10/10/2017- 4,256

Chapter 8

Blow Out the Candles

(1 year ago—3 months later)

September 11, 2005

"You can't eat it like that!" I smacked his second caviar out of his hand.

"Oh come one Sera," he was getting frustrated, "how am I supposed to savor it? Well you didn't explain it right, how is that my fault?"

"You need to listen better if we are going to get this done," I said seriously knowing that when I chose these dishes it was going to be very difficult to keep Jon clean. He wasn't the classy eater if you know what I mean.

He was capable though, even if he had to try for it. With a huff, and with his long and agile fingers he prepared caviar with a chef's expertise, "If you have not learned by now, I am an expert on all matters of listening."

I stood up straight, "Yeah, Master of Listening pay close attention. You are supposed to," I took a small bite of the cracker cheese-caviar while he inspected all my movements, "and then," I said with my full mouth, "drink some of this," I took the paper cup from the portable table downing slowly the red dessert wine I bought.

"Very classy, talking with your mouth open," he repeated my actions perfectly. Of course he would.

"Still classier than you," I teased, "and you wipe your mouth after you are done. There, now you have learned the common manners they teach the female populace."

"I am sure there is more to it than that, but this is satisfactory," he prepared some more caviar.

I watched him. The dexterity, the concentration, and knew that this last year had changed him somehow. It wasn't in what he said, or did, but in his mannerisms. He was changing... into something.

"You're staring at me again."

"Damn," he had caught me again.

Jonathan Christopher was a mystery to me, and when he asked to learn manners that the Clave taught the Shadowhunters I was surprised. He explained that he found his father lacking, and wanted to know what I knew.

"So you finally told me," I grinned happy with the new information.

"You do have a father," I said boldly, "how about your mother-"

"Okay that is enough for questions."

"No," I asked him the one I had been hoping he would answer.

I was surprised he answered at all, but glad he did.

Balloons, a cake, candles, and a big sign was what I had brought this time. Jonathan's sudden hunger for knowledge was always was a perplexing thought to me, but it would have to be put on hold on this very special day. He was never sated once he had me going.

"Trust me Jon we will study later."

"We barely spent an hour," he complained.

"Jon," I said his name so many times today, "this is far more than the other Nephilium boys know, and today is your day, chill before you learn everything and then we will have nothing to talk about," and that is how I succeeded in making him feel impressed with our afternoon of Manners 101.

He always wanted to be the best. To Jonathan it was a contest or better yet a marathon to becoming the absolute best Shadowhunter alive. He was an Olympic runner, marathon gladiator, even though he despised labeling it so. He said that was not this goal, but I could argue otherwise. Sometimes I think he was so blind when it came to himself. That was why I was there to show him what was what.

We enjoyed the caviar at a makeshift table I had brought for this occasion. We didn't do this often, but today I was treating him since I had no choice in the matter.

"So Birthday Boy, what else do you want to do today?"

"I'm not sure," he mused.

"Battle tactics? Dueling?"

"We have practiced all summer, and you have proved lacking of late," he arrogantly said.

"You are so sweet Jon. How about some reading," I looked through our pile hidden in the tree's makeshift hole he had made a few years back.

"I am not in the mood for reading," I rolled my eyes.

"How about these coloring books I got," I felt like drawing. I had got them from a French town the last time Adam and I decided to visit with some other Nephilium, Rachel had never been before, and so there was plenty of shopping and sight seeing. It had pictures of sunsets, birds, and forests, and it made me think of Jon. Traveling was not so bad when I could share all the photos with him afterwards. It was like he was there with me, experiencing them, and he even liked some enough to keep them.

"I am sixteen Sera, not four," he pushed away the coloring pages as if they were vipers.

"Hey, it's not my fault I want to revive your childhood years," I put them safely back in my bag.

"It's moments like these," he sighed and I tried to listen carefully, "that make me question. After all this time, how can you think I would ever waste my time with ludicrous games?"

"Jon I am trying to make this day memorable-"

"When you do these things I believe you don't know me at all," he laid back on the grassy bed underneath the oak tree shade. That hurt, he avoided my sad glance, and I was trying to be nonchalant, like what he said didn't hurt. I wanted his birthday to be special, and he was hard to read when he acted this way.

"I am trying to make it special," I spoke my mind, "I wanted it to be perfect."

"Perfection," his mood darkened, "those who strive for perfection tend to be sorely disappointed in the outcome. Perfection is only found in the journey to attain it. Instead of focusing on making things perfect why not ask me instead of just thinking you know what is best for me."

"Fine, I will." He always needed to be right, strike for the sorest spots, but he did make solid arguments.

"Alright, Jonathan, what will it be, what is it you want for your birthday," his eyes looked devious, and I knew that this was not going to be good.

"Please don't say what I think you are going to say. Don't make it something stupid that will get me into trouble, I don't need any more of your dares. The Council already has me for destroying the church windows. Dad can't pay for anymore trouble," He tapped his chin in thought, while I wished he would be lenient.

"But you are so easy to persuade," he contemplated.

"Don't take me for granted," I reminded him, suddenly upset with his temporary abuse of power, "I might ban myself from coming out here for a couple of weeks."

He leaned up taking a sip of the wine looking across the field, "I don't think you could resist coming out here."

"Alright watch me," I chuckled, "You can be surprised when people tell me I can't do something."

"Now that I can believe," he chuckled and my tummy did a flip. I tamed it at once, promising myself that I would conquer these silly fantasies of Jon ever feeling anything but companionship towards me. He had never made a move since the first day I ever met him. One childhood kiss from Jon was enough to last me a lifetime, I don't think I could take his rejection the same blasé way I did when we were younger.

We were different people, and I liked to believe we had grown to be good friends.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

My cheeks colored, and I knew I was going to say something stupid.

"Rejection," I said softly.

"Excuse me," he was unprepared for that, but so was I.

"It's funny how the people we love the most, can hurt us the most," I contemplated unaware of where I was trying to go with this, "how people judge you before they even know you, and tell you hurtful things when you do not reach their expectations. When it comes down to other people we judge them on what we can get out of them, rather than what we can give them. How people that know you best," I paused swallowing, "they know right where to hurt you."

Wow, I did not see that coming. I was afraid to look at him, but I did, but he was looking out at the field searching across the grass that we had met so many Sundays I had lost count.

He stretched his back out, but I know what I said got to him. "What are you saying Sera?"

"I wish the world was different," I finished, "I wish I was different."

"Do you want to be?"

I shrugged, "Yes, but it doesn't matter."

He was enraptured with what I was saying, but I was afraid to say anything more and ruin the place I had built with him, "Why? Why does it not matter?"

I switched tactics, "One person can't change the world," and it was true. I couldn't do much, but a little fire burned up within me.

"True," he agreed, impassive, and still sipping his wine.

"That doesn't mean," I continued, "That I am not going to try. When I am older I want to be on the Council, and change the way others view people. I can't stand the way people treat my father, the people I love like... subhuman. Mundanes, Downworlders, Halfbloods, and maybe even…" what was I saying, "even Demons," his body flinched at that, "everyone can be treated the same, given the same things, and maybe then things can be better. What is better than equality for all?"

"Sera," he was ready to debate me.

"I know it's impossible, and it sounds a bit like a socialist idealist, but that is what I like thinking about," I confessed, "I hate how people are oppressed by others. Who made us Gods?"

"Sera," His voice was by my cheek.

When did he get so close?

I turned my face towards him, surprised that he had in fact moved over sitting a nail-pin's length away from me, and was completely at ease with it. He was faring far more better than I was. I forgot to breathe. Shocked.

I was enveloped into his full dark pupils' inches away from mine dilated to the point they were frighteningly arousing. They were calling to me. I was in a trance, and if I was not sitting I would have probably have fell flat on my bum. I knew I should be wary of him, his confidence, his talent for cruelty, but with him I had never been so safe. Even after all this time he still had this effect on me, but I dared not move one inch and destroy this.

My breaths came in short gasps now, "What do you— think you— are you doing?"

"Sera," he calmed me, his breathe inches from my lips, it smelled like wine and caviar, so unlike him, "I know what I want for my birthday."

I wanted him down and dirty, I thought, I hummed in agreement.

If he moved away like last time I was going to kill him, "You do? Well oblige me, what is that Jonathan Christopher?"

He loved when I used his full name, he would quiver like he was doing now. All I wanted was to make him happy today, and my hypocritical side wanted to have some also. It was amazing what type of power he had over me. He was right I could never keep myself away here; I had become too attached, too invested, too into this teenage dark angel.

"I want you"— he licked his lips and I was ready tackle him and there, "to become my Parabatai," he exhaled, and I was never more ready.

"I know how you feel— wait did you say Parabatai?"

His chest started heaving, and I knew he was laughing, "Yes?" He looked proud, and ran off clearly enjoying himself, "I always thought of you like a brother," he laughed outright at my expression.

"You tricky BASTARD!" I threw the table over in anger, "I hate when you do that," I threw my bag of supplies over the field filled with rage. I felt like I could tear this field in half, and still have anger to tear him into shreds also.

He was laughing really hard now, "What happened to your peaceful side, Sera?" It took me a while to respond since I had never seen him so beautiful as he was now.

His face was relaxed. I finally saw his full smile without malice or hatred, but with joyfulness. He was the epitome of elation, and maybe it was the reason that I was attracted him through and through, but I felt as If I was looking into his soul. I wished at that moment I could have a picture of him.

He massaged the back of his head, "I never heard of Council members using such crude language," he knew how crude language I could use.

"To hell with peace!" I meant it, "If the Council had to deal with you, I would tell them that you are the first person to an expedited sentence! I would go dictator on your ass, and have a quick execution," I picked up my things angry with my sudden burst of childishness.

"So you do love me," he grinned, "a quick death always is reserved for loved ones."

"Well my dear parabatai," I teased, "only the best for you." I was a blushing mess. Did he actually say love, oh be still my heart. Be still before you beat right out of my chest, and make a fool out of me in front of this devil of a man that controls you.

"Is that so?" He ran at me, but I ducked. Though he got what he wanted.

"Give it back Jon!" He had my white ribbon in his hand twirling it far above me.

"No," he tied it around his wrist, "it looks far better on me, and look it matches my hair," he said in a girly voice. I could not help but laugh as I charged, but he dodged evading me as if was a pesky bee. I felt light as whip cream, and I had never seen him so happy before let alone this playful, and I wish I had this moment on rerun for the rest of my life.

We both crashed in the middle of the field out of breathe.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Why do you keep asking that question?"

"I never knew how intelligent you had become, because before, no offense but, you were a rambling idiot," I smacked his arm, that was mean, he was not finished, "now conversation seems more effortless, wouldn't you agree."

"It's called a relationship," I didn't have to see his grimace to know he had it on. For once I was glad we were staring at the blue sky, because at least I could pretend, "After a while with someone it gets effortless, but I wouldn't say we are anywhere close."

Jon rolled on his side, examining my face, "Why?"

I closed my eyes not allowing his closeness to affect my calm state of mind, "No relationship is easy, and those that are they are more likely not real. In order for a relationship to be real, then the individuals must face the problems together, be completely honest, and then both can grow, and learn from their mistakes. Together."

"Who taught you that?"

That was hard, my father, Adam with Rachel, and seeing the way Amatis face got when she was thinking about her golden years, flipping through albums of the years with the love of her life, "I can't say that it has only been one person, more a collection of experiences I suppose."

"Really? You learned that from all of your experiences."

"You aren't the first boy I have met Jon," I teased.

"So you enjoy telling me," he rolled back on his back, "You think yourself so clever do you? You think that since you have 'met' a population of young males that you can form an opinion on a universal successful relationship with someone."

"No," I contradicted, "I have only met two boys, and they are a pretty good bunch. Though I suppose that is what gossiping is for. You be amazed what girls go on about."

"Seraphina Fell," my stomach fluttered, "you have been with two guys, I don't believe it."

I did not know how he meant it, like he expected I had been with more guys, or for me to be less open with my number, "Why? You think I don't have anything to offer?"

"You are far too innocent for your own good," he hummed rolling over and probably leaving.

"If you say so," I shut my eyes, proud of myself, I knew I was not innocent, it was my sweet eyes I tell you. They fooled everyone, unless you knew me you would think I was an angel, but in reality I am the yeti on steroids, there is no stopping me!

Something landed on my cheek, I wiped it off, but instead of an insect or a leaf it was warm, and soft like skin. My eyes flew open to find Jon's face lowered to mine, and his hand on my cheek. My right hand now caught his left that I had just figured had been caressing my cheek. He was caressing me. I closed my eyes again, imagining him caressing my skin with his hands navigating across the expanse of my body, and then he would….Oh sweet Lord, that went to a very dark and dirty place really fast. Naughty hormone idled fantasies.

This was surely a dream.

His warm tangy breath on my cheek, "Let me," he commanded me softly. I let him. He traced the creases on my worried forehead, down my nose, across my cheeks, and then stopped at my parted mouth. I must be panting because I felt the slight taste of his thumb on my tongue. I wanted to envelop him whole, and bring his head down to smack against my lips, but I dared not ruin anything.

With two extra fingers he trailed to my chin, and down my neck, and traced my clavicle the goosebumps trailing where his fingers had plundered. I had never been this turned on in my entire life, because frankly no one could do what Jon did to me. I never let anyone touch me like this, because since I met him I had that crazy school-girl fantasy that he wanted me the same way I wanted him.

And I really really wanted Jon.

His hand traced to crevice between my breast, and my body tensed, "What do you think you are doing Jon?"

"You aren't a little girl anymore Sera," he didn't say it to mock me, but more with awe. Like he was appraising something he did not know had been worth so much, "It has taken me a while to see that."

I gawked at the sculpted abdominal muscles his pushed up shirt revealed, and the way his gaze latched so deeply with mine. His eyes were like the dark of night when I felt safe and warm in the recess of my mind. I wanted him to know how much I truly appreciated him.

"And you are no boy," I felt daring. I bit my lip, and my hand went south grabbed him down there. He moaned hotly into my face, and I regretted nothing.

"That is for calling me innocent."

"I apologize my lady I meant it in the best possible way," his breath tickled my lips.

My body automatically arched up to mold against his, and he gave another groan as he felt my breast brush against his. I had definitely done the right thing, and that is when he did something that I never thought possible.

He dove into my body, his mouth hard and wanting on mine. Jon was kissing me, no he was ravishing my lips, and I was letting him, rough, soft, good strong kisses. I could truly taste him now, savor him. I could not get enough of his warmth, his wet, and his need. I released my hold on him, to get a hold on the nape of his neck. I held on to dear life as he kissed me with a force I had never thought possible. When had he become such a good kisser?

This was a dream I had last week, but it in no way had measured to how peaceful and real love could be.

"You taste like honey," he whispered against my lips.

"Thanks," I giggled. He could have said anything about me and I would have still melted against him as he pulled my bottom lip with the tips of his teeth. I loved when he did that.

"At least your breath doesn't smell this time," he chuckled.

I bonked my head against his, "That is so rude, Jon. You don't talk about things like that."

"I know," he smirked down at me, and rolled away from me, "but I still do." He was such an ass.

"You are such an Ass!"

"Then stop kissing it," he pulled me up for another kiss, but this one was far sweeter, and lingered. It was a nice change from the last one. There was no way he did not try this with someone else. He was far too good for his own good.

He released me, and I finally was able to think clearly, "Who was she?"

I was surprised at his willingness, "Germany, Music Festival. One Summer Ago. Two years older."

"What was her name?"

"Does it matter," he rolled his eyes.

"Nope, because you are never going to see her again."

He brushed the side of my face, "Are you jealous?" I had been kissed before. Yes, but never like this. With Jonathan I never wanted to be kissed again, ever. Now, that I had I did not want him to kiss anyone too, and a little part of me wished that he was just as equally possessive over me. I wanted to do it again, pull him to me, and he must have sensed it too. My impatience.

"Possibly," he held my hand, and I let him, but I know my face was saying something else entirely.

"If we are talking exclusive, then how about that Ravenkey boy?"

"Adam?"

He growled at the name. It had so much bestiality that my legs shuddered as if his voice was a boom-box vibrating on my sensitive area. He pulled me by the waist my lips all his, but he would not take them, "How should I act when you talk so repeatedly about him. How should I feel that he gets to see you," he kissed me repeatedly, "every," more softly, "single," my breath caught, "day."

"I do not love Adam," my stomach flipped at my words, and the weight that they carried.

His hands cupped my face, "What did you say?"

"I don't love him," I told him. He grabbed neck yanking me to his, and it would have hurt if the pleasure of his lips had not sent tingles all the way to toes. He was nipping me now, not gently either, I could taste blood on my tongue, I was not sure who bit who, and then my lips began to hurt too. I did not stop. I did not know how. Our groins were touching now, and in the best way possible. I opened myself to him, legs wide, willing, and was glad when he filled the space with his body.

He let me breathe, but he wasn't done, "Say it again."

"I do not love Adam," he gave me another toe-curling kiss, pushing his pelvis into mine, my god, he was hitting me right there, could feel his hardness against my own pulsing, and I knew that without clothes, this would be far simpler. Life would be so much simpler if he just did what we both had been wanting for so long. Who cared if it was in a night, it could be an hour, and I would be ready for him. His hands were in my hair, but I wanted them lower, pulling, pushing, and massaging.

"Thank goodness," he began sucking on my neck, still speaking, "I was hoping you didn't. He does not deserve you," he praised my long neck, "does not savor you," he did just that, and I did not know if I was going to last very much longer.

"I don't love him," I think I could have repeated that for hours if it mean he would kiss me this much, but again my mouth decided to commit suicide, "because I love you."

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