I Hate You (IN EDITING)

Chapter 13

I think he made it worse. What could that possibly mean? Clary certainly had no idea, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. Clary turned her body, the sheets wrapping around her in true cocoon fashion, and she groaned, untangling herself from the sheets. Sitting up in bed, Clary looked over to Isabelle, who was sound asleep, and snoring lightly. She didn't have the heart to wake Isabelle, so Clary quietly grasped for her sketch book, finding purchase, when her hand went to the floor. Next to it, were her pencils. She gingerly left the bedroom, closing the door behind herself.

XXX

Clary had found something new to sketch; the water. She sat, just at the water's edge, her feet in the water. The sounds of the small waves breaking, were oddly comforting. Clary knew she should be sleeping; she hadn't slept well in so long, it was almost driving her to insanity. She knew, though, it wasn't sleep deprivation driving her to slowly to insanity. It was a certain boy. One with gold eyes and hair. I think he made it worse. The words teased at Clary's mind, sending her mind spiralling to what Magnus could have meant. She bit down on her lip, as she focused intensely, something she found herself doing often. For the first time in days, her head wasn't spinning.

-*#*-

The ground shifted beneath her, as she shifted, herself. The heat was not unwelcome, but the bright light certainly was. "Clary?" A gentle voice asked, shaking her softly. "Clary, wake up."

Clary sat up, rubbing at her eyes, not even bothering to smooth down her hair; whoever was waking up sleeping beauty, would have to get a look at sleeping beauty. She was almost certain she looked like a racoon; the dark bags under her eyes from sleepless nights, the messy nest of red curls. Her eyes finally focused, staying open completely.

Her "prince" just happened to be someone who couldn't even be bothered to comb his hair. Alec.

"Alec?" Clary grumbled, her voice thick with sleep, as the confusion set in; there was an imprint of her body in the sand, sand all over her shirt, shorts, sketch book. "Huh?" Clary said, half to herself. Alec's hand held her arm, as he looked her over. "We're on the beach," he said. Clary nodded. "I know, I just-I don't remember falling asleep."

"You almost gave Isabelle and Magnus a heart attack this morning, when they woke up and you were gone." Alec said, making Clary's stomach churn with guilt for scaring them like that. "Sorry, I just-" Clary cut off. "I couldn't sleep."

Alec gave her a sympathetic look. "Again?" He asked. "How long has it been since you've had a good nights sleep?" Clary gave a shrug in response. "Well, then, come on," Alec said, holding out his hands to her. She accepted them gratefully, allowing him to full her to her feet. Brushing off her clothes, Clary picked up her pencils and sketch book.

They walked in silence, and Clary assumed Alec didn't think she noticed the worried glances he'd send her every few steps. "What did her mean?" Clary blurted, wanting to take back the words almost instantly. He furrowed his eyebrows in question. "Magnus, I mean. When he said 'I think he made it worse'?" Alec sighed. "You don't remember, do you Clary?"

This time, it was Clary's turn to give Alec a questioning look. "Remember what?" Clary demanded. "I shouldn't even be telling you this," Alec muttered, but then stopped walking altogether, and looked Clary in the eyes, bending down to be on her level, grabbing her by the shoulders. "You can not-I repeat, can not-tell anyone I told you this, got it?"

"Okay," Clary shrugged, not seeing what could be that big of a deal she couldn't tell anyone. Alec took a deep breath. "You remember the crash Jonathan and your Dad were in, right?" He asked, his face abnormally pale. Clary squinted at him slightly. "Yeah, they both died on impact," Clary said, trying to keep her voice even and devoid of emotion. Alec shook his head. "No, that's wrong. Only your Dad did-Jonathan was alive for a few minutes afterwards."