Sorry this chapter is short, the next one'll be longer. IMPORTANT NOTICE FROM ME TO YOU: People! I would very much like to know that people are reading this! I don't care what you thought about it, as long as you tell me! Please review it!

Disclaimer: Yeah, something about owning nothing...

Chapter: Jem

Jem was in his bedroom, playing his violin. He faced the window with his eyes closed as he drew the bow back and forth against the strings, playing a high, haunting melody, something sad and lonely, but maybe a little bit hopeful as well. He was in his element, but when he neared the end of his song and he came back to reality, he was aware of a presence in the room behind him.

"Will?" he asked, assuming it was him. "Will, is that you?"

"Do I look like Will Herondale to you?" a voice said feebly, a voice that was definitely not Will's. Jem spun around and opened his eyes, shocked to recognize Belle's voice. She hovered in the doorway, looking tired, with her hair piled on top of her head and dark shadows circled under her eyes. She managed a small smile. "Will dragged me out of room and forced me to eat. I took a shower, and… well, here I am."

Jem slowly laid his violin on his bureau and took a tentative step toward her, having trouble believing that she was really there. "Belle," he breathed. "I don't know what to say…"

"You could say you missed me," she whispered, holding her arms out. Jem rushed into them, picking her up and swinging her around. He buried his face in her neck, and when he spoke, his voice was muffled.

"I missed you more than I could even say. I'm so sorry for what happened, I didn't mean to spring anything on you, it just sort of slipped out and–"

"Jem," Belle said with a quiet laugh, "has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?"

He pulled away and blushed. "No, but–"

"Hush," she ordered, covering his mouth with one small hand. "I should be apologizing to you, okay? I overreacted. I just… I didn't know what to do. Look, can we sit down? We need to talk about this." She untangled herself from Jem and sat on his bed, patting the spot next to her in an invitation.

"I should start by saying this," she began hesitantly. "I am not used to being in this position. I mean, I've been in love before– if I can say that I loved Michael Lightwood, and I think I did– but this is… different. I don't know how or why, but it is. The second thing I need to say is that I'm having so much trouble with this because in all honesty, I don't deserve you. You deserve perfect, and I am not anywhere close to perfect."

Jem took her hand. "I don't want perfect. I want you."

Belle ignored him, but she smiled. "The last thing I should tell you is that… I love you, too, and that scares me. I don't want to hurt you, and I need to let you know, I will break your heart someday."

"I don't care, I really don't. As long as you love me…" He leaned over and kissed her softly. She kissed him back, tangling her hands in the front of his shirt as his arms wrapped around her waist. She was bittersweet, being half-demon and half-angel, like the darkest chocolate and oranges. He wondered if all faeries were like that or if it was just her, but before he could think about it too much, he felt warm hands on the bare skin of his chest.

He gasped and broke the kiss, looking down; sometime when he wasn't paying attention, Belle had undone the buttons on his shirt. "Do you mind that–" she started, but he swallowed the words as he covered her mouth with his again. He felt her hands shove the shirt over his shoulders and remove it altogether, which didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. He enjoyed it, actually, but didn't know how to return the favor.

Fortunately he didn't have to. This time she pulled away and stood up, slipping her own shirt over her head and taking her hair down from the loose bun it had been in. She jumped back onto Jem's bed, scooting up against his headboard and beckoning him over. Gulping, with butterflies in his stomach, he crawled over her and kissed her again.

Some force, be it Fate or hormones, was controlling Jem's every move, which granted him some relief. He had no idea what he was doing when he slid his tongue along her lower lip, asking for entrance, but she granted it. He hoped she couldn't tell that he had no experience and was groping around in the dark, but he was sure she knew, even though she said nothing and just wound her hands through the silky strands of his silver hair.

Everything had been going better than expected until she moved her hands from his head and ran them down his back. Her fingers were dipping dangerously close to his belt, which was where he drew the line.

"No– no–" he panted, scrambling up and grabbing his shirt. "We can't…"

Belle sat up, her lips swollen, her chest heaving. "Why not?"

"Because– you're not thinking straight, you're emotionally not…" His voice trailed off when he saw the pain on her face. She picked up her own shirt.

"It's fine if you don't want to be with me, you know," she said in a scarily calm voice.

"No, that's not it! I just mean– well, you've been through a lot lately, and I'm not going to take advantage of that. If, in a few days, you still want to… Well, you know where I am."

She bit her lip and nodded. "Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking. I might take you up on that offer, though, so I hope you meant it."

"I did."

"Good. And Jem?"

"Yeah?"

"I– I do love you."

He smiled and kissed her cheek. "Love you too."