Clary hurried away from the coffeeshop, away from the faces of the disappointed patrons, away from her feeling of regret. She was beginning to second-guess herself, and was about ready to run to the Institute, and throw her arms around Jace, beg for his forgiveness. She wanted him back...but she didn't.
She shook her head. Just forget him, already, she said to herself. This was your idea, anyway. She convinced herself to stop feeling so guilty, and began to press through the crowded streets. She felt the odd sensation of eyes boring into the back of her neck, something she always ever felt when Jace or her mother was looking at her with a disapproving glance. She stopped in her tracks and turned around behind her, looking for the source. She so nobody behind her that she knew, and looked foolishly up at the edge of the sky, as if somebody was floating above her.
And she met eyes with the mysterious man that she had seen in the shop. He was sitting on the roof, eating the muffin he had bought, looking down at the streets with a disgusted look on his face. What in the world is he doing up there? Clary thought. As soon as she met his eyes, the man looked behind himself, as if looking for something there. Clary shook her head, and turned away from him She was seeing him much to often,m and she had too many questions already that she couldn't answer. Why was he on the roof? Why was he watching her? Why was he looking behind himself unless...unless he was glamoured. Clary kept on trekking back to her home, thinking of the Downworlder man in green.
With a sigh, she opened the door to her apartment. She was relieved to find Luke and Jocelyn out; she had some time to herself, which she desperately needed. She threw her bag on the floor, and plopped down on her bed. She was tired, but she wasn't sure exactly why. Maybe the break-up has completely wiped her out emotionally. Maybe she just needed to sleep...
Clary was dancing in the Accord's Hall. She was used to dancing her now, in the light, in the beauty. Clary was wearing a white dress, pooling down in layers of silk at her feet, almost like a wedding gown. She had on her green jacket, the one Luke had given her. But it was different; the sleeves were fixed, little holes no longer lining the hems and seams. She couldn't say she didn't like the change; she felt bad that she had ruined it so quickly in the first place. It was softer, too, just as silky as her dress. She stopped looking down at her attire, and looked up to her dance partner instead.
The person she was dancing with was familiar, somebody she had known for what seemed like her whole life. Thin, awkward, with dark hair falling in messy layers over his eyes. Simon held her carefully, with all the love of a best friend. Clary smiled as they danced, the music entrancing. She closed her eyes, and was spun around, only to be pulled back into her dance partner's chest.
He was different, now, with long, thin, pianist fingers. He was held her strong, as though he couldn't let go; this was most definitely Jace. And yet...it wasn't. This man was taller, and smelled of worn leather and metal. He held her hands carefully, but held her to him as if she were a lifeline, as if he couldn't let go. And she danced with him without seeing him. But soon she became tired and overly perplexed. Who was this guy? She not-so-gracefully turned herself to face the stranger.
This man was familiar, too, but in a different way. Jade eyes, hair black as pitch, falling at his shoulders. This was the man from the coffeeshop, the man on the roof. She scrunched her eyebrows. "Why am I dancing with you?" she asked accusingly, without thinking.
The man chuckled, pulling her into an embrace. "Because it's forbidden."