I had originally intended for this to be a one-shot, but the question of the morning after kept nagging at my mind. I couldn't think of anything new to write, so I decided to answer the voice in my head. This was written in a hurry when I went to work with my mom. I was going to put this up on it's own, but I decided not to, even thought I wrote it it's own description. I'll put that in here to make the story feel good about itself.
Description: You know what sucks? Being in love with someone who doesn't love you back. You know what sucks even more? Being in love with someone who does love you back, but both of you know you can't ever be together.
Waking up next to Clary was like not waking up at all. What I mean to say is that it was like I was still dreaming. I half expected to wake up again, alone this time, and have to accept that last night hadn't happened. But, as I watched her sleep, slowly breathing in and out, the faint ghost of a smile that lit up her perfect face, I came to realize that this was no dream at all. I was really here, and so was she. I allowed my fingers to lightly run up and down her bare arm. She stirred slightly, frowning. Her eyes snapped open, and I grinned at her, proping myself up on my elbow.
"Good morning," I whispered softly, "Sleep well?" As Clary looked at me, her brow furrowed.
"I have to go," She said suddenly, wrapping the sheet around herself and jumping out of bed. I frowned, watching her collect her cloths off the floor.
"Why? Clary, it's six in the morning, we don't leave for Idris for another twelve hours at the least. Just come lay down, go back to sleep," I told her. She just shook her head.
"I can't, Jace," She whispered, picking up the pillows we had so carelessly thrown on the floor, "Last night was... "
"Last night was amazing," I said confidently. She kept shaking her head, fast then slow, back and forth. She closed her emerald eyes.
"Last night was a mistake," Clary said, "We need to forget about it." Her words hit me like a hard blow to the chest, cutting off my oxygen and making me dizzy. Of course last night had been a mistake. It was a horrible, aching mistake. But it had been wonderful, too.
"So that's it?" I asked her fiercly, "We're just going to pretend like nothing ever happened? I can't do that, Clary! This isn't something that can just go away! I love you!"
Clary flinched pulling her shirt down. She shook her head again, as if trying to clear it, and that was when the horrible truth hit me. Of all the times I'd told her I loved her, she had never said it back to me. Not once. Had I been wrong to assume she felt the same way about me as I did about her, misinterpreted her actions and words? Had I unknowingly forced her into last night? These questions and more flooded my head, sickening me to the point that I thought I might vomit.
"You never loved me, did you?" I said, slapping my hand to my forehead. I had been so incredibly stupid. Clary stared at me, her mouth half open, her eyes glaring with rage.
"How dare you," She seethed at me, "How dare you even think that I never loved you! I always loved you, Jace! I still love you! Don't you ever say I don't love you!" Her voice was rising, and soon I was afraid the whole Institute would hear her. "Do you think I want to forget? Because if you do, you're wrong, you asshole! I have to forget, ok? And so do you." Her tone softened, and she looked away from me. Tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them back, determined not to let her see me cry.
"Fine," I whispered, "I'll forget last night. But you can't make me forget what I feel about you."
"Neither can I," Clary said gently. He tone was almost expressionless, as smooth as the stone that her face had become. "But I can ignore it."
She walked swiftly to the door and opened it in one smooth motion. It closed soundlessly behind her, letting a small sliver of light into the otherwise dark room. For a while, I stared at the door, convinced that if I looked at it long enough she might come back. Of course, she didn't come back, and I didn't bother to follow her.
I would ignore what happened last night, if only for her. It killed me, because, for once, I had actually found someone who could kill me like this; from the inside out, one heart string at a time. It was a cruel joke that the only girl I ever loved was my sister. But then again, I had to have known something like this would be what did me in. I could almost hear my father's cold voice echoing in my head, repeating the lesson he had taught me so long ago.
"To love is to destroy."