“Is there any reason as of why your beloved Shadowhunter is wearing one of your stupid shirts?” Kyle asks.
Simon doesn’t understand why Jace keeps popping up in his room and touching his arms and being ten-times more attractive around Simon than he does anyone else. Mundane/Human AU.
Simon’s had too much to drink. Magnus is the not-so-innocent victim. Jace contemplates suicide. Kyle wants to murder them all.
“I know what that means,” Jace snaps.
“Really,” Simon deadpans. “Cause I’m pretty sure the last time you got laid was around the time before Clary broke up with you, and that’s a long time ago, dude.”
the mortal instruments. City of ashes posters 3
uhm, is this supposed to be spanish or something? cause if it’s not clear enough, i only speak english and indonesian, sorry ;___;
“Where’s Simon?” Clary asks, looking around. He’s not there. She rubs her eyes with the back of her hand, mud and dust slip underneath her eyelids, but she doesn’t stop.
“Where is Simon?!” she snaps, her voice becomes shaky and heavy, tears well up in her eyes. From her left, Jace coughs roughly. He forces big rock away from his back and looks at her, wide-eyed. She can see Isabelle standing up from the corner of her eyes and Magnus helping Alec to his feet, but there’s still no sign of Simon.
“SIMON!” she shouts at the top of her lungs in panic, her lips tremble and her body shaking so bad that she almost falls. Clary tries to stand still, calling for Simon’s name—
She stops, looking at the source of voice. It’s Magnus. He looks pained and sad, yet there’s anger and something else on his face as he speaks.
“Camille. He left with her. He—“
She doesn’t hear the rest and finally falls into unconsciousness.
The ground is wet and slippery against his feet. His shoes are shattered along with his shirt; the buttons are ripped, and the black thick materials shattered into million pieces. He looks to his left and sees Camille staring at him with her big emerald eyes; studying him, waiting for his next move. He shifts and flinches. She walks up to him and lays a palm on his ribs, where Jace had stabbed him with Michael.
“I did it myself, it’s—it’s fine. It’s fine.” Camille looks at him, this time with worry, genuine and not at all feigning like most of his friends, even Clary, did, and he sighs.
“Let’s just… let’s just go. Alright?” he asks, desperate, removes her hand from his ribs and squeezes. She nods.
“London it is then.”
“I guess I can’t help thinking that if I’d known the truth, I wouldn’t have met Jace the way I did. I wouldn’t have fallen in love with him.”
Simon was silent for a moment. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that before.”
“That I love him?” She laughed, but it sounded dreary even to her ears. “Seems useless to pretend like I don’t, at this point. Maybe it doesn’t matter. I probably won’t ever see him again, anyway.”
“He’ll come back.”
“He’ll come back,” Simon said again. “For you.”