After the greenhouse

If they had gone to Jace’s room …



Taking her hand Jace led Clary down the greenhouse stairs. Her skin seemed to tingle with electricity where it touched his. The Institute was dark and quiet around them. Her skin glowed in the faint light cast by the witchlight rune-stone in her hand. He smiled to himself, glad that he had been able to give her a birthday present when no-one else had.

She caught him casting her a sideways glance as they walked and smiled that bewitching smile of hers.

“You know, I haven’t seen your room yet,” she pointed out.

Jace’s heart suddenly pounded faster. “Do you want me to show you?”

She nodded.

Towing her in another direction he guided her down the corridor. Reaching his room he opened the door for her; she stepped inside and he closed the door behind them.

He suddenly wondered what she would think of his compulsively neat bedroom. The brief glimpse he had had of her own room as he had dragged her unconscious body from her demon infested apartment had revealed bright colours, band posters, scatted clothes and hundreds of drawings and paintings he now knew she had done herself.

Leaning casually against the closed door, he watched as she walked slowly round his room, her fingers trailing lightly over the surfaces. In her baby-blue pyjamas she looked one-hundred-and-eighty degrees different than she had the night before in Izzy’s little black dress as they hunted vampires. But still beautiful. Still heart-poundingly beautiful.

She turned to him and smiled shyly, hesitantly, probably remembering that they were utterly alone in his bedroom. Pushing himself away from the door he walked around his bed towards her and took her hands gently in his.

“Shall we continue our scintillating conversation from earlier?” he asked her.

“You mean the one about bathing in spaghetti?” she asked playfully.

Jace shock his head, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Not that one. Shall I remind you which conversation I mean?”

He leaned forwards and lightly touched his mouth to hers. She went very still, and then kissed him back softly, parting her lips beneath his. Her breath was warm against his skin. He could still very faintly taste apples on her lips.

As their kiss became stronger, more passionate, he found his hands in her wildly curling hair, holding her to him. He shuddered against her, remembering the way she had run her fingers through his hair. Her own hands were on his chest, clutching the material of his t-shirt.

He broke away from her kiss to let his lips travel down her neck and throat, using his grip on her hair to tilt her head to one side.

“Jace,” she gasped as he gently bit her earlobe, dragging it between his teeth.

“Yes?” he asked, surprised to find his own voice just as ragged, before pressing his mouth to hers again, not giving her a chance to reply. He kissed her desperately and she kissed him back. His hands slid down her spine, pressing her close to his body, and came to rest on her hips.

She pulled away.

“No, no, it’s too fast,” she breathed.

Jace nodded and let his forehead rest against hers as they both tried to catch their breath. It was too fast. They had only just met, and Clary wasn’t like the other girls he had known, the girls you flirt with, have some fun with and then forget. She was special.

“You’re right,” he told her. “It’s too easy to get carried away with you. It’s like you’re addictive.”

She gazed up at him, and then bit her lip, distracting him momentarily. He let her go and went to lie on the bed, folding his arms behind his head, worried he’d do something stupid if he stayed that close to her.

Clary glanced at the door, then looked at him almost wistfully. “I should go,” she said.

He didn’t like that. He wanted her to stay, for them to talk properly, like they had in the greenhouse. He didn’t care if he couldn’t kiss her, he just wanted her with him.

“You don’t have to go,” he told her, and patted the mattress beside him.

She hesitated.

Raising his hands in an ‘I surrender’ gesture, he told her “I’ll keep my hands to myself, I swear.”

She grinned and clambered onto the bed next to him. Unable to stop himself, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her loosely against him. She peeked up at him under her eyelashes and smiled, her clear green eyes setting his heart beating quicker again. His hand found a curl of her hair and he gently twirled it round his fingers.

Raising her arm she pointed at the ceiling. “When I was little I used to have glow-in-the-dark stars stuck on my ceiling. I spent hours arranging them into proper constellations and would lie in my bed and stare up at them when I couldn’t sleep.” Her hand traced over her imaginary constellations for a moment before dropping back to rest on his stomach.

“I used to do something similar when I couldn’t sleep. I would go outside and lie on the grass, staring up at the stars. The constellations are different in Idris.”  

“Really?”

Jace nodded. “I think you would love it there. The air smells like pines and there are deep clear rivers. And when the sun shines the Glass City, Alicante, is all lit up like flames.”

“It sounds beautiful,” she sighed.

He hesitated, and then said, “I’d like to take you there. Every Shadowhunter should visit Idris at least once.”

“I’d like that,” she smiled at him, but then her eyes dropped and she frowned. “When all this is sorted.”

Guessing she was thinking of her mother, Jace tilted her chin up, forcing her to met his eyes. “We’ll find her, Clary.” he paused for a moment, and then continued recklessly on, pledging himself to her cause. “I vow to the Angel that we will find her.”

Clary was staring up at him in wonder. “I thought … I thought you didn’t make vows to the Angel if you could avoid it, because you can’t break them?”

“It’s true.”  

She stared at him another long moment. “Thank you,” she breathed.

They lay in companionable silence for a while, until she gave a big yawn. Jace chuckled. “You should probably sleep now,” he told her.

“I can’t go back to my room, Simon’s in there,” she said absently, shaking her head.

He tensed, suddenly angry.

“Simon’s in your bedroom?” He tried his hardest to sound neutral, but his voice betrayed him.

Clary leaned up on her elbows to face him properly. Looking at his irritated expression, she grinned. “Relax, Jace. Simon fell asleep while we were talking. There’s nothing going on between him and me.” She leaned forwards and pressed her lips lightly to his for a moment. “Though it does leave me without a place to sleep tonight,” she murmured against him.

At her touch, he felt the tension draining out of him. Anyone could tell that the Mundane was head over heels for Clary, but her claim of there being nothing but friendship between them was disconcertingly reassuring to him.

“You could always sleep here,” he told her, trying for casualness.  

She smiled condescendingly down at him. “Is that so?” she asked.

He grinned at her tone. “I’ll take the couch – hell, I’d take the floor if you want.”

Glancing down at his hard wooden floor, she smiled beguilingly. “I don’t think that’s necessary. There seems to be enough room here.”

And with that, she snuggled back down against him and yawned again.