Remember | The Mortal Instruments AU

Chapter Twenty Four: Home

I slowly turn around, scared to see the truth. That she was here. Right next to me. My eyes are stinging from the tears climbing into my eyes, ever so slowly, as I take in the sight of the love of my life. Clary Fray. Right here, right now.

She's staring into the distance, in her own little world, refusing to look at me- making these few seconds feel like hours. It's like everything is happening in slow motion, my ears ringing as if I've been hit, my eyes unable to look at anything but her, blurring out the rest of the world. Of course, the one time I might be able to talk to her, she wouldn't even look at me.

I take her all in, from her bright, fiery red hair that blazes in the sunlight, the pale skin setting the hair even brighter, the green eyes that refuse to look anywhere near me. I see her hair slowly flow in the air as she turns around so that her body is facing mine. I see her hand slowly move from halfway up in the air, as if to protect herself subconsciously, before moving slowly back to her side. I see the way her top moves slowly to the side as well with her jacket because of her movements.

All of a sudden it's like time catches up with itself as her eyes move towards the ground quickly and she realises at the same time I do that she's dropped her folder.

We drop to the floor at the same time, simultaneously, as if in sync with each other. I try my best to catch all her drawings before they go into the road but the change in how time flowed is hard to keep up with. The transition from slow to normal, makes me feel sick, as though I've been spinning around for hours without stopping and I've only just been able to stop.

"Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going," I say apologetically because this was my fault, I should have been paying attention to where I was going but I had just been so annoyed with Simon that I hadn't been able to think, to feel anything other than wanting to punch him- repeatedly. And now because of me, she might lose her drawings, something I know mean the world to her. Not to mention, I'm still terrified that something bad will happen to her because of seeing me.

I quietly laugh but it's out of nervousness, not humour. It's out of stupidity. It's out of trying to make this situation better than it currently is. My laugh sounds breathy and ridiculously shaky, making my nervousness - and showing I was scared - so much more apparent.

As my vision and body catch up with the flow of time being back to normal, my hands move quicker and quicker, trying to pick up the drawings as quick as possible, so that they don't go into the road and get destroyed.

"Just- just please help me get my drawings, I need them," her voice is shaky, as if she's just as scared as I am.

Shut up, Jace. She can't remember you. Stop it.

But if that was true... why did she sound scared? Why is she psychically shaking?

"Here," I pass her drawings over to her, carefully, making sure I don't ruin any of her drawings- she might kill me otherwise. I knew how important they were to her and I couldn't let let them get ripped or destroyed because of me.

As she takes the drawings, her hands draw my line of sight. They're small, pale and flecked with tiny scars and paint. Nothing out of the ordinary. But that's the thing, they were the exact same. Just like she was. Everything about her was the exact same- sure she had aged two years but she still looked the same. Still made my heart stop and burn with the hottest fire that there wasn't anything left at the end.

She's shaking, I'm shaking and we're both trying to hide it. My eyes close for a couple seconds, pushing the tears back down while slightly shaking my head as if to say, grow some balls you little baby.

The little scars remind me of our past, the first time I taught her how to protect herself at Hotel Dumont and after that, how I trained her so she could fight, so she could be what she was born to be. What she was meant to be. It gives me so many memories of our training sessions, of times I saw her fight with everything in her, how she always fought, even from the start, as if she could feel it in her blood. It reminds me of just one of the thousands of reasons I love her. It reminds me of my warrior.