We are the last ones

alive

WELL WELL THANKS FOR 1k VIEWS!!!!!!

Clary's eyelids fluttered open, and she opened and closed her fists, as if she were hoping to find her stele.
No luck.
She ran a hand over her clothes, as if expecting them to still be wet.
Sebastian had changed her, she thought as her feet come to contact with the cold tile floor.
Perhaps the old her would've felt the urge to change immediately, but right now she wasn't bothered by it at all.
She tip-toed out of the room, and down-stairs.
Jace and Sebastian where both sprawled on the couch, joysticks in their hands. Clary blinked a few times to take the image in, as if the two could ever be normal teenagers.
She stood in the doorway for a what seemed an eternity... until Sebastian said, "are you going to stand there all day or perhaps deign us of your presence, little sister?"
Jace glanced up at this sentence, and seeing Clary standing right there, he did a double-take.
"Clary?" his eyes became two tiny cracks. Clary twirled a strand of her hair casually between her fingers, trying not to look awkward.
"Sebastian," Jace began.
"No, Jace, I did not force her to come here, indeed, she would've died-"
"Oh, spare me."
"I won't go back," interrupted Clary, and Jace stood up, grabbing his weapon's belt from the floor.
"yes, you sure as hell are," Jace grabbed her elbow and he pulled her in front of a wall.
"Jace," Sebastian's tone was warning, his body tense, "she will remain here."
"No, she won't," Jace growled.
Clary wriggled free of his grasp, taking a step backwards.
"Yes, i do what i want, Jace."
He turned to face her.
"Fine."

Jordan pushed the door of the bar open, and stopped as a dozen of werewolves gazes fixed on him.
Precisely, they fixed on his Praetor Lupus necklace, and he had to use ever ounce of self control to not use a hand to cover it.
"I'm looking for Simon Lewis."
"The vampire is upstairs," spat a female werewolf.
Jordan's fist tensed, until he felt Maia's feathery touch on his arm.
"It's this way," she said, and her voice rang clear in the deadly silence. Jordan nodded, then followed her.
Maia was still close to indifferent towards him- a hey if he was with Simon or a nod if she saw him in the street, which had happened only once by the way.
It's not like Jordan was a complete loser, couldn't find another girlfriend- it's just he only wanted Maia. Only ever wanted her. He felt as if he was going to go mad if she ignored him a second longer; though perhaps he already was...
Maia guided Jordan upstairs, keeping herself a few meters in front, not even at arm reach. Jordan's heart ached and his mind started playing jokes on him, replaying those kisses with Maia from over a year ago, from before the accident. The feel of her skin on his skin, her mouth on his mouth, joined together, melted together and made hard again.
Maia stopped, and Jordan walked right into her, distracted as he was.
She jerked backwards and growled, revealing her fangs.
Jordan put his hands up, palms forwards, as if saying 'i'm sorry.'
Maia scowled but she retracted her fangs, her features going from lupin to human again, her ears smoothing out.
She jutted her chin out at the door, and Jordan understood he had to open it.

Magnus' kitchen table was strewn with books. Books on ancient demon rituals, books on demonology, books on bonding ceremonies.
So far, he had found nothing.
The level of frustration was getting dangerously high, so before he burst he'd sent Isabelle and Alec to the institute to retrieve a few books that he really didn't need, just to keep them away.
He ran a hand through his jet black hair, that for once wasn't immersed in glitter, then he resumed the translation of a book in archaic cthonian. Not that Magnus couldn't speak it, it was just he was a bit slower in this version of the language, where there was almost no head or tail, no part to begin, where it almost all up to the reader to decipher.