A World Reversed

Part 4

Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments. I don't own anyone. This setting was based on an idea from a short film on youtube, but the plot is original. Cassandra Claire owns the characters.

"Ow! Yes, oh please push on it more," I growled, looking down at the man I swore I loathed. He was grinning devilishly, making my hand twitch towards slapping him. He took hold of my ankle again and laughed, swiping at the blood and then throwing it back down causing my heel hit the floor harshly.

"I think you'll live," he sighed. I pouted playfully. His entire aura just urged me to flirt. I hated it, but I also couldn't stop it. And Jace seemed to be the same way.

"Your mother clearly doesn't think so," I pointed out, angling my face towards him.

"Maryse," he emphasized the word as he sat beside me on the couch. The living room was cold and closed in, just like every other room in this house. We were alone in a dark area with one window overlooking their backyard, which held a garden that I could just barely make out in the low light. Despite how mysterious this house was, it fitted this family. "She just wants somebody to stay for dinner since Isabelle and Alec are out."

"They won't be for long." Jace looked at me in question as he leaned back on the couch. I tucked my legs under my body and faced him, my back pressing against the armrest. "If my dad finds them, they'll be running home and tomorrow my father will show up at your doorstep. However, if my father finds them...well I'd rather not imagine what he would do."

Jace whistled. "You must feel quite loved."

I frowned. He said few things, but most of what he said made sense to me, until now. I could hear the condescending tone in his voice. My body stiffened. "What do you mean by that?"

He shrugged and moved his eyes from mine to the window, speaking coldly and distantly. "It sounds like your dads take heterophobia to a new level. Hetero-hate in my book," his bright eyes met mine. They were so fiercely golden like a fire. But this fire wasn't started from a simple match. It burned too deep. This fire built slowly over time until one day, gas hit the flames and everything exploded. "Being a jig, no matter how secret you are about it, doesn't feel great with dads like them."

"For the last time, I'm-,"

He glared at me now, something I had seen him do to others, but not me. It felt like a slap to the face. "You don't have to pretend around me, Clary. I know what you've been through. If you won't admit it to the world, then at least just to me."

"I don-,"

"Tell me you don't find me attractive," he deadpanned, waiting for my response because he knew I couldn't lie. Not to him, not to something so obvious. He waited for what felt like minutes, cradling my foot and pulling the answer out of my eyes. I caved.

"I...can't." I stuttered. He rolled his eyes and lost his aggressive demeanor. I relaxed a bit.

"You don't have to whine about it – the real straights never do – but every time they tell a joke or rag on the straight neighbors, a little bit of your heart is shaven off, and your tolerance." Jace talked like he was an old man remembering the 'good ole days.' It scared me. I knew what he was talking about. It was such an unconscious feeling that I assumed was just annoyance. But he had to have been wrong because Jonathon felt it, too. We'd always complain about our dads together. He agreed with me on those feelings. I blushed when I felt golden eyes studying me. He seemed slightly satisfied yet still grim. "I take it they never heard about your boyfriend."

"How did you know it was in the past?" I asked.

"I have my sources. Few people can resist a pretty face. You should remember that, babe," he said, tilting his head to the side. I didn't know why, but it always felt like he was studying me. Instantly, I hated the blush that came to my cheeks. He saw it too and chuckled.