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Owen was in his room when Clary came looking for him. He was looking at some of his old photographs, hanging in the wall next to his bed. He didn't think of himself as 'talented', but he admitted to have the artistic eye of his mother. He knew what to look for, even when it was hard to find, for him it seemed so easy to caught a beautiful moment, and snap a picture of it.
Most of the pictures were of his sister. Clary liked when he took pictures of her, claiming that his passion for photography wasn't surrounding a muse, but the things and people he loved. In Owen's words, Clary was already beautiful with no need of taking artistic pictures of her to prove it, but she always said there was something about Owen and his passion with photography that made her see a side of her she didn't even know was there, a different side of her in every picture.
As his eyes traveled from one picture to another, he found himself staring at the picture of a girl. His heart started aching as he thought of her and all of the damage she caused in his life. Even though he wanted her out of his life –and heart –he couldn't bring himself to take the picture and throw it in the trash, where it rightfully belonged.
"I will never understand why you rejected that offer from NYU," He turned around to see his sister behind him, watching the pictures hanging in the wall as well. "Your talent is something from another dimension, I swear."
"There's no need for you to feed my ego, I can do that myself, Clarissa."
"I just can't believe you rejected the offer. Ever since I can remember, your dream has been to dedicate yourself to photography. I suppose that, now that I have fulfilled my dream, I am surprised that you've deprived yourself of the happiness that comes from fulfilling it." She watched him with sadness in her eyes, not pity. The only emotions swimming in his sister's eyes were sadness and confusion.
"I really appreciate that, Clary. But I'm not ready to focus on my dream right now; there are more important things for me to focus on."
"Oh, really?" she asked with an incredulous look on his face. "Like what?"
"That's for me to solve, and for you to dot dot dot."
"You know I hate that show"
"You love Paul Wesley and you know it." Happy to have changed the subject and distract himself from the girl in the picture, he led Clary out of the room. "Luke must have already arrived, let's say hello, and let's hope he bought you something not so ancient."
He took the jacket that was on the chair at the side of his bed, and put it on. When feeling a cold and hard element pressing against his covered torso, Owen realized that it was the jacket that he uses to hunt demons, because of that he had several knives hiding in the inside of the leather jacket.
