Confidence [The Mortal Instruments] {Rewritten}

I Raphael's P.O.V

"I still can't believe I let you drag me to this place," I complained to my best friend, though I'd never admit it out loud, before finishing my blood shot in one go. We were in a salsa club in Barcelona, open to mundanes but predominantly filled with Downworlders. "I should be in Idris, helping out Magnus and Alexander with their idea of legalizing the marriage between Downworlders and Shadowhunters."

"You are, Raphael," Lily told me with a sly grin. "You've been trying to get those stubborn Nephilim to understand that legalizing marriage would improve relationships between us. However, they don't seem to want to comprehend it. So, we'll relax and have some fun before we get to the point where we start ripping some shadow hunter's heads off." My face stayed neutral at her blunt reply, but I couldn't help feeling a slight upward tilt in the corners of my lips. "Now, get on the dance floor and find a girl or boy— I'm not picky— to get laid."

With that, she pushed me toward the throng of people, causing me to collide with some fellow club goers. I almost knocked a mundane girl off her feet, but my vampire reflexes allowed me to catch her in time.

"I'm sorry, señorita," I apologized.

"It's fine, don't worry. It happens all the time when the club is so full," she replied. When the mundane looked up and looked at me, I gasped— though I didn't need to breathe. Her eyes were stunning, the most beautiful green emeralds I had ever seen, shimmering with sincerity, and sparkling with curiosity. "I should thank you for saving me," she added, flashing me a bright, amused smile.

"My name is Raphael," I presented myself, finding it hard to tear my gaze away from the gorgeous girl standing in front of me.

"Like the archangel," she pointed out.

"No, you're the angel here," I replied without thinking. As soon as the words left my mouth, I wished the ground would swallow me whole. However, the pink blush that adorned her delicate cheeks under the dim club lights encouraged me to continue. "What's your name?" I asked, determined to keep the conversation flowing.

"I don't give my name to total strangers," she responded, regaining her composure. There was no trace of flirtation or a teasing smirk; she simply spoke honestly and maintained a gentle smile. "You could be a killer, waiting for me in the dark before eating me," she joked, seemingly oblivious to the wince that crossed my face.

"Then let's get to know each other," I suggested.

"First thing you need to know," she began, "I love to dance and sing, but I'll never do it with someone who isn't my partner."

"Your boyfriend?" I inquired with a subtle frown, attempting to control the surge of anger. Of course, she would have a boyfriend; she was the most breathtaking girl I had ever seen.

"No, my brother," she replied with a knowing look. "Let's sit down at the bar; we can talk more comfortably over there."

"Sure," I agreed, unable to tear my eyes away from hers. The magnetic pull of her gaze was irresistible, leaving me eager to learn more about the intriguing girl before me.

"So, Raphael," she began once we reached the bar and placed our orders. "Where are you from? Your accent isn't from here."

"I'm from New York. I'm here because my friend thought it was a good idea to come here and unwind a bit," I replied.

"A lot of stress?" she inquired.

"It comes with the job of working with idiots," I responded, taking a sip from my drink. "Sometimes it's like they..."

"...don't want to hear," she cut me off. "That they can only see hostility in you and not that you are trying to make things better."

"Exactly," I looked at her surprised, not just because she expressed what I was thinking with such conviction but also for the underlying anger in her words. "Who made you so angry?" I asked her.