*Gets down on knees and begs forgiveness* I'm so sorry! This update is long, long, long overdue, but I couldn't help it. I've written it and rewritten it, and it's all just so angsty! It really couldn't be helped in this chapter, but all of you know that I'm all for HEA so don't feel too bad...anyways...I hope you enjoy where this is going! Thanks to all my faithful readers, and I apologize for any mistakes there may be before you read this...
The uneven pitter-patter of rain filtered into Clary's bedroom, rhythmic thumps echoing from the walls as raindrops splattered loudly against the windowpane, racing down the cool glass with tracks of translucent liquid left behind. The rain had been threatening to spill from the overcast clouds for a few days now, and it had finally opened up completely, the downpour flooding the streets with no sign of seizing.
The shades to Clary's bedroom were drawn, and a dull light seeped through the water-stained glass, casting the room in eerie shadows. The whole room seemed to have been wiped of all color, like an image flipped to grayscale. Perfect, Clary thought sadly as she rolled over, the twisted sheets constricting even tighter around her.
Her hair was wild and matted from last night's tossing and turning, the purple bags circling her eyes a tell-tale clue that she had gotten no sleep last night. She lifted her chin slightly and glared into the corner of her bedroom, where the canvas sat, covered by a thin cloth. She couldn't get that stupid chest out of her head, no matter how hard she tried, the flawless torso invaded her every coherent thought.
The way the perfect skin stretched taut over the hard knots of muscle beneath, the way the black ink of the tattoo curled perfectly around each inch of his flesh, the way the heat burned inside of her every time she conjured up a mental picture. It was aggravating, to think of something so wonderful, so artistic, and not know the origin of it, to not know who staked claim to the glorious chest that nearly made Clary hyperventilate.
It was astonishing to her that she could remember ever specific detail. Every curly, blond hair, every dark brown mole, every curve was branded behind her eyelids. Yet, for some unknown and abominable reason, she didn't know his name. Surely if she'd seen such a unique, exquisite sight, she would remember the person's name. Sure, she could have seen a random guy's shirtless figure while she was at the beach, but she would have never been close enough to see the pale, barely there freckles that dotted the surface of his skin. Clary scrubbed her hands over her face, feeling the heated flush of her skin. No random boy would have that effect on her. Her stomach churned with groups of butterflies. No, butterflies was not a strong enough word to explain the hurricane in her stomach. It was as if her insides had been invaded by swarms of wasps, whirling around until Clary felt sick, stinging her when she tried to remember the boy's name.
She was close, so close. It started with a J, or at least she believed it did. "Jeremy?" she muttered quietly, the word even more muffled by the plush cotton of her pillow. "Jimmy?" None of the names that flashed through her mind matched the image in her brain. Maybe she'd never remember. Her palms began to sweat at the thought of never meeting the person that had inspired her to paint her greatest masterpiece, the masterpiece she didn't have the guts to hand into the teacher. Clary sighed, her tense shoulders relaxing as she settled deeper into her mattress—
You only live once. That's the motto, ***** YOLO—Clary's hand thrust out toward the nightstand where her ringtone was blaring at top volume. She fought the urge to scream at the caller on the other end as she hit the answer button and pressed it to her ear.
"Hello?" she asked into the mouthpiece, flinching at how deep and husky her voice sounded. She blinked a few times and swiped her palms across her eyelids.
"Clary?" a very familiar voice asked, his voice full of anxiety and apprehension. Clary rolled her eyes, propping herself up on her elbows and swiveling her neck around, startled by the excessive popping noises that filled throughout the room. Sebastian wasn't usually one to be awake before noon, let alone call before seven o'clock.
Clary sighed heavily into the phone at her brother. "Seb, this is my phone. Who were you expecting. Dr. Seuss?" Sebastian let out a breathy laugh, and Clary could just picture his fingers knotting into his hair, his little nervous tick that he'd done ever since she met him.
"Well, no, not per se, but if you want, I will obey. I was just calling because I felt that with the rain falling—"
"Cut the rhyming, Seb."
"Thank, God," he said loudly, as if she'd actually just released him from a punishment. "My next sentence ended with the word orange, and that could have ended badly…" Clary laughed at his attempt of a joke, hoping to ease whatever was on her brother's mind. She shifted the phone to her other ear, and in that little movement, the picture came into her peripherals. Gold, black, and red all sliced across her mind, eating away at her slowly. She had to find out who that man was before the questions suffocated her. "Little Red?" Clary realized she hadn't spoken for awhile.
"I'm here…" Where did the red color come from? She hadn't really seen anything red in the image before. Had she painted red into the image?
"Good." She could hear him breathing on the other end, and she itched to just tell him goodbye, to hang up so she could investigate the painting in piece. She shook away that thought, knowing she couldn't ignore her brother when she heard how worried his voice sounded, how scared he seemed. "Do you—" he stopped, the other end of the line going silent. She would have thought he'd hung up, but the phone didn't beep, so she knew he was still here.
The rain still raged down outside, making Clary wonder how flooded the streets would be today. Would there be classes? Did the cancel classes for rain? She didn't know, so she just sat there, patiently waiting for Sebastian to continue with his question. She absently stood up and inched closer to the corner, the white cloth begging to be removed, the painting beckoning her closer.
"I've lost it," she mumbled, dragging her unwilling legs back to the bed.
"What was that?" Sebastian asked, making Clary's hand flutter to her chest in surprise.
"Nothing, just continue." Sebastian took in a large breath, something Clary often did to calm her nerves.
Do you…Do you…" he stumbled again. Clary yawned, turning around to watch the rain fill the ground with water puddles. "Do you remember what I told you the other day?" It came out in a rush, and Clary barely caught all the words. What did he tell her the other day? Had she seen Seb lately? Had she really even talked to him?
She could smell smoke as her brain struggled to remember what he was talking about. A flash of hurt coursed through her chest as the image unfolded before her, blurry at the edges as if it were dusty. Sebastian sat next to her at a bar, his face rested in his hand as he swigged from a beer. His mouth opened to say something, and the memory went black, as if it had been forgotten. Clary groaned in frustration.
"…No?" she squeaked quietly, figuring it was probably important since he seemed so worried. Her beliefs were confirmed when Sebastian didn't respond for a long time, his breathing the only thing that passed through the phone.
"You know what? Just meet me at Taki's for breakfast, alright? Pick you up at eight?" Clary agreed enthusiastically, excited that she was spending time with her brother gain. Had he broken up with Aline? Ever since he and Aline had become an "item", Sebastian had ignored her. She skipped to the bathroom with a new vigor and ran a brush through her hair, angrily trying to tug out all the knots from her sleepless night.
The smile on her face fell from her lips as her mind wandered toward last night's dream. She knew in the dream that she'd known who the boy was. She was talking to him! She'd seen his face in her dream! She just knew she did! But, alas, when she woke up, she forgot the specifics of the dream. The only thing that stuck with her was a stupid little pet name that she'd never even heard before. "Testarossa," is what he'd mumbled in a smooth, melodic voice before kissing her. And that was when she woke up and forgot everything semi-important, only remembering something that probably wasn't even connected to him, that probably was just one of her hormonal, teenage fantasies mingling with her memories.
She sighed and brushed her teeth, removing the rest of the night from her mouth as she spat the minty suds into the sink. She braided her fiery curls down each side and slipped on a pair of skinny jeans and a flowing top. She slid on her polka-dotted rain boots and shoved her arms through the matching coat. Taki's was only a block away, so she just decided she could walk. She didn't mind the rain. She actually welcomed rain. In some sort of cliché way, she liked tromping though the puddles while singing under her breath. Nobody was really outside while it rained, so it was one of the few places she actually felt comfortable using her voice.
Yes, she had been told she was a good singer, but only by her mother and Luke. Even Sebastian had never heard her sing, so as she skipped down the wet sidewalk, she began humming a tune, just humming the intro over and over again, trying to build up her courage to allow the words to burst from her lips, the pitches to blow up from her diaphragm, to just sing. The streets were abandoned, flooded with murky water that the drainage pipes struggled to keep lower than the curbs, so she didn't know why her hands were still slick with fear. You'd think she'd have gotten over the silly stage fright she'd had acquired after being laughed off stage when she was younger and trying to recite the lines to Goldilocks and the Three Bears.
She kicked up some water, watching the leaves swirl around in the puddle, the raindrops creating ripples in the small collections of water. She was nearly at the door of Taki's when she finally sang a few words, just the first two lines. She sang under her breath, so it was quiet, and with the seemingly monsoon that stormed around New York, nobody could hear.
You, got me caught, in all this mess.
I guess…we can blame it on the rain.
The bell chimed as Clary shoved into the small diner, those lyrics sticking with her as she spotted Sebastian, secluded in a corner. "Little Red!" he called, waving her over. She smiled in response, the soles of her boots squeaking and leaving dirty footprints as she tramped through the restaurant. The seats were fifties diner style, with linoleum topped tables and faux leather benches in bright colors like read. Well, even if the name wasn't spelled like the word, it certainly was tacky.
She slid into the booth, and Sebastian slid a menu toward her, his opened already. "Bro," she said, sliding the menu back over to him, "you know what I like." It was true. They'd eaten there a million times, and she'd never varied from her usual. A slow smile stole across Sebastian's tan face, his dark eyes dancing toward the area behind the counter.
Clary maneuvered to follow his gaze, just as a waitress dumped two plates down in front of the siblings, followed by two tall chocolate shakes. She smiled at her brother, inhaling the distinct scent of her beloved coconut pancakes. "You're the best," she said, staring hungrily at the steaming stack before her. He beamed down at his short, younger sister, shoving nearly a whole pancake in his mouth as Clary grabbed her knife and began sawing a hunk off hers. She dunked it in the dish of maple syrup and stuck it into her mouth, her eyes rolling back in her head a little at the delicious taste of pancakes and coconut.
She'd nearly finished half a pancake when a thought occurred to her. "So, earlier, you were saying…" Sebastian nervously scratched at the back of his neck, his eyes crinkling up a little at the edges as he gazed out the window.
"Quite a storm out there…" he commented in a hushed murmur. He looked distant, and Clary kicked his shin under the table, hard.
"Don't do that with me Sebastian. I can and will beat you up." She waved her fork and knife around for emphasis, which Sebastian, not-so-discreetly, removed the latter from her hand. He dropped it on his own plate, the clang of metal causing heads to snap up around the room. There were a few hushed whispers and glares from Clary before they returned to their meals. "Spit it out, or I'll make good on my promise to castrate you—"
"I knocked up Aline," he blurted, cutting her off before more profanities from their childhood spilled out into open air. Clary dropped the fork to the table, an even louder bang resounding in the room, echoing in her ears. All eyes were on Clary, who was frozen with a deer in the headlights look.
Was he kidding? Clary couldn't focus. Her vision kept swirling in and out until she was sucked down, a memory enveloping her consciousness. The whole scene of her and Sebastian at the bar was remembered, everything. She remembered how he'd said he was engaged, how she'd expected Alec to pop out and tell her it was a practical joke. She remembered Aline's swollen belly, and her churning stomach. She remembered Isabelle and Simon. She remembered. In her memory, she grabbed two beers and downed them. Then, her recollection faded to black, leaving her with more questions than answers.
She suddenly felt very dizzy. Aline had made her high school years a living hell. She had tortured Clary both physically and socially. She felt tears sting her eyes. Her brother wasn't supposed to betray her like this! He was supposed to protect her, to love her more than any of his little crushes. He should have been keeping Aline away from her, not dragging them together with an eternal bond!
Eternal bond! Clary would be stuck with having Aline as a sister-in-law for her entire life! Clary pressed her palms to her cheeks and eyed her brother for a moment, scrutinizing him. He was so good! He didn't do that kind of thing, especially to Clary. Well, that statement was true, until now. Clary stood up abruptly, fingering her braids nervously as she opened her mouth to speak.
She saw the fear in her brother's eyes, fear of what she was going to do right then: bolt. She covered her mouth, forcing the tears of frustration back into her head. After releasing a shaky breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, she removed her hand. "I'm…I'm not doing…what you think I'm doing."
"Well, then what is it, Clary? Because it sure feels like you're leaving me when I need you most." Clary let one tear slip down the corner of her nose. She flicked it away, pausing a moment to think about what she was going to say.
"I just…need a moment to think." She didn't wait for his response before rushing out the door, the wind whipping her braids around. She raised her hood and ducked her head, to avoid the rush of air bombarding her face. She let the tears slip down her face, dropping onto the pavement below and meshing with the rain until she didn't know where her own aggravation stopped and the cloud's sorrows began.
She was vaguely aware of her feet sloshing through the nearly ankle-deep puddles. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly as the wind picked up, the water shooting against her skin and pricking like needles. She cursed her thoughtless love of the rain, realizing her mistake too late. She knew Seb would be, but she really didn't feel like turning around and meeting his face. "Seb, if you so much as touch me, I will make record your every secret on a video and upload it to YouTube." She heard loud grumbling behind her, but she trudged forward, where the rain was falling harder.
She'd been stumbling down the street for a moment, unbalanced by the speed and strength of the wind, when she knocked into someone's shoulder. "Hey, watch it, brat!" a nasally voice squealed. Clary peeped up, prepared to apologize when she saw who it was.
Kaelie walked hand-in-hand with a boy, his blond hair peeping out beneath the hood of his black sweatshirt. It was soaked and clinging to his body, but Kaelie was perfectly dry under an umbrella that she wasn't sharing. "Kaelie, always a pleasure to see your face! Now maybe I'll finally be able to throw up that nasty supper I ate last night!" Kaelie scoffed and shoved Clary away. She stumbled and fell off the curb, water soaking through her jeans and into her socks.
She lay on the curb, shocked for a moment as Kaelie snickered, pointing and whispering something to the boy next to her. Clary watched as he removed his hood. Jace looked at her, his eyes full of concern. Clary shook her head and heaved herself off the ground, moving to cross the street with her eyes cast downward.
You, got me caught, in all this mess.
I guess…we can blame it on the rain.
"Little Red!" Seb's voice reached her ears, and she turned her head just in time to see the headlights of the car just inches in front of her. She didn't feel anything as it connected with her. She just felt, like she was flying. She heard the crack as her body bounced against the pavement. She heard a voice call in the distance. "Testarossa!" That name…was her last coherent thought before a darkness captured her in its clutches and dragged her under.
X.O.X.O.X
Beep…Beep…Beep. It's funny how you always know you're in a hospital before you wake up. The sounds of the heart monitor tracking her pulse, the scuffle of nurses and visitors, the ungodly scent of sterilizer that seemed to puncture your nostrils were all dead giveaways to your location, so when Clary woke up, she immediately realized that when people woke up in hospitals in movies and asked, "Where am I?", it was completely and utterly unrealistic.
Clary felt the IV feeding her some fluid through her wrist, she was aware of the nurse attending to her, she heard the soft murmuring of voices from somewhere in the room, and she hadn't even opened her eyes. What had happened? Her head was pounding, any sound causing a pang of pain to shoot through her skull. She ventured to guess she'd been hurt somehow, and she probed her mind to see what had happened.
The headlights. The glass crunching. The earsplitting crack of her head against the pavement. It was a little much, and she gasped. She heard the whoosh of air as the nurse turned around to face her. "Clary, honey? Are you awake?" The lady's voice was kind, concerned. Clary opened her mouth, but found that she couldn't speak. "It's okay, Clary. You don't have to speak. Can you open your eyes?" Clary cracked on eyelid. "Good, good." The pen made a scratching noise against the paper as the nurse wrote something down. Clary cringed against the noise. "Clary, do you remember what happened?"
Clary remained perfectly mute, unable to find her voice, so instead she moved her eyes up and down. She'd attempted to nod, but the motions of her neck were hindered by a brace. Just that moment, Clary's mother burst into the room. "My baby!" she sobbed into the foot of Clary's bed. Clary made no move to console the sobbing woman, but only because she could barely move herself.
"Shh," the nurse cooed at Jocelyn's kneeling figure. "She just has a few broken bones." She looked at Clary, and added, "Though you may be slightly dizzy because you lost a lot of blood, and we had to perform a blood transfusion."
Clary's eyebrows knit together. Come to think of it, the room was kind of spinning…
"Luckily, the man that came to visit you had type O blood. He offered to donate it, and we took it, seeing as you are type AB." Jocelyn still sobbed quietly on the floor, but Clary looked up quizzically at the nurse. Didn't they usually just get the hemoglobin from the blood bank? Her thoughts were interrupted when a cheerful looking Luke popped into the room.
"Clarebear! So glad you're awake."
"Ah, there he is," the nurse said, gesturing toward the small bandage on the inside of Luke's elbow. I frowned, my brain clicking. I'd taken enough biology classes to know that type O blood couldn't mix with any other blood to make a type AB blood for a child.
I finally gained mobility and used my arm to scratch my head. "But that's my dad." It seemed that I had found my voice to.
"Adoptive?" The nurse asked, her eyes mimicking my confusion.
"Biological," I said quietly, looking between Luke and my mother, "or so I had thought."
Ooh...the bomb has been dropped. *Cue Explosion* this is setting up for where in the summary it says some secrets are revealed that change her life forever...*Waggles eyebrows unattractively* ;) Also for those of you that don't understand the blood thing...Yeah Ik, it's confusing...so here's the low down. Type O blood (ii) mixed with type AB blood (AB, duh) only produces eigher type A blood (Ai) or type B blood (Bi) Type O blood cannot be crossed with any blood type to genetically produce type AB blood, so Luke is not Clary's real father...If you don't get that now..well google it...because I am not a good teacher haha.
Music:
The Motto by Drake, Tyga (#GrowlMakesMeSwoon), and Lil Wayne :) Explitives removed...just cuz I may say'em doesn't mean I write'em.
And
Blame It On The Rain by He Is We...listened to it while I wrote this whole chapter...doesn't really have anything significant except those two lines...(The significance will probably pop up later, so hold tight.) As always...I write this with All My Love and in high hopes that you will feed my addiction of reading reviews.
PEACE! V -awkward Peace sign for people that don't have palms...I'm in a weird mood.
BallinBlonde21-out.