A/N: Now it's back to Jace!
Chapter 14
(Jace POV)
The first thing that I realized when I woke up was that I was extremely uncomfortable. My tight pants were digging into all the wrong places, for one, and two, I seemed to be lying on a pile of fluffiness that didn't extend to above my neck. As it was, I was lying on my side with my head resting on something hard and flat, my neck awkwardly extended. I opened my eyes.
I immediately saw Simon lying on the floor a few feet in front of me. I, too, was on the floor, it seemed, but I was at the corner of a reddish Persian rug. I lazily rolled over, and noticed that my head was so uncomfortable because, unlike the rest of my body, it wasn't supported by throw pillows. Sitting up made me realize that my neck wasn't just uncomfortable, either. Rather, it was extremely sore. Probably because of my awful sleeping position… Ugh, if there was ever time for a massage, or maybe an iratze...
I also had a massive headache, and looking at the light streaming in from the windows made my eyes ache. It was then that I saw an empty wineglass next to my makeshift bed of pillows, and I remembered how much I'd drunk. Heh, drunk…
And then I looked at Simon, who was now to my right, still asleep and sprawled out like a careless child. I vaguely recalled being in a small, dark area, pushing Simon against the floor, and probing his mouth with my tongue… And Simon kissing me back, moaning against my lips in the heat of the moment…
"Holy shit," I cursed aloud in an agitated whisper. I must have been so wasted… Who the hell had let me make out with Simon? And why did I have the sneaking suspicion that I sort of wanted to?
As if replying my own question, the answer suddenly came to me, and I felt stupid. Of course, Spin the Bottle. And then Seven Minutes in Heaven. I had even suggested the latter.
But… had I really wanted to make out with Simon? I couldn't tell. Probably not. Why would I, after all? It was Simon. I mean, come on. The guy was cute and all in a sort of boyish way, but… Never mind.
That didn't mean that my life was any less messy than it had been a day before. All my problems were still there, metaphorically glaring at me and reinforcing that I, Jace Lightwood, was indeed a weak-willed, licentious jackass. I wondered how Clary and Evangeline felt about me making out with Simon…
But Clary and Evangeline had made out too! Well, sort of. They kissed anyway, and it was such a beautiful sight. Most guys only wanted to see girls making out because it was arousing. I'm not going to lie, it was pretty sexy, but what made it better for me was that they were both so gorgeous, and the image of them kissing was equally breathtaking. There was something aesthetically pleasing about it, like a prized piece of art.
But they both still hated me. Hell, I even hated myself because of everything that had happened. If this all had happened a year or two ago, I probably would have gone on a self-injuring streak. That's what I always did when I was upset, at least until last year when I grew out of it. Now I just quietly hated myself and worried. And drank. And apparently kissed Simon.
God damn it. I wondered how someone could get themself into such a big damn mess, and realized that the answer was simple: I was a jackass, not deserving of anyone's love or kindness. All I ever did was ruin my life, and by extension, that of anyone I cared about.
To love is to destroy, echoed my mind.
Maybe Valentine was right. It was almost like I could feel him gloating from beyond the grave. "See? I was right, Jace," he seemed to tell me. "You're just like me."
A/N: ;_;
xoxo