The knife hit the edge of the board, but barely. At least it hit the board, Simon thought gloomily. He had never thought being a shadowhunter would be so hard, and at the end of every training session he was soaked with sweat.
A voice in the back of his head said it didn't used to be this hard. Simon told the voice to go screw itself. He needed to focus on training.
Isabelle watched Simon with a critical eye. He wasn't doing that bad, but she was tired and fed up today, and had probably snapped one too many times at Simon.
He went over to the board and yanked the knife out with grim determination. He was going to do this.
Clary had only been training three months, he was told, but she was already so much better than him. It's your first week, Simon reminded himself, don't lose hope.
"Here. Your stance is all wrong." Isabelle beckoned him over, then took the knife and demonstrated. It hit the center of the board.
She took the knife and put it in Simon's hands. "You'll want your arm further back. And switch your legs."
She moved his arm back and made him tilt his head back.
"There. Try that."
He did, and was pleased to see the knife had landed an inch or so closer than it had last time. Isabelle offered a smile.
"Try and throw like that every time. Your body will want to move back, but practise and it'll come naturally."
An awkward silence.
"Why aren't you wearing perfume?" Simon asked suddenly, and immediately regretted it. But she always wore perfume, and somehow she was so different without it.
Isabelle blushed. "I ran out."
A memory hit him then, dizzying and vivid. He heard... Lord Montgomery? He realized he was wearing a puffy white shirt too, and barely had time to remember what Isabelle had said at their meeting when the smell hit him. Blood and roses. Something told him she always smelled like that.
The memory stopped, and Simon put a hand to his head. He felt disorientated, more than usual, and realized his eyes were wide.
"Simon! Simon, what's wrong?" Isabelle rushed over.
He smiled at her. "You- Lord Montgomery- I was wearing a puffy white shirt? Why was I wearing a puffy white shirt?"
Isabelle gasped and threw her arms around Simon, realizing that she was hugging him for the first time in months. Simon felt a wet patch on his shirt where her face was and saw that she was crying. He hugged her back.
They were meant to be training, but for the next few hours Simon shared with Isabelle some memories he had been reluctant to admit to anyone else, and Isabelle explained what they were about, and why he was wearing a puffy white shirt.
Simon lost himself in the world of shadowhunting and weird band names until the door opened, and Jace entered.
"Did I walk in on a moment?" He asked with a smirk.
Isabelle glared at him. "What's the time?"
"Five. Long past the end of your training session." He looked at Simon. "Don't tell me you used your sexy vampire mojo on her."
"What the hell?" Simon said, laughing.
Isabelle said, "Training's over. Tomorrow at ten?"
~~~~
Simon left the small package in front of Isabelle's door.
Inside was a pink bottle of rose perfume, and a small note.
It said, To puffy white shirts and caves.
-Simon