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SketchesClary? Jace knocked on her door again, but there was no answer. Turning the handle he cautiously pushed it open, wondering if she was asleep she had barely recovered from that Ravener attack after all.
The room was empty, though the bed clothes were crumpled. He felt a stab of disappointment, wondering where she could possibly be. Izzy had taken her new pet mundane to the park and Alec was adding runes to a dagger in the weapons room. With everyone else distracted he had hoped for the chance to talk to Clary alone, talk to her normally without interruptions from Forsaken, mad witches and mundanes. He had thought he might take her up to the greenhouse; she seemed the sort of person who would be able to appreciate its beauty.
He was about to leave to search for her in the kitchen or library when something caught his eye. It was a sketchpad, lying on the bedside table with a graphite pencil resting on top. He closed the door behind him and went to sit on her bed, pickin
The DrawingClary was sitting in the living room of Lukes house with her legs drawn up close, doodling in her sketch pad. The pencil flowed easily over the page forming lines that formed shapes of things that would forever be in her memory. Her mother and Luke had gone to eat lunch and make sure that everything had been moved out of their old apartment. She and her mother had moved in with Luke after they had returned from Alicante.
She moved her thoughts back to her drawing. She had been working on a drawing of Alicante all day, and something about the picture just didnt seem right. She put her pencil back on the page and let her mind wander as she tried to finish the drawing. Her thoughts immediately went to Jace.
He was supposed to be coming over, but Clary hadnt heard from him yet. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 1:30. She sighed and turned her attention back to the drawing. She finally realized that she could do nothing more to the Alicante picture and flipped t
I Realize The Truth (Alec's Point of View)
I look around the room. Where is he? Usually, Magnus really stands out from the crowd, but today, I could not seem to spot him anywhere. Which really sucks. I need to talk to him, whether I want to or not.
Simon and Isabelle are talking. I'm not really paying attention but a few words wiggle their way into my head.
"Alec, pay attention. Or at least tell us what you're looking for," Isabelle tells me.
"Not what. Who. Magnus. I wanted to ask him if he'd be my partner in the battle," I answer her, although I'm not quite all there. "But I have no idea where he is. Have you seen him?" I direct my question to Simon. He replies that he hasn't and I continue my search.
Isabelle says something about how this is romantic which it is not. Well, maybe just a bit. Then she s
Unsure Smile“Magnus?” I said softly as I stepped into his dark apartment.
I’d stormed out earlier, after another fight about Camille, and well…everything she brought up. The move had been quickly regretted though, but I had stayed away to think. I had always been better at thinking things through when I put a little distance between myself and them. Isabelle always said it was a bad thing, that I put to much distance between myself and things I had a problem with and that’s why I was a failure at anything social, but it was the only way I could think.
I hung my jacket on the hook next to the door and slid my shoes off, wondering vaguely if maybe Magnus had gone out. I hoped he hadn’t. Going out probably meant he was in some bar or club that had the potential to be anywhere in the world and I could possibly go several days without seeing him again. And I definitely didn’t want that. I hated spending time away from him and , sadly, that seemed to be t
"all i know is you held the door,
you'll be mine and i'll be yours,
all i know since yesterday,
is everything has changed."
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
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