“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.”
Her footsteps are soft, always soft, but he hears it all the same. Simon’s head lays on the pillow, his neck stiff and hurt, his hair tangled in black messy locks around his face. There are biting marks from the below of his ears down to his jugular, red angry trails her sharp polished nails across his chest, and two deep wounds on his left shoulder where she had bitten him. They are healing, he knows, but he wishes they won’t. For every new scar, there’s a new lesson and history in each one of them, she had told him on the second day of their training. Camille had smiled, a little bit tad too sad, and told him to attack her. She won fourteen times, but at the fifteenth, he had kissed her and he won for the first time. There were bruises too, but they all had disappeared.
And now, even at nights they were alone, she always disappears to fetch food for him, because he is still not good enough or clean to hunt. He wishes he can learn faster, but more oft than not, he wishes not to learn faster, because they both had sworn to themselves, that when it’s done, they will disappear from each other’s life and return to whatever their homes have left to offer.
Simon shuts his eyes and forces himself to sleep.
“Eternity is a long time to spend alone, without others of your kind.”
“I have a… proposition to make with you, Lady Belcourt.” Cain says, shoving his thick black fringe back, revealing the Mark of Cain freshly painted on his forehead. She thinks it’s not going to disappear for a while. She knows she’s right the moment he tells her what he wants.
“Train me to be a vampire, and a hunter… and I’ll grant your wish.” He finishes, a bit doubtfully in the end, but he says it anyway. She stares at his face, searching for something, and finds a lot of things. Despite his threats and the corpses behind him, she guesses he really is just a boy after all.
But then she shifts her attention to the floor, finds her guards and her family clan all dead, and she inhales sharply although she doesn’t need to. The lights are broken and there’s burning mark all over the walls, down to the floor, reaching the ceiling. It’s the Mark of Cain.
It’s the first time in a long time that Camille feels like she’s going to break. Her new recruits are all gone, and she has Cain—the Black Raven, the Daylighter, formerly known as Simon Lewis—to thank for it. He smiles like an angel falling from grace, makes a deal with her better than the crossroad demons, and she really has no choice at this doesn’t she?
“You hold your end of the bargain…” she starts, voice soft, knees buckle, body trembling. “And I’ll hold mine.”
Cain smiles, and reaches for her face.
“It’s a deal.” He says before crushing his lips to hers.
“You’ll miss me when you’re gone,” she said, licking her lips. Simon leaned close, brushed his lips softly against hers, and said nothing. “The three weeks you’ll have to pass, for your Shadowhunter friends and Magnus, you will—“
“I know, Camille,” he whispered, smelling the scent of grapes and apple from her soft golden hair, pulling her close. “I know.”
magnus & camille (city of fallen angels) requested by anonymous.
“I’ve missed you, Magnus,” she said.
“No, you haven’t.”