I wonder what came to Isabelle's head to consider going out on a week day. We ended up watching a sappy romantic movie. I insisted that we watch LOL. That movie wasn't really that good, but it reminded me of my closeness to my mother and how wonderful love was. Plus, I liked the OST of the movie, it was good.
Jonathan who was still wearing the onesie, made milkshakes, at first, I was scared to agree on his offer, because if Isabelle couldn't make anything edible, what made him better? Plus, it was already cold, so why still make cold beverages? But he convinced me to let him do it since he did what I wanted him to do today. I knew it wasn't fair for me, because he swore he would do anything if he lost the bet. His charm made it hard to resist and he knew it.
We were seated on the couch with a safe distance. All the lights in the apartment were closed except from the nightlight in the kitchen. I looked at him; he was sipping on his vanilla oreo milkshake. I observed his face if there was a look that said the beverage was bad.
"It's good, I make it all the time," he said, his eyes still glued on the screen.
Bravely, I took a sip. It did taste like a normal milkshake, it was actually good, but there was a tinge of something. It had a bitter aftertaste. Now, I was a hundred percent sure he placed something in the drink. Jonathan Lightwood wouldn't drink a plain old boring milkshake, there had to be something in it to make it more exciting.
"You spiked this, didn't you? What did you put in the drink?" I asked suspiciously.
He looked at away from the screen and faced me. He had a smile playing on his lips. "It's just a little vodka, stop overreacting."
Apparently even after five hundred years, I still had a low tolerance in alcohol. It wouldn't take much to make me lose myself. It was another reason why I didn't want to go to the club with my friends. It also made me talkative and blunt. I didn't want to do or say something I'd regret in the morning.
"Not enough to make you drunk, it's just one glass of milkshake." It was a tall and wide glass.
"I'm not good with alcohol and I don't trust you."
He laughed, "Stop worrying, will you? Let yourself off the leash even just for tonight. I won't take advantage of you, you're not my type." He freaking looked at my chest.
He was right, I was always worrying, but it was because of him. Why couldn't he just find a girl already and live happily so I'd be at peace for the next years or decades? If things just went into plan, then I could relax and just watch things fall into place.
I was tomato red. "I know, you prefer dumb girls with big fake boobies," I said, irritated.
He touched his own chest and moved his hands up and down, as if he was making his own chest bounce. "Yours are not so bad. They're not as flat as you think."
Well this conversation was getting awkward. "Ugh, just shut up, will you? I don't want to talk about my lady parts with you."
The little amount of vodka he placed on my drink, or so he said, went a long way. My drink was almost gone, his was nowhere to be seen, but he had a flask in his hand. I didn't see him with that before. We were silent as the movie played. It was almost done. It was at the last part where the guy was dedicating a song to the girl.
Much to my dismay, I was feeling tipsy and kind of bubbly. I was now curled up in the couch, my feet slightly touched Jace's lap, or Jonathan's, whatever.
"I really like guys who can sing and play musical instruments. They look so damn hot while singing and playing the guitar," I blurted.
"Then you must really like me," he said arrogantly. I wasn't looking at him, but I know that he had smug smile. That jerk, I knew him more than I knew myself, after spending my days following him and watching his every move.
"Stupid, I don't like you." I love you, I thought.
My life, my whole existence revolved around one person. It wasn't a choice; you could never choose the person you love. They just come to your life and you know they'd change you forever. You only make choices when you were already with them, but loving them was never a choice. It was something that you couldn't control. You just couldn't make yourself stop loving someone even if you wished to.
I could not fall out of love even if I wanted to. I couldn't make myself love another person because I belonged to Jace. The witch was very clever to make this curse we were in. She knew I'd rather die than be away from him. She knew that it was torture to watch the only man I loved live without me, without even knowing I existed. And I had to watch Jace die not only once, not only twice, but many times.
If Aline never came back to Jace's life, could we have lived a happy life? How many children could we have had? Would we have a dog? Could we have bought the farmhouse? Those questions had always bugged me since the death of the first Jace.
The movie that starred Miley Cyrus had ended a few minutes ago. Clary was drunk, her lids were half-closed and she kept mumbling the name 'Jace' every once in a while. Who was that guy? Was he an ex or her boyfriend?
So this was why she was worrying about how much vodka I put in her drink. She didn't handle alcohol well; she was saying the truth earlier. Actually, it was half vodka and half milkshake. From the look on her face when she drank it, I knew she liked it, but she was scared she'd get drunk. It wasn't my intention to get her wasted, I would never take advantage of any woman. I didn't even know she'd end up like this.
Clary Fray was different from all the other girls I met. She didn't like my guts and the things I did. I treated her badly, but she still talked to me and she didn't avoid me. She even offered me to stay in their apartment. All those times I dragged her to go with me, she protested and complained, but she didn't leave except earlier when I told everyone that she was my girlfriend. I realized that it was too much.
She was confusing me and it made me want to know her more. One moment, she acted like she wanted me to be around her, and then the next she was almost disgusted with being around me. Which of that one was real? Was she pretending to like me or hate me?
Another thing that drew me to her was the familiarity of her face and her voice. Maybe it was because of her that my nightmares returned. It was like I had seen her and heard her voice before. The girl in my dreams, the one that haunted me when I was fifteen and just recently, she looked like her. The only features of the girl in my dreams that I could remember were her green eyes and flaming red hair. The dreams had different beginnings, they were all bright and wonderful, but they ended just the same, as a nightmare. I couldn't do anything as the girl burned into ashes. I could even smell the burning flesh and hair and it made my stomach turn every time.
There was something in me that made me want to protect Clary. When I look at her forest green eyes, I was reminded of the hopeless girl who was screaming for help, but no one came for her. I didn't save her because I was the one who set the tree house where she was on fire.
My parents also died because of me. We were running away from a woman who wanted to get me, claiming that I was hers. I was very young when it happened, but I could remember it perfectly. You never forget it when you saw your parents die in front of you. Until now I didn't know what that woman wanted from me, but maybe if I came with her, my parents were still alive.
I am a murderer.
I shook away all my dark thoughts and focused on the girl with the small frame, red hair and gentle features. It was almost one in the morning and I think Clary would be thankful if I brought her to her room so she wouldn't have stiff neck when she woke up later.
I scooped her to my arms from the couch and she snuggled her face to my chest. She looked so fragile in my arms, and as I held her closer to me as I felt the jolt in my heart again. It happened when my skin came in contact with her. Did she feel it too?
"Jace, I want to go back," she said on my chest. "Bring me back, please?"
"Bring you back where?" I asked.
She was awake and she faced me. She answered, "In time."
"You can't go back in time, Clary. It's not possible. And who's Jace?"
"Who's Clary?" she asked back.
Was she so drunk hat she couldn't remember her own name?
"I'll bring you to bed," I said as we walked toward her bedroom.
"I'm not Jace, I'm not your ex."
When we got into her bedroom, I gently placed her on the bed. She was watching me with wide eyes. They looked so green even through the dim light.
"You're Jace, stupid. No, you're a penguin, but you're also my Jace," she mumbled.
Great, now she was hallucinating "You're drunk, Clary."
"Who is Clary?" she asked again.
"You're Clary, stupid," I answered, imitating her tone.
She giggled. "You're so cute, penguin, especially when you danced."
"Go to sleep and don't have a hangover."
"Okay, good night, Jace."
"Good night, Clary."
"When I wake up tomorrow, will you tell me who Clary is?"
I woke up with two skinny arms lazily draped around my waist. It had been like this since she started sleeping in my room. She loved to cuddle me and my pillows. It didn't freak me out because she was like a sister to me, she treated me as one. I didn't wake up when Isabelle came to my room. Wait, how did I even end up in my room? The last thing I could remember was falling asleep on the couch while the movie was still playing and Jonathan was drinking from the flask. Could he have brought me here?
My stomach grumbled. I looked at the time and it was almost eleven, I had classes at twelve. I still have a lot of time to get ready. I went to my bathroom first to shower before going to the kitchen to Jonathan eating Chinese takeout and sipping some coffee. He was dressed for school in a grey shirt, a black hoodie, jeans and sneakers.
"How are you feeling? Hangover?" he asked while chewing.
"Nah, I'm fine," I answered while getting some orange juice from the fridge.
He offered me food and I was more than happy to accept it. I was starving since I only had a sandwich last night.
Jonathan was confusing me. One moment he was rude to me then the next, he was acting like he cared.
"Did I say something weird last night?" I asked anxiously.
"Nothing much," he said coolly.
"What did I say?"
He shrugged and smiled. "That I was a cute penguin."
I sighed in relief. That was good. I didn't say anything to freak him out or anything from the past.