prompt: “Is that my shirt?”
OTP: Clace
Admin: Darker
“Is that my shirt?” Jace arched an amused brow, watching Clary with something of a hungry gaze.
His presence startled her, and she jumped up nearly half a foot. “Jace,” She breathed, wheeling to face him, suddenly conscious she was wearing only his sweatshirt and lacy panties. Her red hair fell in untamed tumbles around her shoulders and down her back. “You--what are you doing here?”
“Luke let me in,” He shrugged, stepping into her bedroom with ease and shutting the door behind himself. Clearly, Luke didn’t feel the need to warn Clary when he let her boyfriend in. “It looks good on you.”
Clary tugged at the hem, and then sighed. It was no use trying to cover up--the sweatshirt was large enough it covered all the important bits, and Jace had seen her in worse. “Do you want it back?” She asked softly.
He’d lent it to her a few nights ago when she’d got caught in the rain on her way to training at the Institute and she hadn’t gotten around to giving it back just yet; mostly because she didn’t really want to.
Jace let out a soft laugh, brushing her hair out of her face with cool fingers, almost subconsciously. “Not at all,” He grinned. “While I think we both know that I look good in just about everything....you, Clary Fairchild, look gorgeous. Especially in that sweater. In fact, I wouldn’t care if you never took it off.” He hesitated, his fingers playing at the bottom hem of the shirt. “Actually,” he ducked low, his voice a heady murmur in her hears. “Scratch that. Feel free to take it off.”
Clary rolled her eyes, but she sagged against Jace, letting him support her weight. She’d been having vivid nightmares about Valentine and Sebastian recently, and she’d barely slept.
Jace seemed to notice her distress, taking her easily into his arms, where she fit best.
“It’s a comfort thing,” Clary admitted, mumbling into Jace’s chest. “It smells like you, and--and reminds me of you. And it makes me feel--”
“--like getting naked?”
“Safe,” Clary finishes, unable to fight the small smile playing at her lips.
Jace stills at that, and she realizes that confession meant more to him than anything else she could have said. After everything with Lilith, all Jace wanted was to know Clary still felt safe around him.
“I make you feel safe,” He repeats, in a quiet tone. There is something like awe in his voice.
She stretches up on her toes, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her nose into the hollow of his throat. “Yes,” She replied simply, feeling a sense of peace wash over her as she settled against him. “Yeah, Jace. You make me feel safe.”
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