My one and only angel
"Jem," I murmur, drawing him close. I've waited so long to hold him, my sweet violin-playing, honest love, back in my arms again. "It's been too long."
"I know, Tess, I know," comes his soft reply.
He then steps back a little, and puts one hand on my waist, the other linked through my own. "Dance with me Tessa."
Music swells in the background, and we begin to move together, every step in perfect harmony. The colours of sunset are splayed vividly across the room from the floor to ceiling window, high above the city. Vibrant, seductive reds and playful oranges. Sultry, dusky purples and edges of the sexy, unknown blacks of our shadows.
I gaze into his endless ebony eyes, marvelling at the strength I see there. This is the man who'd made countless sacrifices for both myself, and his parabatai, and by in everything but blood, brother, Will.
Will. Just remembering the name brings a myriad of emotions at once; of rapturous intense joy, and deep unfathomable melancholy. William Herondale had been the truest, most faithful love, and I hope his legacy lives on in our descendants.
Despite this, I do not feel the slightest bit of regret for loving James Carstairs. I've been told that to find one true love in a lifetime was fortunate, but to find two soul-mates was beyond almost beyond all possibility. It is not something that should be taken lightly, and I don't. Jem had been my fiancé long ago, and that love had never faded. Through our darkest hours we'd had merely the thought of each other to hold us afloat. The current had never been powerful enough to wash away what there is between us.
The song ends, leaving us in profound silence. I am a woman who can shed her skin easier than a snake, quickly fitting into another. He is the man who was a silver boy-prince, and then a sightless monk who could see the entire universe, but touch nothing. He is now the man who has the knowledge of thousands of years in his head and hands, and yet hesitates before me, unsure of himself. His hair falls into his soulful eyes, as he looks uncertainly at me. "Theresa Grey-Herondale. I know you said on Blackfriar's Bridge that you wanted back what we had in the past, but... after Will..."
"Jem. James Carstairs." He smiles slightly at that, recalling how Will would use his full name on the occasions when he really needed Jem to hear his words. "My name is not Theresa Grey-Herondale. It is Tessa Starkweather-Herondale-Carstairs," I say determinedly, then adding shyly," if you want it to be."
"Did you just propose to me?" Jem asks, his eyes alight with happiness.
"It's a new age, Jem. A new century of new adventures, in which I'd be honoured to have you by my side."
"I won't be there forever though. I'll die, just like Will."
"Years of treasured memories are better than years of emptiness," I counter.
"Then yes, Tessa, I will marry you," He murmurs, and kisses my neck softly, his hands stroking over my sides and shoulders. His lips move to my jawline, while he pushes off the jacket I am wearing, and it slides to the floor. He seems intent on exploring every part of me. His hand cups my cheek, and then his fingers touch my eyelids. My breathing hitches as his mouth meets mine. He does not kiss me carefully, but instead brings me back to that night we'd first kissed.
That had been the night I'd seen a whole different side to him; a part of him filled with raw anger and all-consuming, fiery passion. It had made me forget how vulnerable he'd been, how fragile and narrow and breakable he'd been. In that moment, he'd just been Jem. There was no boy feverish and silvered with yin fen, just the boy who loved me.
Heat surges in my veins, and I am reaching for his shirt, drawing it over his head. Just being away from him for a second is almost painful. Again, there is a changed man before me. There are no sharp angles from ribs and pointed shoulders any more. Instead there is an enduring strength where there had been weakness; his chest is smooth and muscular, although covered in swirling black runes and white scars, and his shoulders broad and rounded. He is flawless to me. He is a beautiful man of sincerity, respect and unbreakable loyalty.
I sigh against his skin. This is a moment I want never to forget. I need it to be imprinted on my mind. Slowly I run my hands from his soft black hair to his stomach, smiling as he shudders and squeezes his eyes shut.
I gasp slightly as his fingers tease at the hem of my shirt. Soon there would be no going back. I glance up at him, into his reopened eyes. Understanding passes between us instantly. We both want this.
It is not long before there was no more clothing left between us. He gently pulls me towards the white expanse of the bed, and we become one flesh, so intertwined that one could not be told from the other.
Later, when the room is darkened with night, I hear Jem whisper into my ear, "I love you Tess. My one and only angel."
Don't you just love Jem? Sometimes I get a little jealous of fictional characters. Like Clary. Like Tessa. Especially Tessa- she had Will Herondale and Jem Carstairs... but I suppose it wouldn't be all that great to live forever and have to lose both of them eventually.
Okay, so I'm wondering whether I should leave this as a one-shot, or continue Jem and Tessa's story? Leave a comment to tell me... Thanks for reading!