Summer Term
Summary: "...He's supposedly the hottie professor of the summer." "Ew, Izzy." "Don't tell me you wouldn't bang a hot professor."
Disclaimer: The Mortal Instruments and all its associated characters, places and events all belong to Cassandra Clare and the copyright holders. This is a non-profit fan work and no copyright infringement is intended.
Acknowledgement: The person who you guys should bow down to and kiss her feet is ddpjclaf. This chapter would not have been possible without her. Thank you, ddpjclaf, for holding my hand through this and not giving up on me (even though I sure was ready to)! I'm so happy to have you as my beta and friend. I love you to the moon and back. xo
A/N: Oh. God. This chapter was such a pain to write. I had it done about a month ago, but I wasn't happy with it. Thankfully, ddpjclaf helped me (a lot, guys, a lot), and then I was FINALLY happy with this chapter once it was edited and prettified and polished. So I think it's safe to say it's one of my favorite ones so far. I really hope you guys like it. Also, it's a long one, so go grab a snack or something while you read. :)
**Trigger warning: the first scene contains material that may be a trigger for those who are sensitive to assault of a sexual nature.**
Chapter Six: I Think I Will
"Surprise," said Seb, his arms held out open for her.
Clary stood frozen, still comprehending who was situated in the middle of her living room. When she finally did, she wasted no time running up to him and throwing her arms around his neck. Seb squeezed her and she elicited a small yelp as his hands slid down her sides to rest on her waist.
"I've missed you so damn much, babe," he whispered, his lips dangerously close to hers. She felt his breath wash over her and she shivered.
She'd missed him too. She'd missed him so much. The feel of his arms around her. How he always made her comfortable and safe.
Until his hands slowly snaked down her body, moving to a territory Clary was uneasy with.
"Whoa, Seb," she said, grabbing his arms and directing his hands back up to rest on her hips once more. She tightened her hold on him so he didn't try to grope her ass again. "You just got here. What's the rush?"
Clary looked up into his dark eyes, burning with determination and lust. Her stomach dropped to the floor, and she tried to swallow the disquiet away. This was Sebastian. Her Sebastian. Someone she'd known for a long time, someone she could trust.
With that thought in mind, she tried to smile. "I thought you were going to be here in a couple days. How come you're early?"
Sebastian easily freed his hands from her hold and tugged her against him again, his fingers digging into her flesh hard. Clary bit her lip to stop herself from whimpering in pain.
"I told you," he said, his voice rougher than before. "I missed you. Didn't you miss me, babe?"
"O-of c-course I d-did," she replied.
He smiled, but it wasn't the one Clary was used to. It wasn't the warm grin that made her feel like the luckiest girl in the world. It was harder, wrong, and definitely not familiar. "Did you really?"
Clary nodded, not wanting to risk stuttering again. She didn't want him to know he was scaring her. That she was feeling hesitant about this whole situation, about him being here like this, about him acting the way he was.
"Tell me."
She blinked. "W-what?"
Sebastian trailed his hand over her fingers and up her arm, reaching Clary's shirt in no time. "Tell me you missed me." He slid her sleeve over her shoulder and she shivered involuntarily. She felt his breath wash over her skin and cringed.
"I—I," she barely managed to get out before his mouth was on her skin, sucking and licking her flesh, which reminded Clary of a dog trying to get her attention. She quickly pushed the thought away. That wasn't any way to think about her boyfriend. Her boyfriend. Boyfriend. Usually him giving her attention like this was endearing. She'd been craving this ever since she'd left him in California.
"Yes?" He mumbled into her skin, his mouth moving across her chest and resting on her collarbone.
"I missed you," she whispered.
And before she knew it, Sebastian pulled back. He smiled at her again—that same unfamiliar, dangerous smile—and slid his hand down to enlace his fingers with hers as he made to lead her toward the stairs.
Clary wanted to say no, to stop him from going where she knew he wanted to go, but at the same time, she didn't. She didn't know what she wanted. She felt disoriented from the speed at which Seb was guiding her. Clary was sure if his hands hadn't been all over her, his body holding her up, she'd have tripped and fallen, breaking a leg or both.
Once they reached the top, Seb glanced back at her, the question evident in his dark eyes: Which room is yours?
Clary nodded to the door on her left, even though the question still swirled in her mind: Do I want this?
Without a moment of hesitation, Sebastian threw open the door and ushered Clary inside, their feet tangling and tripping over each other, his hands impatiently grasping at her ass and his lips sucking the skin of her neck.
Before she knew what was happening, Seb pushed her roughly onto the bed. Air whooshed from her lungs and she glanced up at him, half-afraid and half-impressed. She'd never seen this side of him, this… predatory, possessive side. She couldn't decide whether she liked him like this or not.
He climbed on after her, his legs straddling her waist. Clary's heart sped and panic shot through her. He was all around her. Everywhere she looked: on top of her. On either side of her. And when she glanced up at him, there was something aggressive in the way he stared back into her eyes. Something that screamed at her to be careful, to tell him to stop, but no words came out. They were stuck, frozen, just like her.
Sebastian reached up to brush a stray curl that had fallen to her face. His hands were soft, gentle, just like she was accustomed to, and she relaxed slightly, thinking maybe she was overreacting.
"I've been thinking about this, about you, like this, for so long," he said, caressing her face so lightly, so lovingly, Clary almost forgot the way he'd been pushing her moments before. "I've wanted you since the day I met you." His fingers slid down her face to her neck, and lower, brushing the sides of her breasts and waist, until he reached the hem of her shirt. He tugged it upward, letting it rest just under the edge of her bra to reveal her skin before lowering his mouth to her flesh and planting wet, sloppy kisses up her stomach.
Clary's breathing hitched and her abdomen tightened. "Seb, maybe we should—"
Sebastian shifted up and crashed his mouth down on hers, hard and rough, cutting her off and hurting her lip. "Don't talk, babe. All we ever do is talk."
Fear skittered up her spine at his words, but he didn't give her any more time to think about them. Instead, his tongue slipped inside, and his taste filled her—the taste she'd longed for since she'd left—and she caved, her arms sliding around his neck and savoring his passionate kisses.
They continued to kiss, Sebastian's growing deeper and rougher, whereas Clary's were slow, hesitant. She wanted to enjoy this kissing. She wanted to enjoy the feel of him against her. But his hard and deep kissing made it almost impossible. Before long, Clary had to break off to catch her breath and ease her mind. It wasn't the same for Sebastian, who seemed to have an endless amount of energy. His hands were everywhere: brushing her hair away, gripping at her waist, groping at her breasts, and suddenly, they were unbuttoning her capris. She tried to calm herself to enjoy the moment, to enjoy what he was doing to her, but she couldn't rid the feeling of wrongness in her gut.
Sebastian pulled down her capris, bringing Clary back to the present. Panic shot through her but she couldn't move. She couldn't do anything but watch what he was doing to her. He fingered the material of her panties and tugged at them, teasingly, but when he looked at her, there was a predatory air about his stare.
"Wait, Seb—"
"No, no, please don't tell me to stop," he said, his voice desperate as he leaned down to kiss on her mouth. "I can't wait anymore. I need you. Now."
"But—"
Clary heard a slight tear and watched as her panties were strewn across the room.
"Oh God, Clary," Sebastian said, his voice full of lust. "I need you so damn much."
A shudder ran up Clary's spine. She didn't like how he was making her feel, what he was doing to her. She didn't like how his hands spread over her thighs, how he touched her possessively and with such aggressiveness, how his fingers dug in and pushed her legs apart. A quiet whimper escaped her lips as his nails bit into her skin. And then, as if it couldn't get any worse, his fingers moved up, slipping over and inside her most private area, a place she'd never let anyone touch before. Panic flooded her veins and she could no longer move, no longer speak.
Clary was barely aware of Sebastian's reassuring words, of the way he was soothing her and promising she'd "feel good soon" and she'd "enjoy it so much, I promise." She was scarcely cognizant of anything except the intense need to get him off of her, out of her, and away from her. Without another thought, she kicked out at him and shoved him back, which successfully dulled the aching sensations that had started in the pit of her stomach and lower.
She threw herself off the bed immediately and crossed the room to look for her panties, with Sebastian on her heels.
"What the hell, Clary?" he said angrily. "We haven't been together in weeks."
But Clary wasn't listening to a single word he said. She needed to find her underwear and get the hell out of there.
Pink. They were pink. She needed to find the pink, lacey—
"Dammit, Clary. What the hell are you doing?" And suddenly she was being spun to face him. She glanced down at her arm where he held her tightly and a red-hot flare of anger washed over her.
Clary blinked up at him and noticed his mouth moving. He was saying something else. His face was contorted, his dark brows pinched together. But she couldn't focus on the words. This wasn't her Sebastian. This wasn't the boy she'd fallen for. She had no idea where that boy was, but this wasn't him.
She tried yanking her hand back, but it was futile. He had an iron grip on her. "Let me go, Sebastian."
"No." His mouth set in a straight line. "You owe me this, for making me wait, for teasing me for months."
Rage filled Clary. "You asshole." Her fist clenched and she raised her free hand to strike him, but his eyes followed her movement and stopped her from getting the chance.
Sebastian squeezed her wrist, but his face softened, along with his voice. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't—I'm sorry. I just missed you, is all. I missed how it was between us. I missed kissing you. I just want us to be together. Just you and me."
Clary quivered with anger. "You and me, huh?"
Seb loosened his grasp on her and grinned. "That's all I want, honey. You and me."
Clary didn't wait for him to lead her to the bed again. Instead, she lifted her knee and struck it home—straight in his groin. A guttural noise escaped from Sebastian's throat—the most unattractive sound she'd ever heard him make—and he dropped to the floor, holding his junk.
She bent at the waist, their faces mere inches apart. Anger, confusion, and pain flashed across his. "Three things, Sebastian Verlac. First, don't ever touch a girl unless she asks you to—especially there. Second, don't call me 'honey'. And third, I'm not a tease and I don't owe you a damn thing, no matter how long we've been together." Clary straightened herself. "I don't want you to call me ever again. We're done."
His eyes hardened, but he didn't say a word. He just groaned and stayed on the ground.
Clary turned her back to him and quickly walked to her closet, feeling more and more uncomfortable every minute she was there with him. She needed to get out of there, away from him. She pulled out new underwear—just because she wasn't thrilled about searching for her old pair while Sebastian was in her room—and shorts with a black tank top. She grabbed her phone and purse before glancing at Seb, who avoided looking at her. Clary headed for the door.
She paused, her hand resting on the doorknob. Turning back, she said, "Make sure you're gone by the time I come back. I don't want to have to kick you again." And then she turned away from him for the last time, storming down the stairs and out of her house.
Clary stood in front of New York Adorned, her hands still shaking after what had happened with Sebastian. No matter what she did, she couldn't stop thinking about how he had touched her. How he had looked at her. How he hadn't seemed like the guy she'd thought she'd known. How could things have changed so drastically between them? It seemed like just yesterday they were the happy-go-lucky couple, but today's visit brought an end to that. She couldn't rid the thoughts from her head.
Staring up at the sign over the door, Clary groaned. She didn't want to be here. She wanted to leave. Maybe go for a walk instead of "be spontaneous and live", like Isabelle had said. But Clary had had enough spontaneity for one day. She'd been mauled by an overly hormonal boy and then kneed him in the balls. What could be more spontaneous than that? But Isabelle had something else in mind, and Clary supposed she was partially to blame for this.
When she'd called Isabelle to tell her about what had happened between her and Sebastian, her best friend was furious. She wanted to "cut his balls off and feed them to sharks" and "kick him in the face, repeatedly". But Clary explained that she'd taken care of it and she was feeling much better, even though she wasn't. She wanted to go back home and take a shower. She wanted to wash away all the lingering dirtiness she felt and just get clean. The only thing she felt right now was dirty, slutty. Like a whore.
Clary knew it was wrong to think of it that way. She hadn't done anything to be ashamed of. She wasn't the one who'd pushed herself on anyone, and she was in a relationship, after all. People tend to do a lot of physical things when they're with someone exclusively. But Seb knew Clary wasn't ready to do anything besides kiss. She wasn't sure why, but she felt as if she wanted to save herself for the one. Yes, she realized how foolish and ridiculous she sounded, but she couldn't not follow what her heart told her to do. So seeing this side of Sebastian confused her. Why had he wanted to rush into this when he knew that she wasn't ready for anything else? Why was he so eager to do something that resulted in a very sore pair of nuts?
Clary sucked in a painful breath. She had to remind herself she was here. Not back in her house. She had to stop thinking about touches that made her shudder and kisses that made her want to gag.
So she forced herself to control her thoughts and focus on where she was now. After her call to Izzy, she found herself standing in front of a tattoo and a piercing shop. Alone.
She was supposed to be here with Isabelle, but her friend hadn't arrived yet. Simple things such as that distracted Clary, if only for even a moment. But she was glad for that, because if she didn't think about anything other than her ruined relationship, then she was going to lose it. And Clary hated crying and breaking down in front of anyone. She was determined to keep strong, to move on, and to concentrate on other aspects of her life.
So Clary thought about Izzy, who was running late. It wasn't that Clary didn't know that Izzy always ran late, but Isabelle also knew Clary despised it when her best friend wasn't punctual. She also didn't understand why, of all places, Izzy wanted her to be here.
Just as Clary was about to call her best friend, she heard the clapping of feet against the concrete from behind her.
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It was a little strange that Clary knew from the sound of Isabelle's footfall that it was she, but that was how their relationship was. They were basically long-lost sisters to each other, had it not been for their vast differences in looks and the fact that they shared no common genetic material.
Clary spun on her heels to find a seething Isabelle standing in front of her. Her dark hair, which seemed to have been in a loose bun earlier, had fallen to her face and she was muttering obscene words under her breath—some of which Clary caught.
"What's wrong?" Clary asked, her brows furrowing. She didn't have a clue why Isabelle would be in the shape she was right now. But then a name ran through her mind: Simon. Did he do something to her? Hurt her best friend? She swore to God if he did anything to Izzy, she'd kick his ass. But Izzy was fully capable of kicking asses—that she was sure of.
"Sebastian," Izzy spat the name.
Clary's eyes widened. "What did he do to you?" The words barely spilled from her mouth. If that asshole had somehow gotten to Isabelle and inflicted pain on her, he was going to pay. There was no question about that. If there was one thing Clary couldn't tolerate, it was someone hurting her best friend, because it was as good as abusing her.
Izzy waved her question off. "Oh, nothing really. I went to your house and found him still in your bedroom, so I decided I needed to give him a warm welcome."
It felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach, leaving her breathless and in pain. Just as Clary had thought she was doing better with the Sebastian-deal, Isabelle brought it up. Clary tried to compose herself and quirked her brows, waiting for Isabelle to reveal the rest. When she didn't, Clary asked, "And?"
Izzy's face broke into a grin. "The doctors are treating his broken nose as we speak."
Her mouth dropped open. "Y-you… his nose—nose… is what?" Clary was having trouble processing this information. She tried imagining her best friend, as infuriated as the fiery pits in hell, in her room, screaming profanities in Sebastian's face before performing the deed, which caused him to end up in the ER.
"Broken," Izzy replied helpfully, with no sound of remorse in her voice.
Clary was still speechless. Still couldn't comprehend how or when—but she stopped herself from thinking about it more. Right now, she was ridiculously happy that she had a friend like Izzy. Someone she could count on. More than her own blood.
"Thanks," Clary finally said, a smile slowly forming on her lips.
Isabelle shrugged. "It was actually really easy. That boy didn't see it coming."
Clary laughed. "I bet. So," she said, desperately trying to change the subject. She was done talking about Sebastian now. She needed to be. "What are we doing here?"
Izzy didn't answer. Instead, she grabbed Clary's hand and led her inside the store.
It wasn't very big or crowded. The walls were painted red and black with jewelry hanging on display inside glass-cased boxes. Some chairs and loveseats were situated around the shop.
"Remember when I told you to be spontaneous?"
Clary tore her gaze away from a crazily tattooed guy, with cropped hair, that had passed them. "Maybe," she muttered.
"Clary," Isabelle said in the stern voice she was known to have when she was about to say something important.
Clary raised her eyes to her best friend's. "What?"
Izzy hesitated before speaking slowly, as if she were speaking to a child. "I know you've been through a lot, all right? You've been through hell and back. No one deserves to have that happen to them. You're one of the best people I know, and all I want for you to be is happy."
Clary gave her a look. Right. Happy. What did that word mean again?
"Okay," Isabelle took a deep breath. "Maybe not right now, but in the future," she continued. "And I want to help you, but tell me this. What do you have control over in your life right now?"
She bit her lip and thought back to everything that had happened lately. Everything bad. Her mother's accident. Her father's coerciveness and anger. Her relationship with Sebastian. Her life seemed to be falling apart minute by minute. She realized she had no control over any part of her existence. Bad things kept happening to her and she couldn't do anything to stop them.
"Nothing," she finally replied.
"Exactly. So what do you say about settling for one thing you can control in your life?"
Clary didn't have to think much on this. She knew the answer, and she knew she wanted to feel like she was in control again. "I'm in."
Isabelle smiled, clearly happy with Clary's answer. "Well then," she paused. "Do you want a tattoo or a piercing?"
Clary contemplated her options. Did she want something that would stay on her skin for the rest of her life, or did she want something that could be removed whenever she wanted? If she did get a tattoo, then she'd have to decide what she wanted. A flower? Fire? Designs? And where would she want it? Waist? Ribcage? Wrist? The choices were endless. Either way, she was going to get stabbed by a needle, so she couldn't avoid that.
In the end, after weighing her two alternatives, she knew what she wanted. She turned to Izzy and opened her mouth to speak, when she felt a draft of warm air rush in from behind her as she heard the door open and close. Her whole body went rigid. She willed her fingers and feet to move, but they weren't listening.
Him. It was him. It had to be him because of his distinct fragrance of the cologne. She could identify the smell of that cologne anywhere. And she could feel him as if he were standing next to her. As if he were wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against his chest. Clary shivered involuntarily at the image that thought brought to mind.
"Oh, hello, Mr. Herondale," she heard Izzy say, but it was muted, as if Clary's head were underwater and everyone else was above.
She wasn't able to move. Why the hell wasn't she moving? Turn around, Clary. Come on. You can do it. But she knew she wouldn't, even if her muscles obliged her. She didn't want to face Jace after seeing him with Aline.
"Hello," he spoke, his tone a bit unsure. His warm voice seemed to have an affect on Clary because she was eventually able to have control over her body. She stood there for a minute, not sure what to do, when she heard Isabelle clear her throat, indicating that Clary should do something, and quickly. Clary bit her lip and took a deep breath before spinning around, ever so slowly, until she was looking up at him.
She should say something. Maybe even smile. But the words were stuck in her throat. His blond hair was disheveled from the wind and his golden eyes showed no emotion when they landed on Clary. And suddenly, Clary felt self-conscious. She was suddenly wondering if she was dressed well, if she should have worn something prettier. Or if she should have looked in the mirror and fixed her hair before she'd left her house. She wondered if he noticed she looked like a wreck, because she certainly felt like one inside.
"Hey," he murmured, barely audible to Clary over the rush of thoughts running through her mind.
"Hi." The word came out more hostile than she'd intended. But Clary couldn't help it. She still had the image of his arm draped around Aline's waist, and moreover, she kept feeling nauseous every now and then whenever she thought about Sebastian. God, she was all sorts of messed up right now.
He stepped closer to her to let a couple pass them. His scent was making her crazy, crazier than she wanted it to. "We meet again."
"Great," said Clary.
Jace pressed his lips together, clearly suppressing a smile.
A shot of anger washed through her. Did he think it was funny how she reacted to his words? Did he not understand why she was being so cold to him? Was it really that hard for him to apprehend that he'd left her for Aline when he was the one that'd written that note to her?
"Oh, could you excuse us for one minute, Mr. Herondale?" Isabelle said before Clary could say something she'd regret later. She grabbed Clary's arm, dragging her to a corner.
"What the hell is happening between you two?" she asked, resting her hands on her hips with her brows raised.
"Nothing." Clary reverted her gaze to the wall and pretended to admire the cracks and marks, and the color it was painted. She decided the color red was a little too flashy—
"Clary, you're not telling me something," Izzy accused.
She focused her attention back to Isabelle. "There's nothing to tell," she lied as best as she could. "But I've made up my mind about what I want to get," she added, hoping the subject change would distract Izzy.
But it didn't. Of course it didn't. This was Isabelle. If she wanted to get something done, she'd get it done. If she wanted to voice her opinion on something—even if it would cause consequences—she'd say it.
Isabelle's eyes softened. "You like him."
At that, Clary stared at her best friend in shock. Like him? Like… finding him attractive and wanting him to be in a relationship type of like?
Izzy's mouth dropped into a small "o". "Oh, God. You do!"
Clary hesitated, not sure what to say. The only thing she knew was that she did find him attractive. Quite a bit. Much more so than she thought was healthy. But there was a side to him that she didn't know about. Or about what he did to her mother—if he had done anything. She refused to believe anything her father had told her until she heard from Jace himself that he was responsible for what had happened to her.
Then there was the fact that she'd just broken up with her boyfriend, and the whole mess that had preceded it. Clary felt like utter crap about that. She had to swallow the bile rising in her throat to keep herself from throwing up.
Once she was able to speak, she answered as honestly as she could. "I don't know." She couldn't handle thinking about boys right now.
There was a pause, but then Isabelle nudged her. "I won't tell anyone," she promised, smiling at her. "Just let me know if you need any help, all right?"
"But I don't—" Clary protested.
"Clary, I know you. I know when you like someone." Isabelle cut her off. "But," she continued, "I also understand that you're in a tough situation right now, so just know I'll be here for you."
Clary's eyes stung with tears. "Thank you," she whispered before throwing her arms around her best friend. Isabelle hugged her back tightly.
"Besides," Izzy said once they both pulled back, "Who am I to judge who you like and who you don't? I just want my best friend happy, and if she wants to go after a drop-dead sexy teacher, then I won't get in the way."
"He's not drop-dead sexy." Even though she knew that must have been one of the biggest lies she'd ever uttered.
"Who's not drop-dead sexy?" said a deep voice from behind her.
Clary jumped and whirled to find Jace smirking. Something inside Clary was telling her he knew exactly whom they were talking about, and he was amused. Well, she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.
"Not you."
Jace quirked a brow, playfulness shining through his golden eyes. "I think I heard you wrong. I believe you meant to say anyone who isn't me."
She rolled her eyes. "You're too cocky for an old man."
"Old?" His expression turned to mock-hurt. "I only get sexier with age."
For some reason, his statement made Clary laugh so hard she had to clutch her stomach, making her forget the reason why she was upset with him and Sebastian. When she was finally able to control her giggles, she glanced up to find Isabelle giving her a you-so-are-overdoing-your-laugh look, which made her immediately straighten up.
"Oh, crap! I need to meet up Simon soon. So," she smiled, her eyes flickering between Clary and Jace, "I'll see you at my place around dinner time."
Before she had the chance to protest, Isabelle was out the door in a flurry, her black hair flowing behind her like a dark cape. Clary sighed. She should have known Izzy was going to pull the "leave friend with crush" card on her. She didn't know whether she should thank her or murder her.
And as if on cue, her phone buzzed, revealing a message from Isabelle: You'll thank me later.
Her iPhone vibrated again, indicating she received another message. Have fun with Mr. Herondale help you through your pain. ;)
Clary glared at her phone. How could Isabelle leave her, when she needed her the most? When she needed a girlfriend to keep her company? To keep her from breaking down about Sebastian? But no, Isabelle left her with Jace. Jace, who Clary was confused about even more than Sebastian. At least with Sebastian, she could get answers from him, if she ever wanted to speak to him again. But Jace? He was something else entirely. It seemed she only knew about his "teacher" side. The rest was a mystery.
Angrily, she shoved her phone in her back pocket, not bothering to reply. She'd give Isabelle a piece of her mind later that night. Right now, she should focus on distracting herself. If her best friend wasn't here to support her, then she only had herself to depend on—and maybe Jace, just as Izzy suggested. Maybe she should give him a chance to not be a jerk.
"Are you all right?" Jace's voice interrupted her inner babble.
Clary blinked and looked up at him. "Yeah, why?"
"You seemed to be having quite the staring contest with the wall." Jace's tone was light, but the way he was looking at her, the way his gaze on her made her feel, let her know he knew something was up with her.
"Oh, you noticed?"
Jace stepped even closer to her and brushed his fingers gently against her cheek. She resisted the urge to lean into his hand. It was warm and soft, hard and rough all at the same time. The perfect combination. It felt so good.
"Does it hurt?" he asked softly, wrapping a stray red curl around his finger before tucking it behind her ear.
Clary's breath caught, not because of what he asked, but from his touch. Just with one touch. How was he capable of making her feel happy and safe all at once with just one minuscule touch? "W-what?" Her reply came out shaky, and she ordered herself to stop acting like she was in middle school.
The question was in his eyes as he looked her, searching for answers, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he stroked her cheek with his thumb, rubbing it in circles with a feather-light touch. The things he was doing to her with just that soft caress was going to make her body combust, right there, right in the middle of the store. And that's when she realized what he meant. Her cheek. If it stopped hurting.
She shook her head ever so slightly. Jace nodded and dropped his hand to his side. Instantly, Clary was aware of the loss of contact, which brought heat rushing to her cheeks. She glanced up at him and couldn't stop herself from smiling. If she wasn't mistaken, Jace's cheeks were a little flushed too, and she didn't think it was because of the way-too-warm temperature in the room. He was staring at her, his golden eyes burning into her green ones. God, the way he was looking at her made butterflies pound desperately against the walls of her stomach. Made her feel as if her body was on fire.
"I won, by the way," said Clary, hastily trying to change the subject. The intimate moment between them was scaring her. She didn't want to feel things for him. She didn't want to get hurt again. Sebastian hurting her—physically—was enough to shake her up good, so involving herself with her teacher could only lead to worse consequences.
And anyway, why did he care if she was hurt? She didn't want him to make her feel better if she wasn't. She could handle the pain.
Jace blinked, as if slowly coming back to the situation at hand. His entire demeanor changed when he responded. He was suddenly the teasing, cocky guy. "Must not have been a good opponent then."
Clary gained some self-control and scowled. "I'll have you know I've won plenty of times."
He chuckled. "I won't believe it until you've proven it."
"I'm ready any day."
"I'll take you up on that offer." He grinned wickedly at her.
God. There was that smile again. The panty-wetting one. Damn him for ruining her panties. And they were nice ones from Victoria's Secret, too. She supposed she was happy she'd worn those ones, but then stopped herself from thinking further. What was wrong with her? She'd just broken up with her boyfriend and here she was thinking about how she was unhappy with the fact that her teacher was ruining her underwear? She was right about herself. She was a mess.
"So what brings a child like you into an adult place like this?" Jace teased.
Clary ignored his jab. "My friend Isabelle and I were supposed to get a tattoo or a piercing together, but…" she trailed off.
"She ditched?" He guessed.
"Something like that. What about you?"
Jace walked over to one of the glass cases, Clary following him, and laid his hand on top of it. He pointed to earrings, shaped like small lilies. "I was going to get these."
Clary couldn't stop the words flowing from her mouth. "For yourself?"
A smile pulled up at the corner of his mouth, but his face was drawn and his eyes were sad. "No."
That was all he said. He didn't elaborate. And Clary didn't ask, just as he didn't earlier. She didn't want to know for whom either. Anyway, it didn't matter in the long run. He seemed to be interested in someone else. The person who he was buying those earrings for. So while Jace asked the cashier to take out the jewelry, Clary wandered away from him and toward the place where that tattooed guy—Clary caught the name written Miles on his name tag—was sitting.
He looked up at her. "Getting a tattoo today, miss?"
"Piercing, actually."
"All right, go pick out what you want and come back here once you're done."
She nodded, and left to go to the front of the store. Jace still stood there, handing cash over to the person behind the counter. Clary stepped up next to her teacher when the cashier handed the receipt to Jace and turned to her.
"What can I do for you?"
"I'd like to get my bellybutton pierced."
The guy bobbed his head. He bent to open the glass case and pulled out a variety of jewelry. There were rings of every color anyone could think of, along with dangly ones. Clary didn't bother looking at the ones that weren't rings. She looked at the different colors and bit her bottom lip.
Which color to choose? There were so many that looked pretty, especially the blue, green, pink, purple, and white. But Clary doubted white would look nice on her pale skin, so she decided against that. She picked up the dark blue one, and held up. It looked nice under the lights.
"Not your color," said Jace's voice from beside her, making her jump, which in turn made him laugh.
"Stop doing that." She glared at him.
"It's not my fault you get scared easily."
"I don't. I watch horror movies all the time," she lied, hoping the confidence in her voice was enough to convince him.
It wasn't.
"Try the green," he suggested.
She dropped the blue ring back in the container and swapped it with the green one. It was more of an emerald than a neon green, which she liked. She held it up for the both of them to see and Clary had to admit, it did look better than the blue.
"Fine," she said. "I'll get this one."
Jace smirked.
"Shut up."
Clary paid for the jewelry and was sent back to where the piercer sat. She was happy that Jace was right on her heels because she still wasn't completely sure if she could watch herself get stabbed in the stomach.
Once she handed the ring over, Miles asked Clary to fill out a sheet of paper, which asked if she was allergic to anything and if she was of age. She quickly answered the questions and gave it back to Miles, who in turn asked her to stand in front of him while he picked up a sharpie marker.
"Pull your top. I need to mark you. This is so your piercing won't be crooked."
Clary hesitated. She wasn't comfortable with showing her stomach to a stranger, but then again, it wasn't like he was going to do anything to her. Just mark her. With a marker. The least painful part of this process.
She tugged on the hem of her tank top and lifted it until her bellybutton showed, tucking it under her bra. Miles bent to get a better view, and drew a small circle right above her navel and one inside. He then motioned for Clary to lie down on the chair, which was reclined back 180 degrees.
"Your boyfriend can hold your hand if you want," said Miles as he put on black gloves and picked up a needle, cleaning it with rubbing alcohol.
"Oh, he's not—"
"I'd be more than happy to hold your hand," Jace said.
Clary looked up at him, with no sign of humor on his face. He was serious. He really would help her through this. Although she was still not sure about their situation, Clary was glad he was there. Just the sight of the needle made her feel nauseous, and she didn't want to risk fainting.
Slowly, she nodded. Jace held his hand out to her and she gratefully took it. Her fingers laced with his, and she noticed how perfect it looked. His was big, and hers was small, and they seemed to fit together like pieces of a puzzle.
"Squeeze my hand if it hurts."
"Okay." Her eyes flickered to Miles, who was bringing over clamps and the needle to her. He started to wipe Clary's stomach with a clean, wet gauge. She swallowed hard. It was going to hurt. It was going to hurt a lot. God, she really didn't want to faint and make a fool out of herself.
She looked away and made sure to keep her eyes on Jace. To study the way his gold hair curled at the nape of his neck. To watch his long, light lashes bat whenever he blinked. Her gaze dropped to his lips, that she wanted to kiss so badly at that moment. They looked so soft and so perfect. She wondered idly if he was a good kisser. But then she realized that was a ridiculous question. Of course he must be, by the look of his mouth.
"Take a deep breath in and when I say blow out, that's when the needle goes in."
Clary nodded again, refusing to take her eyes off Jace. It was like he was her anchor, keeping her safe, keeping her from getting hurt. And he seemed to have understood that because the way he was looking at her made her feel grounded. The way his thumb rubbed soothing circles on her skin made her forget where she was.
"Deep breath in."
She obliged and clenched her eyes shut. She could do this. She could do this. She could do this. It wasn't going to kill her. It was going to hurt for just one sec—
"And out."
Just as Clary was about to exhale, she felt the needle go through her skin. She forgot about breathing out. It was stuck. She wanted to scream, but that was stuck in her throat as well. She forgot about what Jace had told her. She couldn't even focus on squeezing his hand. The pain was too much to bear for her to follow his instructions. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. It felt strange, and it hurt. Clary was ready to pull out the syringe out when it was over. She could feel Miles sliding in the jewelry inside the hole.
"And you're done."
Clary opened her eyes only to find Jace staring at her stomach in awe. She followed his gaze and a small gasp spilled from her lips. Jace helped her stand and led her to the mirror hanging on a door near her. She smiled and twisted her hips this way and that. The green was an amazing contrast to her pale skin.
"What do you think?" Clary asked, glancing up at Jace.
She watched his Adam's apple bob. "It looks nice."
Her grin grew even bigger. For some reason, she was glad that he approved of the piercing, of the color of the ring, of her getting it. She didn't know why. She hadn't thought about anyone else's opinion when she wanted to do something before, but… right now, she cared about what someone thought. What Jace thought.
Clary was going to ask him another question, when Miles came up from behind them. He handed over a brochure, which explained how to clean and take care of the piercing. She wasn't supposed to touch it unless her hands were clean. She couldn't go swimming—which she was fine with because she didn't know how to anyway, and she couldn't change the ring until the piercing was healed.
It seemed simple enough.
Once Miles was done speaking, he left to go to the front of the room, leaving Jace and Clary alone. She pulled down her tank top, suddenly a little self-conscious that her teacher had seen her stomach. She was pretty sure her cheeks were beet red and she fanned them to make the color go away.
"I thought you were a tough girl," Jace teased.
"I am!" Clary couldn't stop herself from smiling at his remark.
"Doesn't seem like the horror movies are doing their job."
She had an urge to playfully punch him, but resisted. "I had you to help."
And just like that, the humorous tone in his voice was gone. His eyes hardened. "What if I wasn't there?"
"Then I'd have the cashier hold my hand," Clary joked.
When he didn't say anything or change his expression, she decided to change the subject. "What are you doing today?"
"I have to grade about 150 pages of homework. Why?"
Clary should have known that was what he was going to say, but she was still disappointed. She'd expected him to come up with something fun, or maybe explain about his note, but he didn't. He didn't mention the note or Aline. She was glad about the last part though, but not so much the first. She supposed if he wanted to let her know, he would. If not, then she'd ask later.
"No reason. Is it all right if I join you? I'll get off the train at my stop."
"I don't see why not."
And that's how Clary found herself riding on the subway with her teacher. Many people would find that odd—her walking home with Jace. Most students didn't interact with their teacher. They stayed away and only communicated with them if need be.
Clary used to be one of those students that refused to speak to her instructor unless it was her only option to receive help. Otherwise, she'd go her own way and them theirs. But this was different. Jace didn't just feel like a mentor to her, even though that was what he was to her primarily. He felt like someone she knew from before. Someone who she could be around and not act like someone she wasn't, although she most certainly acted like a fourteen-year-old. She didn't know where that trait came from. It wasn't there when cute boys talked to her in school. It wasn't there when she'd started dating Sebastian. Her stomach twisted in uncomfortable knots when she thought about him. Don't. Don't think about him, she scolded herself. So instead she thought about Jace and how he was the only one who'd ever given Clary butterflies. It had just started, too. Recently. With Jace. Why, she had no idea. Clary didn't like the idea that she wasn't in control of her emotions and actions in front of him. She worried he thought of her as a mere child, when she wasn't. She was anything but. And she hoped he was aware of that.
Clary hadn't realized that she'd missed her stop, until she stood outside of Jace's building. She was so consumed with her thoughts that she'd forgotten to get off at her stop, and now she was here. Standing silently next to her teacher who was speaking to her, possibly asking her a question because he was starting to give her a look which could only be interpreted as: You're either deaf or completely stupid.
"What did you say?" she asked.
"I asked if you wanted to come inside. Maybe call someone?"
Her eyes flickered between him and his home. She wasn't sure of what she wanted. On one hand, she wanted to ask him all the questions that filled her mind ever since the night her father had said what he'd said. She also wanted to find out about the note, and the earrings, and—She stopped herself. Clary didn't know if she wanted to find out all of those answers just yet, especially after just breaking up with her boyfriend. No, not boyfriend. Not anymore. Ex-boyfriend.
Clary swallowed hard. Sebastian. God. She didn't know what was going to happen between them now. Was he going to leave New York immediately and head back to California? Or was he going to ask for Clary's forgiveness? She sighed. Maybe going back home was the best option here before she had to go over to Izzy's.
"I think I'm just going to go home," she finally said.
If Clary weren't mistaken, she'd have sworn he looked disappointment, but that was gone before she could be sure of it.
"All right. I'll see you tomorrow then."
Jace turned and started toward the door. A strange feeling crept up inside of Clary, making her heart hurt. She didn't know why, but she reached for his hand. All she knew was she couldn't let him go already. Not yet. His presence made her happy. The way he acted around her made her feel like she wasn't broken. That she didn't have a plate full of problems she didn't want to think about.
He stopped and spun around to face her, his brows raised.
She cleared her throat. "I just wanted to say thank you." When she saw him confused, she continued, "About earlier. At the shop. Thank you."
Jace looked down at their hands and lifted his gaze to her eyes. The question was in his stare, and when Clary didn't remove her hand from his, he slowly pulled her into him, his free arm sliding around her waist. She rested her other palm on him and felt his chest rising faster and faster. She couldn't stop herself from smiling. She was doing that. She was making him breathe like that. And at that moment, that's all she cared about: the way his breaths were rough and quick, how her body felt flush with his, how her form fit perfectly against him. She didn't care if it was wrong. She just knew it felt right to be there, in his arms, and she wasn't ready to give that up yet.
He let go of her hand and trailed his fingertips up her arm, leaving a path of goosebumps in their wake. He brought his palm up to cup Clary's cheek, his thumb running along the curve of her cheekbone. His touch was soft and slow, tentative, as if he weren't sure he should be touching her at all. She closed her eyes for a moment and reveled in the feeling. She liked how his skin felt on hers. She liked it so much.
Once she opened her eyes and lifted her head, she looked up at him and noticed he was staring at her lips. His eyes burned with fire and lust and want, but he didn't move. Jace didn't do anything. He just looked, his brows pushed together and his gaze dark.
Jace let his hands fall to his sides and stepped away, his shoulders taut with tension. His blond head dropped, staring at his fists, which he clenched and unclenched over and over again. Clary watched his knuckles turn white as he tightened his grip. She could see how he struggled to look at her, to keep himself from touching her again, and it struck something inside of her. Suddenly, even though he was only a foot or so away, it was way too far. Every part of her ached in a way it never had with Seb, or anyone else, for Jace to touch her again. She didn't know why, but in that moment, she really didn't care. It was all she wanted, to feel the way she'd just felt, for someone to make her imperfect life seem perfect, if only for a couple moments, for him to.
"Jace..." Clary whispered, unable to stop the pleading in her voice. Her face flared at the sound, but her desire to feel as accepted and as safe as she had moments before overrode any embarrassment.
Jace raised his gaze to hers, and conflicting emotions flashed through his eyes, causing Clary's stomach to plummet. She could tell how hard this was for him. How he was restraining himself from doing something they both knew he shouldn't. She understood that, and she felt the same way. It wasn't right. Hell, it wasn't legal. But, God, the way he was looking at her right then made her not care about the consequences. Her gut twisted in knots, filling her stomach with butterflies.
Just as she was about to give up and back off, his shoulders sagged in defeat and he reached for her, drawing her even closer to him than before. When their chests touched, she felt as if her entire being was being lit with a flame from every point they connected.
"I'm going to hell," he whispered in her ear, and then, slowly lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her softly. It was like magic, the way their lips moved together, as if they'd been doing this forever.
Clary whimpered and she reached up to touch his jaw, fingers brushing over the stubble there. His hands slid down her back and she elicited a gasp as his grip curled around her hips and pulled her hard against him. But his lips only grew softer and softer.
"Jace—" Clary breathed.
He kissed the corners of her mouth and pulled back, an uncertain and slightly vulnerable smile on his face.
Clary grinned, still a bit slaphappy from the kiss. It was better than any kiss she'd ever had. Better than Sebastian, for sure. She didn't think it was possible, but boy was she wrong.
"Are you sure you don't want to come in?" asked Jace, something a little like hope shining in his gold eyes.
Clary knew she shouldn't stay, that this, being with him, kissing him, was all kinds of wrong and would lead to nothing but trouble for both of them. But as she gazed up into his stare and felt the way he made her problems seem to disappear, there was no way she could say no. And as stupid as it may have been, she didn't want to.
"I think I will," she finally spoke, her stomach fluttering with the thought of her being alone with him in his home again.
His answering smile was so beautiful it made Clary's heart skip a few beats. Maybe staying was the stupidest decision she would ever make, but, at the moment, Clary didn't care, because she was happy. Finally happy. Happier than she'd ever been in her life. So this day, she was going to do what made her feel good, and Jace was exactly that.
Finally, right? Woo! Trust me, I've been waiting for this last scene to happen since the very first chapter. But I hope the wait made it that much better. :) So now that that's happened, I have lots of other fun stuff in store for you guys (and yes, that includes more fluff for you fluffnutters and more angst for ones who like angst).
I'd also like thank you all for giving this story so much love. It warms my heart and makes me feel all fuzzy inside. Thank you!
I hope to see you all next month. Have a wonderful day/month, and a (belated) happy New Year!