl looked up, surprised, but took it none the less.
"I'm Jace. Jace Lightwood."
"Jose- Josephine Perilshore."
"A pleasure to meet you, and my apologies as to what happened to your father." Jace said in his most sincere voice possible. Jose smiled sadly at him.
"Thank you for being most kind."
Jace leaned down so that his hands rested on his knees and that him and Jose were face to face.
"I was there. Your father dies a hero, and he shall live on as such."
"Don't worry, I know. My papa was never one to go down without a fight."
Jace smiled and slipped a piece of paper into her hand.