she’s never been drawn to someone so much. not like this. it’s like every piece of her very soul yearns to be close to him, to be within his presence and near him. she wants to understand this feeling of a strong deja vu that tugs somewhere in the back of her mind, urging her to remember….something. something she doesn’t understand. something she’s maybe not ready to. whatever it is, she doesn’t know. but she does know that there’s something about the blonde standing in front of her that speaks to her.
he feels like a dream, one that clary’s sure if she blinks, will be gone in a second. just like her dreams, where she wakes up with wisp like thoughts her mind tries to cling to, something that feels half real, half made up, slipping through her fingers before she can fully understand it. so she tells herself to be careful with how she approaches jace. he seems almost skittish around her for some reason, like she’s one word away from scaring him off for good, and she tells herself to be calm. be patient. or, so she tries. she’s never been good at patience.
his lips forming around her name bring her green gaze back up to meet his, curiosity and confusion sinking deep in hers. his hand reaches up for her, and while she normally doesn’t like anyone touching her without permission, she allows it. welcomes it. the touch sends sparks shooting down her skin, causing her to gasp as his hand drags along her arm. so familiar, yet completely foreign; goosebumps erupt over her skin, and she can feel her pulse quicken, breath trapped in her lungs as she searches him.
he looks sad, and she aches for that, too. he can’t be any older than she is, barely a few years into adulthood, but he seems like he’s already seen so much. his voice rasps out words she wants to hear but can’t focus on, her eyes following the shape his lips make around each syllable instead.
you weren’t supposed to see me. brows furrow at his words, her hand remaining at the edge of his collar as she watches him carefully, gaze darting back up to his. the way he says it…there’s worry in it. a small sense of fear. as though he worries about whatever punishment that’ll fall. she doesn’t care.
this time panic flares in her, the thought of watching him walk away just like she did inside seizing her mind and refusing to let go. choppy red hair flies around her eyes as she shakes her head, trying to think of something that’ll stall him.
“wait, i… please? i need..” her voice is small and vulnerable when she trails off, tongue darting out to wet her lips. she needs, what? to ask him questions she can’t think of? ask him why he seems to know her and yet she can only remember the barest bit of him? ask him why she remembers him, in the first place?
“i mean. you came for the show, right? the art show? you were there, so…obviously you did. i.. do you want to come in? i can show you the different pieces, if you want.”
closing his eyes, the shadowhunter takes a deep breath, steadying himself, as clary’s gasp pierces the air; and his heart. he feels unsteady on his feet, like his hand closed around her is the only thing keeping him up. jace’s hand moves unhurriedly along her pale skin, the goosebumps he leaves in his wake all too familiar to him. he swallows softly, fingertips a gentle caress.
the ache in his chest as she gazes back at him is something he’ll never forget. green eyes are alight, ablaze with curiosity, with confusion, burning into him like no others ever could, or ever would again. and he knows she can feel it. the familiarity that he feels at the simplest touch. he can see it in her eyes. in the way she seems unable to look away from him any more than he can force himself to look away from her;
but one of them has to. and it should be him.
still, clary’s small hand remains tucked against him, holding onto the collar of his shirt, barely an inch of her skin touching his, and still, it feels as though that one small piece of him is burning.
instinctively, it seems, he turns back to her.
mismatched eyes take in her panic-stricken face and he feels his resolve crumbling, falling away entirely until he’s left staring at her with an unguarded look.
jace looked back at the night behind them, the noise he’d heard just moments before that had pulled him out of his daze, reminded him where he was. who he was. and what he was doing. the danger he could be putting her in.
she had seen him, though. she could see him now. he looked back at her again, intent upon her eyes. whatever danger he was putting her in, he would not leave her to face it alone. not again. all he’d wanted was one look at her. one look at her on her night. but one look had turned to two, and then three, and now, here they were, and he was unable to look away from her. he doubted he ever would again.
“yeah, i.. came for the show.” it wasn’t a complete lie. jace had come for the show. he’d come to see the artwork she’d chosen to display to everyone. he’d come to see what thoughts and what feelings pulled at her heart. what stirred inside her. what moved her enough to put it onto canvas. and while clary had her art, and he was thankful for it. for the purpose she’d found displaying her emotions through it, there was nothing, nobody, that meant more to him, that filled him with more purpose, than his love for clary.
“i’d like to see all of it.”
turnnoffyourmind
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