Work Text:
there is a cracking sound as he accidentally steps on the glass, Simon looks horrified. “Were those my glasses?”
“Aha”, clary winces, and picks up the broken spectacles from where they had fallen, “sorry. Wouldn’t have another pair handy?”
“They’re at home”. he grumbles, and clary wonders if he realizes that pouting makes him look cute, not ferocious.
She pockets the wreck, loops her arm into his, and smiles when he squeezes tight, grateful and trusting.
“Well then, let’s go get them.”
she begins to lead him down the street, shoulders bumping as they match pace, walking side by side.
