
“I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.”
—Clary Fray & Jace Wayland (The Mortal Instruments)

“I think… I think I love you.”

You’re always in my head
You’re just what i wanted
I live in constant debt
Too feel you, invented…

Baby I have no story to be told But I’ve heard one of you And I’m gonna make your head burn Think of me in the depths of your despair Making a home down there It Reminds you of the home we shared…

As they left the garden, Jace paused, drew off his jacket, and laid it over Hodge’s slack, upturned face. Clary wanted to go to Jace, put a hand on his shoulder even, but something in the way he held himself told her not to. Even Alec didn’t go near him or offer a healing rune, despite the fact that Jace was limping as he walked down the hill.
They moved together down the zigzag path, weapons drawn and at the ready, the sky lit red by the burning Gard behind them. But they saw no demons. The stillness and eerie light made Clary’s head throb; she felt as if she were in a dream. Exhaustion gripped her like a vise. Just putting one foot in front of the other was like lifting a block of cement and slamming it down, over and over. She could hear Jace and Alec talking up ahead on the path, their voices faintly blurred despite their proximity.
~City of Glass