Author's Note: Hey! This chapter will have an Izzy P.O.V, but it will start with a Clary one. There will probably be Clace in this chapter, so, yeah, enjoy.
Clary
Getting back to Jace's house, Will tells us he has to visit someone, but he'll be back later for a slumber party. He gets on his motorcycle that he had hid behind a few trees this morning, and races off down the path.
Jace and I walk inside and head towards the kitchen.
"Are you hungry?" he asks.
"Yeah, starved," I moan, rubbing my stomach. He chuckles and grins at me before pulling out his waffle maker. I hop in my seat at the kitchen island seeing it. Jace makes the best waffles in world, always has.
"You are a saint!" I sigh. He smiles at me over his shoulder, but doesn't say anything. He would usually throw out a cocky comment like, "Oh, you got that right sweet-cheeks," but he doesn't this time. I shrug and watch as he begins making his own batter. When some splashes over the edge of the too small bowl onto his shirt, he screams. Literally, screams in sadness and outrage that makes me jump...
"Jace, relax. I'll wash it for you if you want," I tell him as he looks down at the stain mournfully.
"But this is my favorite shirt," he whines and pouts. I half expect for his to stomp his not so little foot, but he settles for crossing his arms like a toddler. I laugh as he effectively smears the batter even more over his shirt front.
"It's just black t-shirt you baby. You probably have another five in your drawer," he nods, proving how right I am. I walk up and stand in front of him.
"Come on, up arms my little toddler," I tell him. He smiles goofily and raises his arms over his head. I tug the hem up until it reaches his neck.
"If you wanted to see me shirtless, you just had to ask," Jace mutters, his voice muffled by the black cotton over his mouth. I roll my eyes and yank the shirt over his head with a little more force than necessary.
Jace's hair sticks up at random spikes around his head and there's batter on his chin from the shirt. I swipe it off and dab it on his nose instead. He goes cross eyed trying to see it which makes me laugh. I walk down the hall into the laundry room.
Jace follows close behind and leans against the doorframe as I switch on the light.
"Aren't I impressive?" he asks, gesturing to his chest and abs. I shrug. I knew Jace was attractive, I did grow up with him, and I had no doubt he would just get better looking with age. He was muscular and lean, not to mention tanned the last time I saw him. A pool party at Kaelie Whitewillow's house in grade 12 was the event that made me realize my friend had gone hot.
"If you don't remember, I have seen you shirtless," I scrunch up is shirt and toss it into the washing machine. Just like when we were kids, Jace has his clothes in meticulous piles, not one article of clothing out of place.
I grab his darks pile and throw them in as well. I add the liquid detergent and put it on a cotton wash cycle and turn to see Jace has disappeared from the doorway. I shrug before turning off the light and making my way back to the kitchen.
Jace is still shirtless, but from behind, I can see black strings tied around his hips and neck, those are apron strings. I giggle at the thought of Jace in an n apron and sit at the island.
"I'm mad at you, I hope you know that," he says over his shoulder. My face drops. Is he serious right now?
"Why?" I ask. I never liked it when Jace was mad at me.
"You completely disregarded my god-like status, Clarissa! I am gorgeous, a stud muffin, quite a ham among the older gals! You are lucky to have grown up seeing me shirtless," he says. He is partially frustrated, yet he is definitely not angry. I know exactly how to spin this like a top.
"Well what about me?" I ask appalled. He freezes, but doesn't turn. I see his muscles go rigid and his ear perk up, "The last time you saw me, I was a little girl, and now I'm a woman. WITH CURVES! And you haven't told me how smexy I've gotten!" I yell back at him, barely suppressing my laughs.
He turns and I finally see the front of the apron. It's a frilly French maid apron. My mouth hits the ground and he stares at me in confusion. When I howl with laughter, he looks down at his current state of dress and cracks a smile.
"W-Why are you wearing that?" I ask only to break into another fit.
"Will got it for me for Christmas, and I didn't want to dirty another shirt," he explains, looking down at it with an affirmative nod. I just shake my head at this. One time, Jace wore a wonder woman silhouette t-shirt to school because Will got it for him for Christmas. (The ones with the big boobs and outfit, but only shows up to the neck, so it looks like you're really wonder woman. Yes, Jace wore that.)
I just smile at him, remembering. I realize how much I truly missed him. His snarky comments, his crazy antics, and his ability to be the best friend anyone could ever ask for. I get off my stool and walk up to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. The ruffles of his apron crinkle slightly as he reciprocates my hug.
"Don't worry, I was still going to give you waffles you know," he whispers into my curls.
"Please, I'd tie-wrap you to a lamppost naked before I let you eat my waffles," I scoff, then snuggle into his chest again, inhaling his sun-warmed scent, "I've just really missed you these past five years," I tell him. He hugs me tighter.
"Well, I don't plan on letting you slip away again anytime soon," he informs me. I sigh contentedly. We stay like that until a cheery ding breaks us apart.
"That my dear, are the waffles," I smile up at him, then shove him to get to the waffles.
"Ruthless," he chuckles as he grabs two plates.
Izzy
They drive off and Clary seems very happy to flip me a very unladylike gesture. I sigh and go back inside. We never wanted to hurt her, really. She'd been working hard lately, and Simon was lonely. It started innocent. Playing games, watching movies, having stupid eating competitions that Clary would always join in on when she had the chance, but somewhere along the way, it wasn't so innocent anymore.
Whenever Simon and I went out, people thought we were a couple and would comment how cute we were. We'd immediately correct them, saying how he was married, and not to me, to my best friend, and then things would get super awkward.
Soon, we just started going along with it, smiling and nodding. Then one night, Simon asked what it would be like if we were actually together. We kissed and everything got really messy, really fast. He planned to end things, and I felt guilty, but he wasn't happy in the marriage anymore, and this had to be better than us sneaking around.
Clary finding out that way was completely unplanned, but rather relieving. I brought some of my stuff over last night, per Simon's suggestion. We were going to be together. Now, Clary was hurt, and I deserve whatever she did with those hot guys she was with.
I laugh bitterly. In other circumstances, I'd be the one helping her with revenge, not being the recipient of it.
I enter each room, the pranks getting worse with each step. Bubbles fill the bathroom. When I go to the bedroom, the door won't open because of something slick on the handle/ when I finally wipe it off enough to get a good grasp on the door; I see all of Simon's things are painted black. There's a weird powder covering his clothes.
I nearly cry when I see what they did to my things. My shoes are covered in glue and stuck together. The shirts all have a red 'A' on the front, for adulterer. My pants and skirts are ripped to shreds. My favorite creams are emptied who knows where.
I go into the kitchen and see everything seems normal. I need cookies and milk. I grab the Oreos and pour myself a glass of strangely think milk. Simon must have gotten whole this time. Sitting at the table, I take an entire cookie into my mouth and immediately recoil from the plate. Well, that is definitely mayo.
I grab the milk to wash the taste away after spitting as much out as I could. When the cool liquid hits my taste buds, I nearly throw up. They filled the carton with paint, fabulous.
Deciding I can't stay in this house alone any more, I go to the museum to get Simon. He says he hasn't had much work lately. The exhibit Clary thinks he's working on was just another lie to get him out of the house to see me. I really am a mistress. I sigh, knowing there is probably more hell to be paid, but right now, I'm broke.
The End (Of this Chapter)
HAHAHAH! KIDDING!
Clary
I polish off my waffles, sitting across from Jace at the kitchen table. He is still wearing his ridiculous apron and I'm feeling a slight buzz.
"What'd you put in those waffles?" I slur. It's only noon, darn. Sense the sarcasm.
"Rum, lots of that," he slurs as well. I giggle for some unknown reason. He smiles at me.
"I like when you laugh,"
I sigh, "Me too," we lapse into silence until Jace abruptly breaks it.
"Truth or dare,"
"Ahhh, I've been waiting for this Jace to rear its head," Jace always has and always will love truth or dare, "Truth,"
"BOOEY!" he yells pouting, "I had a perfect dare! Fine, who was your first kiss?" he asks. Weird, doesn't he know?
"Um Jace, we've been over this. It was you," I sip my chocolate milk. He looks at me like this is completely new information and points to himself, effectively poking himself in the eye. He rubs it mournfully.
"Noooooo I wasn't," he says.
"Uh yeah, you were. We were 14 and Will dares you to kiss me because he shipped it or something like that," I tell him, recalling a cute little Jace with huge, dark-rimmed glasses.
He gasps, "I stole your first kiss," he whispers sadly. I feel a strange need to comfort him.
"You didn't steal anything. It was nice Jace," I tell him.
"But I wouldn't have done it if I knew it was your first. That was something special. I didn't deserve sweet Clary's first kiss," he tells me.
"But it was special. You're my best friend. Would you rather my first kiss was with Sebastian Verlac under the bleachers? Or with Jordan Kyle in the middle of the hallway?" I ask him. They were short term boyfriends Jace did not approve of. He grits his teeth.
"No, or rat boy at Spring Formal," that one happened too. I sigh.
"Yeah, or that. I'm glad it was with you. My best friend who is one of the only guys that truly cares about me," I tell him. He smiles and pulls me into a hug.
"Anyways, truth or dare," I ask into his chest.
"Truth,"
"Who was your first kiss?" I ask.
"You" he tells me. I jerk back. Jace was always bragging about kissing the prettiest girls.
"No way," I say disbelieving.
"Yeah way," he smiles, "I had to keep a good rep for Will, but you were my first Miss Fray," he tells me.
"So we exchanged first kisses," I whisper. He nods. I smile because that was the sweetest thing I've ever heard.
"Truth or dare," he twirls a loose curl around his finger.
"Dare" I tell him.
"Kiss me," he replies, eyes locked on my curl. I freeze.
"What?" I ask. He looks into my eyes intensely.
"You are about to start a whole new life. A life as a single, young woman. Just like you started life as a 14 year old girl as a high schooler, you're beginning again. I want to be the first kiss of that life too," he tells me. I think about it. He was my first kiss before dating. He should be my first kiss as a newly single woman.
An ice breaker then, a part of healing now. I nod.
His lips descend on mine. The pressure comes a split second later. His lips were warm and sweet from the waffles and syrup. He parts my mouth with him, making a fore burn in the pit of my stomach, flames licking through my body, making blush blood color my skin.
He sighs, making my hands lace up his arms lightly as he hugs onto my waist. I'm on my very tip-toes and he bends down to reach my lips. His mouth us hot and soft, comforting. Just how I remember it.
A shrill ring breaks the spell we're under. He reluctantly pulls back and pulls his phone from his front apron pocket. His hair is rumples and his lips are swollen. There is a small trickle of blood coming from where I must have bitten him.
"Hey Will," he says huskily. I hear Will' slaughter from the phone and Jace blushes, looking at me.
"Of course not. All we did was eat waffles," a pause, "Yes, I'm wearing the apron you got me," pause, "yes, and she digs it. Okay. Sure, see you then," he hangs up and looks at me. I wipe the blood from his chin and show him.
He begins to laugh and grabs a napkin to wipe my finger, then holds it up to his lip.
"Will is going to be here in an hour. We're going to a club, so we should get ready," he informs me, smiling. I nod. He brushes past me, but turns back at the last minute and leans down to my ear.
"By the way, you have certainly got curves. And you were always the sexiest girl on the playground, in the halls, and in my kitchen," he's gone and I sag against the counter. What the hell does this mean?
Author's Note: Izzy just becomes more of a lady dog every time I write her. I don't know why she's going rogue on me! I didn't intend for her to be this horrible, as far as mistresses go!