My mixed feelings about this relationship with Jace have not fixed themselves by the end of the period. If anything, I am surer than ever that we should call the whole thing off before it just blows up in our faces…especially my face. I am too cowardly to tell him this, though, so I simply push myself off the stool when the teacher calls time on our lab and untie my own apron. He doesn't offer his assistance this time, and I am grateful.

As I return to my station, I notice the sour expression on his face, and hold in a grimace. I am taking my time walking back to the lab station, inwardly panicking because I don't know what to do with a pouty Jace. I sigh in relief as the bell rings before I am halfway back to him. I rush to the station, not glancing in his direction, and grab my bag. I try and scurry out of the room, but before I can put one foot in front of the other to begin the hard task of fighting a crowd of a bunch of people taller than me, I feel the familiar feeling of long and soft fingers on my arm, this time gently restraining me.

I feel him tug me backward and into his chest. His arms wrap around my waist from behind as he rests his head on my shoulder. It would look like an affectionate gesture to any innocent bystander, but it is not. It is a restraining one.

"We need to talk," he muttered to me quietly, his breath tickling my ear.

"I don't want to," I say.

He nuzzles his cheek against the crook of my neck softly, and I lean my head over absently. "I didn't ask you if you wanted to talk to me," he mutters in my ear. "Come on, Clare, I'm not going to bite…unless you want me to, of course."

I roll my eyes, his attempt at humor is slightly appreciated, but at the moment I am not sure if I have it in me to appreciate. "I don't really think I want you to bite," I reply.

He chuckles lowly and lets go of my waist to grab my hand. I stand there limply, letting him spin me around and allowing him to drag me out of the lab. I see a few students in the hallway looking toward us curiously; some of them are even glaring. "You're just an assistant next, right?" Jace asks me curiously, looking down at me.

I nod, trying to remember what he had. He observes me a lot more than I give him credit for, and I feel bad about not returning the favor. I remember that he sometimes comes into the art room for supplies for History projects his fourth period, and smile as I reply, "And you have history."

"I do," he confirms, squeezing my hand slightly, causing my heart rate to jump. I ignore it, and look at him, waiting for him to explain what is so important about me being an assistant.

He doesn't look at me, though. He looks around the hallway, frowning slightly as though he was looking for something and could not find it. He finally just pulls me by an empty expanse of lockers and lightly pushes me against them. I feel uncomfortable with our proximity, but do not comment on it, even when he places a hand on the cool metal beside my head and leans in so that we are eye to eye and our noses are almost touching. This is the closest I've ever been to Jace, so close that our breaths are intermingling, and I don't even feel the urge to push him away. Of course this might be because I am too busy being paralyzed.

"I'm not saying this to be smart or sarcastic," he murmurs to me, "I'm being completely truthful. You're seriously one of the prettiest girls I've ever met, and you've got the personality to match, so don't listen to anyone else that tries to make you feel like you're not."

I look down at the ground, not really sure what to tell him. I know that he's telling me this to make me feel better, and I don't feel like arguing with him. "I don't want to talk about that right now, Jace."

He sighs and I look up at him. His face is twisted into a troubled frown. "Fine," he says, "we don't have to, but I am going to prove my point." I don't have time to ask him how. He simply pulls me away from the locker, and into the middle of the crowded hallway. I look up at him questioningly as he tucks a piece of red hair behind my ear, his fingers trail lightly across my jaw before he cups my face with it gently, but firmly enough that I cannot look away.

I look at him, completely frozen as he leans in. A million things are running through my head as I watch him close his eyes and mine flutter shut as well, like whether or not I remembered to use mouthwash this morning, or if he will like the flavor of my pomegranate chap-stick, and most importantly…wondering whether or not Jace Herondale has lost his dammed mind. And then his lips brush softly against mine, causing every rational thought to fly out of the window.

Despite the fact that I know it means absolutely nothing, and that it is all a show, my heart leaps into my throat, and starts beating so harshly that it actually hurts to feel. His lips brush against mine again, and press more firmly against me this time, as if he is now sure that I'm not going to run away. My hand moved of their own accord, trailing upward until they were resting comfortably on his chest, and I am almost leaning against him, completely intoxicated. The electric tingles run from my lips all the way through my body. The taste of his lips and the smell of what I think is his cologne is enough to make my thoughts turn to mush.

He slowly releases me, his lips seeming to linger barely a millimeter from mine much longer than necessary, but I'm too dizzy and disoriented to care. He leans his forehead against mine. His thumb rubs against the skin of my cheek almost tenderly as he smiles at me. "I've never actually kissed any of my girlfriends in the middle of the school, never been proud enough of one to do it. You're different."

"We aren't even really dating," I find myself murmuring. "Of course I'm different."

"What I'm telling you," he said, his face tightening slightly from what was most likely aggravation, "is that you're a person that anyone would be happy to be seen with because you're beautiful and you're a great person. Jessamine was just…" he shook his head, "a questionable decision on my part."

"Jace…." I trail off, unsure of what else I was going to tell him. He seems to realize this, because he just smiles at me and says, "Don't worry about it, Clary. I don't expect any motivational speeches from you, just don't doubt yourself."

I have no clear or rational thoughts as I lug myself out of the school. Jace hadn't made me move to the back with him in art again, and I hadn't tried to separate him from his bromancy time with Sebastian. I know that he needs time to himself away from me. I'm not exactly feeling clingy myself, either. I dashed out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang, needing time to clear my head. Of course the only thing that my head seemed to want to process was that kiss. It wasn't even real, but it was still the only thing that I seemed to be able to concentrate on.

I walked into the parking lot, only managing to step on a couple of toes, and stumble into a few people. The strange thing was that it wasn't the kiss itself that I was so hung up over…it was the fact that I hadn't exactly minded it…if I was going to be completely honest with myself, I had actually really enjoyed it.

It was scaring me…badly.

Hey peoples! Guess who's back again! I hope you loved the chapter, and their "special" moment. Did it mean nothing to both of them? One of them? Or did both of them actually feel something for it? IDK… Review though, and invest in my creativity! And to any other fanatic that may be reading this fic…OCTOBER 12 is the day I have been looking forward to since the beginning of this year when the fourth season of the Walking Dead went off. Just remember that the first episode starts tomorrow! :)

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