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“Nothing prepared me for the pleasure of being yours.”
Turning Page – Sleeping At Last
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Isabelle’s fingers ghosted across Clary’s arm as she slept. She traced the pattern of her runes and danced in and out of the curls which fell across her back. The smaller girl hummed in her sleep and snuggled into her pillow as Isabelle watched; transfixed.
Shadowhunters were trained from birth to honour their angel blood – to make sure everyone knew that they were Raziel’s children. A Downworlder should be able to see it in the way they walked, the way they held themselves and through their fiery gaze. Shadowhunters were never to rely on their runes to identify their angel blood – they must do it through their whole being.
Therefore, it amazed Isabelle more than anything, that Clary – who had lived as a mundane and had never been trained to hold herself in such a way – was the most obviously angelic creature Isabelle had ever had the pleasure of seeing.
She practically glowed inside and out and when she laughed – Oh, Isabelle felt blinded by it. Clary’s shock of beauty made Isabelle ache with longing to live alongside her heavenly presence.
But her beauty wasn’t the only telling sign. For only an angel could live with such fire inside them - a gorgeous swelling of flames which touched people’s hearts and never apologised for fighting for what she wanted.
When Clary had first kissed her – when she had dragged Isabelle by the waist into a breathless, desperate kiss – Isabelle’s life had exploded into light as only the kiss of an angel could; painting her world with vibrant colours that Isabelle hadn’t known existed.
She lay there now, her vision filled with Clary’s red curls, pale skin and dark runes – and Isabelle felt her throat tighten with emotion she couldn’t bear to voice. Instead, she dragged her lips down Clary’s freckle-dusted shoulder, to kiss at the nape of her neck and listen to way Clary hummed sleepily.
“Good morning,” Isabelle breathed, wrapping her arm around her girlfriend to bring them closer. Clad in small shorts and tees (due to the unbearable heat of a Manhattan summer but still early enough in their relationship that sleeping naked wasn’t quite an option), their legs tangled and Isabelle felt heat coiling low within her already.
She moved to scrape her teeth along the tendon between Clary’s neck and shoulder and she sighed happily at the catch of Clary’s breath as she asked, “How long until Alec comes knocking – demanding we get up for training?”
“Not long enough,” Isabelle said remorsefully, kissing up her neck, to her chin. Then, to where Clary has craned her neck towards Isabelle, her lips. Isabelle sunk into it and Clary rolled towards her, lying flat on her back so that Isabelle could crawl on-top of her.
If Clary was surprised by the heat behind Isabelle’s kisses, she didn’t say anything. Rather, she chose to rake her fingers through Isabelle’s hair, drawing her closer as their tongues met and they breathed into one another.
But before they could venture further, there was a sharp knocking on Isabelle’s door as Alec reminded them that training was in five minutes. Isabelle groaned and buried her face in Clary’s neck, kissing it softly.
“We should go before he decides to bust in here,” Clary told her softly, speaking from experience.
Isabelle nodded, she still ached with want but, with great reluctance, she untangled herself from her girlfriend, and they got ready for training.
----
The issue wasn’t that Clary was so incandescent or that Isabelle felt worse about herself as a consequence. Isabelle, for the whole of her life, had been partaking of things that were never meant to be hers (at least by her parent’s eyes), so being with Clary wasn’t an issue in that regard because Isabelle, with selfish glee, would adore Clary as long as Clary wanted her.
The issue was that she didn’t know how long that would be.
Isabelle knew with her entire being that she would never tire of Clary. She was magnetized to her and whilst everything was still so new, Isabelle knew this was it. There was no one else. Clary had set a heavenly fire within Isabelle, and no mere mortal would ever be able to put it out.
But Isabelle was far too aware that just because this was it for her, it didn’t mean Clary felt the same. For Isabelle, the only variable which had changed recently in her life was Clary’s appearance, there was nothing else to interrupt her conclusions. However, for Clary, her life had completely turned upside down. She’d been thrown into a whole new world and had only recently gotten her mother back.
There was a whole array of variables which translated in Clary wanting to be with Isabelle. A want that didn’t necessarily equal everything it meant to Isabelle – just that Clary needed someone to love her.
Perhaps Isabelle should’ve been giving Clary more credit. Clary wasn’t some damsel in distress that needed love and comfort to feel happy. But Isabelle knew that everyone was susceptible to feeling lonely, to wanting to be loved – and when she had Isabelle staring at her like she was the sun… Well, why wouldn’t she succumb to that weakness?
So, that was the issue.
Isabelle was pretty much a hundred percent sure that she loved Clarissa Fairchild – as ridiculous as that seemed so early on. But that’s how it was right? When you stumble across a soulmate, you’re just meant to know.
And this feeling that was brewing deep within Isabelle’s bones – that warmth, that ache, that magnetism – well, what else was it, but love?
----
Clary had a sheen of sweat across her skin, her eyes were alight as she leapt to her feet – not being put off by Isabelle knocking her to the ground.
She lunged towards her, dodging under Isabelle’s staff and knocking it from her hands. But Isabelle used Clary’s momentum to swing her around and up against the training-room wall. Her back thudded against it, and Clary let out a small gasp.
For a second, Isabelle’s grip loosened – scared she’d hurt her – but she realised her mistake the moment she saw the mischievous twinkle in Clary’s eyes. It was her turn to be thrown up against a wall, a weapon being held up against her neck.
Clary grinned at her, victorious and Isabelle laughed. “Well done, you finally got me.”
Still looking smug, she shrugged. “I had an advantage.”
Isabelle, reveling in the privilege of being so close to her girlfriend, agreed, “That you do, querida.”
Alec coughed rudely, from where he’d been observing them and Isabelle and Clary sent him identical withering looks.
“Stop making-out,” he told them, “As your big brother, I do not need to see that.”
“If you think that’s making-out, I might need to ask Magnus what he’s been doing with you on all those late nights out,” Clary teased.
Alec grumbled but it shut him up.
Looking satisfied, Clary turned back to Isabelle. Warm flooded her system and by the Angel did she want to say it. I love you Clary Fairchild.
Instead, she smiled – somewhat half-heartedly – and said, “We should get back to training.”
----
“You should tell her, you know,” Alec said to her about a week later. He was sitting on the edge of her bed as she twiddled her thumbs. Clary was out with Simon for the night so the two siblings had decided to catch-up. It felt incomplete without Jace, but that was absence in their life which had become an unhappy constant.
Isabelle didn’t have to ask him what he meant. “Is that a projection for your situation with Magnus?” she asked, aiming for a teasing tone but it tasted bitter on her mouth and the joke fell short.
“Magnus and I have an understanding, we don’t need to say anything yet. But you and Clary are different,” Alec said, with wisdom he shouldn’t have fresh into the dating world, “I know Magnus feels the same way I do. But you don’t think Clary loves you back.”
She shifted uncomfortably. It had been easy talking to Alec about her relationships before. He’d known more than he needed to about Meliorn and originally Clary too. But now that she was holding back with Clary, she couldn’t seem to open up anymore. It was like she’d built a dam around her heart and no one was getting it. It was suffocating.
“Izzy,” he said, grasping her shoulder and rubbing it comfortingly. “She loves you too. I know you don’t believe it so that’s why you have to tell her. It’s making you miserable holding it back – it’s so unlike you to hide how you feel when it comes to love. And she’s starting to notice that something’s up.”
“And what if you’re wrong?” Isabelle asked him sharply, “What if she doesn’t… feel the same?”
A sad smile tugged at his lips as he said, “Then at least you know and you can move forward – rather than being in this sad place you’re in right now.”
Isabelle sighed. He was right. As if knowing what was required, he shuffled closer to her and wrapped his arms around her, tugging her into a warm hug. He kissed her forehead gently and assured her, “But I’m not wrong.”
----
Clary got back home late that night and whilst Isabelle had tried to stay awake for her, a long day of training hit her hard. When she awoke in the morning, she opened her eyes to Clary’s sleeping face.
Clary hadn’t spent the night in her room since the week previous, so Isabelle was warmed at the sight of her – peaceful and eternally beautiful.
As emotion overwhelmed her once again, Isabelle made sure that Clary was sleeping before she whispered – “I love you.”
Clary shifted in her sleep and Isabelle froze; she waited on baited breath to see if Clary had heard her but the redhead continued to dream.
Isabelle allowed herself to relax and - seeing that she still had over an hour until training – fell back asleep.
----
Once they were done with training that day, and saw that there were no imminent demon attacks to deal with, Alec let them off for some free time. Thrilled, Clary insisted that they go on a proper ‘mundane’ date – and who was Isabelle to deny such eagerness?
They were strolling through central park with Clary’s hand in hers. The sun was streaking through the leaves as they licked their ice-cream. Eventually, Clary found, what she deemed to be, a suitable rock and they climbed up to it and sprawled along it – the sunlight beaming down on them.
“Are you sure you’re not going to burn, amada?” Isabelle asked before finishing off her ice-cream.
Clary rolled her eyes, having only made it halfway down her ice-cream cone. “I don’t burn. I just get more freckles.” She glanced over at Isabelle and her eyes zero-d in on her lips. A smirk tugged on her lips. “You have a bit of ice-cream leftover, babe.”
Isabelle cocked her head to side, “Oh? Is that so?”
“Mhmm,” Clary answered, already crawling towards her. “I can sort that out for you, if you want?”
Her lips twitched with amusement. “Well, if you insist.”
Clary’s mouth was cold against hers, the ice-cream still fresh on her tongue as it swept along Isabelle’s lower lip. The kiss was over too quickly, Clary pulling away to stare into Isabelle’s eyes.
“All good?” Isabelle asked, her voice husky.
Clary nodded, “Amazing, actually.”
And there it was again – Isabelle’s whole being was being overwhelmed with the urge to blurt it out – to finally say it. She parted her mouth, the words just on the tip of her tongue, and Clary was watching her intensely.
“It’s getting late,” she said eventually, dropping her gaze from Clary, “We should go back to the Inst-“
“Isabelle,” Clary interrupted firmly, and she jumped at the use of her full name. Clary never used her full-name (unless it was when they were in the throes of passion). “What were you going to say?”
Isabelle opened and closed her mouth. “I… I don’t know what you mean.”
“Please, Izzy,” she pleaded. “I know you weren’t going to ask to go home.”
Perhaps it was the way Clary’s voice was shaking just that small amount, maybe it was the way the setting sun was hitting the back of her hair, making her look like a Renaissance painting. But regardless of what it was that made her do it – she did.
“I… I love you.”
A grin so bright, it put the sun to shame broke out across Clary’s face, “Why didn’t you just say that then?”
“Because I’m scared that you don’t love me back,” Isabelle admitted.
Clary leaned forward, cupping Isabelle’s face between her hands. “Isabelle Lightwood, I love you more than there are stars in the sky.”
Emotion hit her like a truck – a fresh rush of emotions which accumulated into what she could only describe as euphoria. And suddenly, there was too much space between them and she doesn’t know who moved in first, but then they were kissing.
Clary’s grip on her face stayed firm, as if she was afraid Isabelle would slip away. To soothe these fears, she wrapped her arms around Clary’s waist, hauling her closer as she sighed into her mouth.
When they broke the kiss, they rested their foreheads against one another. “How could I not love you?” Clary asked her softly, “You are the most celestial being I’ve ever met. All the stars in the galaxy, I’m sure, are jealous of you.”
“And you, mi amor bello, are far more angelic than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“I love you,” Clary repeated, as if she was enjoying the taste of it on her mouth.
Isabelle kissed her again, slowly and with emotion, and when their lips parted she murmured, “I love you too.”