Jace and Clary - In The Dark Forest (Ch. 14, City of Glass)
This was inspired by the scene in City of Glass where Jacy and Clary sleep in the same bed together.
"Please, if we don't say anything, if we just pretend . . ."
"There is no pretending," Jace said with absolute clarity. "I love you, and I will love you until I die. And if there's a life after that, I'll love you then."
She caught her breath. He had said it—the words there was no going back from. She struggled for a reply but none came.
"And I know you think I just want to be with you to . . . to show myself what a monster I am," he said. "And maybe I am a monster; I don't know the answer to that. But what I do know is that even if there is demon blood inside of me, there is human blood inside of me as well, and I couldn't love you like I do if I wasn't at least a little bit human. Because demons wants, and humans love, and I . . ." He stood up then with a sort of violent suddenness and crossed the room to the window. He looked lost, as lost as he had in the great hall standing over Max's body.
"Jace," Clary said, alarmed. And when he didn't answer, she scrambled to her feet and went to him, laying a hand on his arm.
He continued staring out the window. Their reflections in the glass were nearly transparent—ghostly outlines of a tall boy and a small girl, her hand clamped anxiously on his sleeve.
"What's wrong?"
"I shouldn't have told you that," he said, not looking at her. "I'm sorry. That was probably a lot to take in. You looked so . . . shocked." The tension underlying his voice was a live wire.
"I was," she said. "I've spent the past few days wondering if you hated me, and then I saw you tonight and I was pretty sure you did."
"Hated you?" He echoed, looking bewildered. He reached out then and touched her face lightly, just the tips of his fingers against her skin. "I told you I couldn't sleep. Tomorrow by midnight we'll be either at war or under Valentine's rule. This could be the last night of our lives. Certainly the last even barely ordinary one. The last night we go to sleep and get up just as we always have. And all I could think of was that I wanted to spend it with you."
Her heart skipped a beat. "Jace…"
"I don't mean it like that," he said. "I won't touch you, not if you don't want me to. I know it's wrong—God, it's all kinds of wrong. But I just want to lie down with you and wake up with you, just once, just once ever in my life." There was desperation in his voice. "It's just this one night. In the grand scheme of things, how much can one night matter?"
Because think how we'll feel in the morning. Think how much worse it will be pretending we don't mean anything to each other in front of everyone else after we spent the night together, even if all we do is sleep. It's like having just a little bit of a drug. It only makes you want more.
But that was why he had told her what he had, she realized. Because it wasn't true, not for him. There was nothing that could make it worse, just as there was nothing that could make it better. What he felt was as final as a life sentence, and could she really say it was so different for her? And even if she hoped it might be; even if she hoped she might someday be persuaded by time or reason or gradual attrition not to feel this way anymore, it didn't matter. There was nothing she had ever wanted in her life more than she wanted this night with Jace.
"Close the curtains then, before you come to bed," she said. "I can't sleep with this much light in the room."
The look that washed over his face was pure incredulity. He really hadn't expected her to say yes, Clary realized in surprise. And a moment later, he had caught her and hugged her to him, his face buried in her still messy-from-sleep hair.
"Clary…"
"Come to bed," she said softly. "It's late."
She drew away from him and returned to the bed, crawling up onto it and drawing the covers up to her waist. Somehow, looking at him like this, she could almost imagine that things were different; that it was many years from now and they'd been together so long that they'd done this a hundred times; that every night belonged to them, and not just this one. She propped her chin on her hands and watched him as he reached to jerk the curtains shut. And then unzipped his white jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. He was wearing a pale gray T shirt underneath, and the marks that twined his dark arms shone darkly as he unbuckled his weapons belt and laid it on the floor. He unlaced his boots and stepped out of them as he came toward the bed and he stretched out very carefully beside Clary. Lying on his back, he turned his head to look at her. Very little light filtered into the room past the curtains, just enough for her to see the outline of his face and the bright gleam of his eyes.
"Good night, Clary," he said.
His hands lay flat on either side of him, his arms at his sides. He seemed barely to be breathing. She wasn't sure she was breathing herself. She slid her own hand across the bedsheet just far enough that their fingers touched, so lightly that she would probably hardly have been aware of it had she been touching anyone but Jace. As it was, the nerve endings in her fingertips prickled softly, as if she were holding them over a low flame. She felt him tense beside her and then relax. She shifted to her side so she was looking at him, He had his eyes closed, but his body was tense and she could tell he was nowhere near asleep.
"Jace…" she whispered. His eyes opened and he turned toward her, shifting his body sideways as well. He said nothing, just looked at her, the intensity in his eyes unlike anything she had ever seen or felt before. It was magnetic, she realized; this pull toward him was magnetic. It was impossible to resist.
She reached her hand up and lightly touched his cheek, her fingertips brushing the skin of his face. She heard his quick intake of breath. He leaned his head toward her, closing his eyes as if trying to concentrate very hard. Their foreheads touched and Jace looked like something was requiring all of his effort and attention.
"Jace," she said again, curious. His eyes opened again and she saw in them the passion he was holding back. Suddenly she felt it reflected in her own. Her entire body came alive like a live wire. She felt like she was tingling, emitting a sort of electric energy. And suddenly there was nothing in the world she wanted more than to kiss him. Her eyes glanced down at his lips and she watched hungrily as they parted, Jace gasping again. He still didn't move. He held his body rigidly where it was.
And she couldn't help it anymore. The magnetic pull was too strong. The blood rushed in her ears and she leaned forward, brushing her lips against his. A light moan came from Jace and he leaned toward her, kissing her back in earnest. The sound sent a shock down her body and she jerked forward, kissing him roughly. He groaned in defeat and suddenly his hands were everywhere, sliding up and down her body, her camisole slowly riding up her waist. Where his skin met her skin felt like the most delicious flame.