Climon

Just so you know, this is while Clary and Simon are dating in CoA.

She kisses me passionately, then pulls away for breath. She leans her forehead against mine, her eyes still closed.

"I love you, Simon Lewis."

I feel my heart beating hard with warm sensation. Then white. Yes, white. White ceiling. I realize that I'm lying down on the sofa in the living room. Disappointed and furious, I rub my eyes roughly. I find Clary pressed against me beside me, still sleeping. We must've fallen asleep last night while watching a movie.

I study her carefully. So beautiful. So bright. Like her last name. She stirs a little, opening her eyes slowly.

She yawns, and looks up at me, smiling. She leans in and presses a gentle kiss on my lips and stands up. I want her back in my arms. I want her soft breath against my cheek again. I want to feel her warmth against me.

But her eyes seem so hollow. Like she's yearning for something. Something she can't have. Something that isn't me. And I know it. Painfully. But I can't stop it. I can't stop kissing her, even though she doesn't feel what I feel. She's like a morphine. Not good for me, and I know it. Only, I can't stop it. I need her.

So I pull her back into my embrace. She lets out a small yelp as she falls back on my chest again. I prop myself up with my elbows, and kiss her. She starts kissing me back. Not hesitantly, but as if it's nothing to her. As if it doesn't matter. As if it's not a kiss at all. But like I said, I don't care.

I want her to know how much I'm hurting. I want her to know how much I hate her for it. But I can't. Because I still love her.

I lick her bottom lip, and she parts her lips softly. She told me she feels safe with me. Safe. Driving five kilometers per hour in your new Lamborghini at an empty road is safe. Paragliding in your dreams is safe. Swimming in a kids pool with a tube is safe. I don't want that. I want her to feel what she feels toward Jace when she's with me. But I know it's impossible.

I've wished for something impossible a lot. When I was nine, I wished I could be a Power Ranger. When I was eleven, I wished I could have a brother. When I was fourteen, I wished I could meet Eminem for real. But now, it's so different. Now, I know what they mean when they say they'd kill to have something. When they say they'd sell their own souls.

I grab her waist, pulling her against me harder. She feels dead. Like I'm kissing a dead body. But I still feel her. Dead or not, it's still her. And if that's all I can have, then I'll take it.

She kisses me back, she holds me, she runs her fingers through my hair. But I know that deep inside her, it's all about Jace. Our relationship is about Jace. She, herself is about Jace. And I am just about Jace too. I'm a soldier of hers who's supposed to help her through this. Nothing's about me here. But I don't care. As long as I am holding her, as long as I am kissing her, as long as I am in her life, then I'm fine with it. Not satisfied, but not the worst. I'll be her soldier gladly.

Hope you liked this chapter. Requests and criticism welcomed.