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Clary’s hand rests on the tattoo a moment longer before she pulls her arm back suddenly.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I-- I didn’t even ask!”
“It’s fine, really,” Jace insists. She’s surprised by the smile on his face - a moment ago he was running away from her and now he’s totally fine with her touching him with no warning? None of this makes any sense… least of all her feelings in this moment. He’s a stranger in a leather jacket in a dark alley, but she isn’t afraid. In fact, she feels… safe.
“Where do I know you from?” She asks, hoping that might explain things.
Jace hesitates. “I’m not sure,” he starts, trailing off. He’s lying but she can’t remember enough to call him out for it. “Maybe we met at a club somewhere,” he suggests finally, a small, knowing smile on his face, like he just shared some inside joke she should get but doesn’t.
“Maybe…” she considers. Jace looks like he’s about to walk away but she doesn’t want him to leave, not yet, so she decides to take a chance. “Do you want to come back inside with me, or was my art that bad it scared you away?”
Jace laughs, and Clary relishes hearing the sound, watching the way his smile widens and changes his entire face.
“I really should go,” he starts, and her face falls. “...but I guess it can’t hurt to stay a little while longer. Alec’s going to kill me either way, might as well make it worth it.”
“Alec?” Clary asks, the name sounding familiar on her tongue. Jace. Alec. And another name… something feminine and soft, like Isa--
“Nevermind,” Jace dismisses quickly, and the names fade as quickly as they came to mind. “Come on, before I change my mind.”
Clary leads the way back inside, Jace in tow, and heads back towards her own artwork. Jace is looking at the painting in front of them but she’s looking at him , the way his features grow troubled as his eyes fall on the canvas.
“What is it?” he asks. The paining is greens and teals, mostly, with flecks of white throughout, with two dark shadows in the center, and two more in the background.
“It’s a forest, but it isn’t about the trees for me. It’s more of a feeling. It should be serene, but there’s an urgency there… a passion, but also a lingering fear?”
Jace’s eyes never leave her own as she speaks. “Yeah. I can see that,” he agrees. “It reminds me of a forest I went to once. A secret one that’s supposed to hold ancient magic.” Jace looks at her expectantly at that last part and Clary can tell he’s waiting for her reaction… but why?
“Yes! Magic, and a choice. It always reminds me of a choice, for some reason.” Clary continues, but Jace is already moving on to the one on their right. The main colors are blues and yellows and white, with some orange and darker reds and browns and greens and yellows throughout.
“What about this one?” Jace, who still has a strange look on his face after the first painting, turns his inquisitive gaze back to her.
“Joy. So much joy, and love, and a sense of something coming together. But also a sadness, around the edges, like something else is going on outside the focus, separate from the joy. It’s not nearly as prominent, in fact,” Clary says, frowning a bit. “Everyone feels the joy, but I’m the only one to associate this piece with anything negative. Maybe I’m just going crazy,” she laughs, attempting to shrug it off.
“You’re not crazy,” Jace says immediately. She’s surprised to see something sad and longing behind his expression. “I feel it too.” He gives her another long, considering look before speaking again. His words are hesitant, like he isn’t sure he should be saying what comes next. “You said love, and coming together… like a wedding, maybe?”
Clary looks again, and despite not seeing anything in the colors and shapes that look specifically like a wedding she can almost imagine it. The flowers of an archway, the figures of two people - two men - in the middle. It’s hazy, like a faded dream, but it’s there.
Without realizing she’s even doing it Clary brings a hand up to her arm, rubbing at a spot on her inner forearm.
“Yes… how did you-?”
But Jace is already moving to the next one. Any hesitation from before is gone now and he moves with a singular focus.
“And this?” He asks, though it feels more urgent now, almost like a demand.
Clary doesn’t hesitate to follow his lead. “Fear. Speed. Desperation… power.” She sees the angry reds and oranges and browns of the canvas and remembers the strange mindset she was in while paining this one in particular.
Jace looks her in the eyes - she holds his gaze though there’s a sudden intensity there that startles her.
“Edom.” He says the single word, still not breaking eye contact, focused on her and no longer paying any attention to the canvas.
The word means nothing to her, sounding foreign in her ears, and then-
“Magnus,” she gasps. “And Lilith.” Her eyes are wide with the sudden memory, turning quickly to look from Jace to the painting again. “And blood,” Clary licks at her lips, head snapping back to look at Jace again. “Who are you?” she demands. And then, quieter and with much more fear than anger, “...who am I? ”
“You already know those answers,” Jace says, motioning to the rest of her exhibit. She turns to it now with names and faces starting to surface attached to the emotions behind her work. Work which might not be quite as abstract as she once thought.
“Do I?” Clary questions, her tone suddenly accusatory. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“I’m telling you more than I should,” Jace admits. “You have all the answers inside of you, Clary. You just have to remember them.” He places his hands on her shoulders then, staring at her intently. “Please.”
It comes in trickles, in flashes. Memories pushing through, solid images where just feelings and colors were before. The red sands and heat of Edom. The wonders of a Seelie forest. A Shadowhunter wedding.
Jace.
Jace and Alec and Izzy and Magnus and Simon and-
She doesn't remember it all but she remembers enough. Angels and demons and warlocks, vampires and werewolves. She looks at her art and sees herself and Jace embracing in the Seelie forest. She sees Simon and the others in Edom. Alec and Magnus at the wedding.
It’s too much.
“Jace…” she says, almost breathless. Her head feels so light that she’s positive she must be floating. “I… how could I ever forget you?”
Jace smirks, blinking away the few tears that threaten to give away the emotions he hides behind a cocky grin. “I have no idea. I like to think I’m pretty damn memorable, personally.”
He laughs, and Clary laughs with him, moving forward to wrap her arms around his middle. He returns the motion, pulling her close and holding on a bit too tight to be property comfortable. She doesn’t say anything, instead allowing herself to melt into his touch, resting her head on his chest and closing her eyes against that dizzying rush she still feels.
Clary has no idea what she’s going to do from here but there’s one thing she doesn’t have a single doubt about: whatever may come her way, she’s not going to have to face it alone. Not anymore.