Chapter Text
It was past midnight and Lucie Herondale thought it was time to stop writing for today, so she closed her blank book given to her on her eighth birthday by James. She tried to arrange her brown hair that cascaded over her nightgown so it wouldn't get tangled, but in front of him she preferred to have it free, she carefully got into her bed while Jesse was leaning against the window.
"I should include Cordelia's middle name more often, it sounds so heroic and describe her dark red hair more too, she's the image of perfection, she's like a Boadicea reincarnated in 1903" Lucie said enthusiastically.
He had an opinion about Lucie´s hair and that she was brave too, but he didn't know if he should take those liberties, after all she had said that she was just a “devoted friend”, all those feelings that he had harbored the last couple of months had to stay safe, buried deep within his soul like the bodies of the Highgate Cemetery.
"What is your middle name?" he blurted out suddenly unable to contain himself.
"Ella" she said without hesitation. "It is just one of them, but it is all you will have tonight because you are broke and my thoughts are worth more than a penny" she added with a laugh.
Lucie Ella Herondale, the name echoed in his mind like piano notes, the name of a heroine.
"And what's yours?" She asked curiously, leaning a little and stretching her arms across the sheets.
"Rupert, Jesse Rupert Blackthorn" he said as lowered his gaze with his arms crossed.
"Like your father..."
"My mother thought it was a good way to honor his name, or just remember him since she says I look a lot like him" but he knew that it only meant condemnation, torture to hear his mother rave and miss the man she talked so much about, but Jesse was not his father, he had autonomy and he just wanted that she recognizes him for what he really was and not for what he looked like.
"So you look like him, but... are you like him?" Lucie knew that Jesse's angular features were from Lightwood blood, but the green eyes and black hair must have come from the Blackthorn´s and curiously they were Sir Jethro's features, but she might just find them interesting and inspirational for her novel.
Was he like his father? Did they share more than resemblance?
"My mother says that I look too much, there is a painting of him in The Blackthorn Manor, I don't know if you will ever see it" but Jesse knew that Tatiana would not allow a single soul to enter that house, least of all a Herondale. Maybe if he resurrected and formed a life with Lucie... no, no, no, he should push that thought away.
Suddenly Lucie let out a yawn.
"It's already a bit late, I should retire and let you rest," he said, considering that the girl had spent too many nights staying up talking to him, it would not be good for her health, maybe he should stop visiting her, maybe she only received it as a courtesy, because she was the only one could talk to him, of course, apart from Grace and his mother.
The moon illuminated Lucie's room and her in her bed, with her long loose hair and barely open blue eyes, had made her look like Stardust, he thought.
"No, sorry, just..." hesitating she continue "please stay a while longer, you can sit on the edge of the bed in case you're tired…" when she finished saying that her cheeks blushed, but she hid her face with the white sheets.
Had Lucie been embarrassed? Maybe it was just his imagination.
"No, no, no, it would not be right, after all you should reserve those actions for someone else" The idea of being closer to Lucie terrified him, but the part of him that was only a 17-year-old boy was worse, If Lucie ever had a husband other than him, he couldn't take that privilege away from that man, but he wanted to be the first “and the only one”, the voice in his mind said.
"It´s okay, you are also a ghost with sense of property, I trust you" she said smiling.
And those words were pure magic, that girl who could command him whenever she wanted was giving him her complete trust and he felt grateful, blessed. This was a great joke that the Angel was playing on him.
Doubtful he carefully sat on the corner of the bed, careful not to touch anything, but she didn't seem to regret it.
"If Jessamine saw me right now she would call your father and he would find a way to kill me, again," he whispered.
After a seconds Lucie started snoring a little, she's so adorable, Jesse thought. That indicated that it was time to retire, so he slowly stood up, took one last look at her and when he turned around he saw Lucie's desk "The beautiful Cordelia" was closed, containing his enormous curiosity, he trusted that one day Luce would let him read it when trust between them grew.
A golden ray illuminated by the moon came out of the notebook and Jesse could see that Lucie had put a golden comb as a separator, a treasure indeed but not as much as the girl who was lying asleep; it was up to writers to take what was within their grasp and make the most of it no matter how "valuable" it was. Perhaps Lucie would one day keep the memory of him after fading as something else of no value in her life or maybe she would treasure him just like her writings, that was his last thought before returning to the dark night, hoping to have the strength to show up the next night and see her again.
"Please" he said looking at the moon.
Even if Lucie had let him read The Beautiful Cordelia's stories, he couldn't have prepared himself for the fact that knowing its contents would change his life forever.