You Can’t Just Keep Grabbing At Me

She Had No Recollection, Later, Of Having Decided What To Do Next, Or Of Having Hunted For Something To Wear, But Somehow She Was Hurrying Down The Stairs, Dressed In Shadowhunter Gear, The Letter In One Hand And The Chain With The Ring Clasped Hastily Around Her Throat.

She Opened Her Mouth To Answer, But He Was Already Kissing Her. She Had Kissed Him So Many Times—soft Gentle Kisses, Hard And Desperate Ones, Brief Brushes Of The Lips That Said Good-bye, And Kisses That Seemed To Go On For Hours—and This Was No Different. The Way The Memory Of Someone Who Had Once Lived In A House Might Linger Even After They Were Gone, Like A Sort Of Psychic Imprint, Her Body Remembered Jace. Remembered The Way He Tasted, The Slant Of His Mouth Over Hers, His Scars Under Her Fingers, The Shape Of His Body Under Her Hands.

Maybe That Was Why She Couldn't Cry, She Realized, Staring Dry-eyed At The Ceiling. Because What Was The Point In Crying When There Was No One There To Comfort You? And What Was Worse, When You Couldn't Even Comfort Yourself?

So It's True. You Can Walk In Sunlight. I Thought Perhaps It Might Have Worn Off." "if I Feel The Urge To Burst Into Flames, I'll Let You Know.

Enormous? Did You Just Call Me Fat? I Am Not Fat. - Jace