I disappeared for a few months, but I'm writing again...I can do that, right?

Shadowhunter Universe/ a little AU

Clary/Jace

Sometime generally around City of Ashes

Oneshot

Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments. FML.

A. Always

He was always watching her.

She could always tell when he was, because the skin on the back of her neck would prickle and burn, and her heartbeat would quicken in the most disconcerting way, because she wasn't supposed to have that reaction, dammit.

But when he wasn't watching her, when there was another girl he was looking at, she would flush hot with jealousy, and she wanted to drag him away and hide him in his room with her, so that he would never watch anybody else but her.

She hated that he was always watching her, with awe in his face; there was nothing special about her.

But as she caught his gaze from across the Institute's library, she realized that she would always love the watchful gaze even more.

B. Bad

Feelings were bad. His father had raised him to repress them, claiming they were a weakness, a weapon that could be used against him.

But the feelings he felt for his sister, were even worse.

Because even his other sister, the one he felt brotherly feelings towards, told him that if he didn't get over her, it would be bad for everybody.

Except he didn't care how bad it was when he had her pressed against the wall, arms holding her still to keep her from leaving him like he knew she would, kissing her like he'd never kissed anybody before...because it didn't feel bad.

C. Cold

She knew it was ridiculous, but without him near her, she felt cold.

When his hand would "accidentally" brush against hers, a fire would burn through her veins, and heat would fill her body and flush her skin.

But as soon as he'd moved away, she felt like somebody had dumped ice water over her.

Which was dangerous. Because sometimes she'd get so cold at night, even when bundled up with three blankets, that she'd tip-toe to his bedroom, and climb into bed with him.

He'd sleepily asked what the hell she was doing, Luke was in the other room, they'd get caught...And she'd wrap her arms around him, whispering that she was cold.

And he let her stay, because with her in his bed, he was finally warm.

D. Death

His father was wrong; his greatest fear wasn't how he felt for her, it was losing her.

Nightmares plagued him every night, and every night it was a different scenario of her death.

As he watched her with the vampire, smiling and laughing, so full of life, he inwardly swore by the Oath to never let any harm come to her.

Because if she died, another death would follow close behind.

E. Envy

She couldn't help but feel jealous when she saw siblings together.

They bickered and touched and taunted; so like the two of them, except without the longing looks in between.

It was pointless to be envious of the way other families interacted, but sometimes she wished that they would act like that.

It would be harmless and painless to not be in love with her brother.

F. Fearless

A rune she'd created.

He studied the rune on his wrist, where she'd drawn it. Wondering what she'd been thinking about when she drew it.

It would take more than a fearless rune, he realized, staring at her, for her to admit her feelings to him. It was as if the Angel had carved a freaking stubbornness rune into her heart at birth.

Still, he often wondered what she would do if he drew the rune on her skin.

Fearlessness made anything possible, except for when it came to his fiery little sister.

G. Gift

She knew that if he thought she was in love with him, he would never give up.

He would never stop trying to find a way for them to be together.

So when she uttered those words to them, as she watched his heartbreak show in his eyes, she swallowed back the apologies and the "I love yous".

She would give him this gift, so hopefully one day he'd find happiness with someone else.

H. Hate

He wished he could hate her.

It would be so much easier if he did hate her.

Even when she spat those words at him, hurting him more than any broken bone or concussion he'd received, he knew that he would never be able to hate her.

So instead he hated himself.

I. Incest

That's what it was, she thought to herself, rinsing the shampoo out of her hair. What they'd been doing.

An incestuous relationship.

What's wrong with her?

J. Jello

He didn't like jello.

But as he watched her, cuddled up with her vampire boyfriend as he fed her red jello, he decided that he hated jello.

K. Kiss

His kisses tasted like fire and cherries, and they would always leaved her with bruised, swollen lips and her heart racing a mile per second.

She loved his kisses.

His kisses tasted like salt and peppermint, and they were always slow and soft. Comfortable.

She enjoyed his kisses.

But she enjoyed them even more when she pretended that he wasn't the one that she was in the embrace with.

L. Love

It was such a complicated emotion.

Painful and blinding.

He grew more reckless than usual in his hunts; basically throwing himself into the demons's blows, relishing the adrenaline and pain whenever he would be struck.

Love didn't make him stronger, he decided, watching her worried green eyes as she drew a healing rune over his dislocated shoulder and the open gash across his chest. It made him weak and foolish.

He couldn't find it in him to care though; if he could picture himself happy, it would be with her. Loving her.

Even if in reality, it made him miserable.

M. Mistake

A mistake.

That's what she'd spat hatefully at him after she'd woken up in bed with him.

This was a mistake. You're a mistake. I could never love you.

It had been a mistake to say that.

But she couldn't-wouldn't-take it back.

Even if she didn't mean it.

N. Name

He'd always been proud of his name.

Even when it was always changing, he would always state his name with confidence and pride.

Except for when he realized he shared the same name as the girl he loved.

Then he wished he could take it back, take it all back, and erase Jonathon Morgenstern from existence.

O. Over

The battle was over.

They had won.

As they celebrated, she watched as he took a pretty dark-haired girl up to his room, and she could feel her heart crack.

Apparently he had gotten over his own battle and had moved on.

P. Poison

He sometimes locked himself in his bathroom, and stared down at his hands in silent awe.

Wondering if he'd been cursed with a deadly touch, poisoning anything and anybody he got close to.

His little brother had died in the battle. A nine-year-old. He hadn't even been in the crossfire.

Hands trembling, he rubbed harshly at his face. He wasn't going to cry. He didn't cry.

It was like losing another falcon.

He stared at his reflection, scowling at himself. Hating what he saw.

Poisonous, he mouthed to himself.

His sister hated him. His brother was dead. His father was dead. His mother looked at him like he was a monster.

A tear was starting to form.

Baring his teeth in frustration, he swung his fist at the mirror and fell to the floor, letting broken shards of glass shatter over his curls.

Q. Question

He asked her a question, a couple of years after the war.

If she would marry him.

She said yes.

When she told the news to her mother, stepfather, and...him, she drowned out the sound of her mother sob with happiness, and the gruff congratulations.

She couldn't look away from the destroyed look in his eyes as he stared down at the diamond ring glittering on her finger.

His jaw clenched, and he turned around to walk briskly out of the room.

I'm sorry.

R. Regret

He regretted having ever met her, he decided as he watched her try on her wedding dress.

When she asked him how she looked, he'd responded with a quiet, beautiful.

Because she would always be beautiful, no matter how much he hated her right now.

He lit up a cigarette, ignoring th sign, and watched as she twirled around in front of the mirror.

Yep, he though, smoke curling out of his pursed lips. He regretted a lot of things, but never for loving her.

S. Silence

Whenever he would get angry or frustrated with her, he would go quiet.

This always made her gut clench in worry, because his silence was a deafening wave after wave of bitterness and disappointment.

He was silent a whole lot, ever since she'd announced her engagement.

She wished he would yell at her; she'd even gone as far as to slapping and kicking him, screaming in frustration for him to say something, anything, and to quit being a stoic asshole, because it was making her feel sick.

He'd just stood there silently, taking her beatings without a word.

When she'd finally given up, he'd picked her up and sat her on the counter, before telling her in a quiet, but hard voice, that he had absolutely nothing he wanted to say to her.

And then he'd left her in the kitchen with an ear-drum crushing silence.

T. Tame

He found himself at the Pandemonium club instead of at the tailor's; fuck the vampire and his fucking wedding. Fuck being the best man. He needed to get laid.

As he watched faceless girls dance and grind around him, he realized he'd grown to be tamer ever since he'd met her.

That would change, he decided, sliding an arm around a particular girl who'd been staring at him the whole time he'd been there, and leading her to a supply closet.

He had no reason to be tame, after all.

U. Ugly

She felt ugly.

Even in her wedding dress, instead of feeling like a princess, she just felt absolutely hideous.

Standing next to her fiance, she didn't feel pretty.

Her mother gushed over how "gorgeous" she was, and she wanted to throw up.

I'm not pretty, she thought to herself, purposefully smudging her eyeliner. I'm ugly.

She caught his eye as she began walking down the aisle, and knew that he agreed.

V. Violet

Violet was his date that he'd brought to the wedding.

It was also the flower that she'd chosen for her banquet.

Do you wanna come to the washroom with me? She whispered huskily in his ear, nipping at his lobe.

Violet. Violets. Gold rings and fucking cupid.

I would rather drag my balls across hot coals and broken glass, you tramp. He muttered back.

Damn violets. He was allergic to those ugly ass flowers.

W. Weddings

Her second dance was with him.

He spun her around the dance floor, his movements sure and confident. Nearly robotic.

She found herself enjoying her second dance better than the first.

His voice was a soft whisper as he leaned forward, mouth brushing against her ear in a way that made her shiver: Our wedding would have been so much more magical.

Then the song was over, and she found herself back in her husbands arms, wondering what marrying him would have been like.

X. X-Ray

He knew that he was obvious.

Hell, his mother knew how he felt, which was why she tried to keep her daughter away from him.

Before her, nobody could tell what he was feeling.

But now...His hands were clenched into fists in his pockets, watching them feed each other the cake. Now it was like everyone had x-ray vision when they looked at him.

And that was probably why his brother and his boyfriend pulled him out of the church to take him to their apartment.

Y. Yellow

When she woke up in bed with her husband the morning after their honeymoon, she found herself anticipating to be welcomed by yellow eyes.

And when she wasn't, she couldn't stop the disappointment from clouding her "good morning".

Brown eyes instead of golden.

She hated herself for how terrible that made her feel.

Z. Zero

He felt worthless, watching them together.

Throwing knives at the wall in the training rooms, he tightened his grip on one of the blades, slicing smoothly through his skin.

Without her, he didn't matter.

He was the zero to her ten.

Letting out a bitter laugh, he dropped the knife he was holding, and dropped to the floor and started doing push ups.

Screw that.

He'd be the best zero she knew.

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