The Mortal Instruments: City of Past Ghosts (Book 1)

Chapter 25: Treachery

Chapter 25: Treachery

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Every time Clary thought she was done crying, another round of freshly baked tears came rolling down her cheeks.

At several moments in time of the half hour she had spent in her, she had felt like the world's most pathetic person as she sat on a spiral staircase that led to the second level of the garden slash greenhouse, her knees hugged to her chest.

She found it almost ridiculous that she crying so much over a boy she had met a week and half ago but she felt as if the pain went in deeper and longer than a week and a half. It pierced her in deep and it hooked itself deep in her, not letting go no matter how hard she tried to pull away.

And all they had ever done was kiss. No I love you's or anything official or exclusive yet it hurt, more than it should. Much much more.

The sound of a pitiful meow momentarily dried her tears as Clary looked up, surprised to see a pudgy looking Church meowing at her, it's fluffy Persian head cocked to a side.

It looked at her like it was confused, his lazy eyes slitted and narrowed slightly as if it were scrutinizing her.

"Don't look at me like that." Clary said, wiping away a falling tear with the back of her already tear stained hand.

Church meowed again and gave Clary a look that, crazily, could've have only meant 'you look pathetic'.

"I know. You don't have to meow it in." Clary muttered, resting her chin on her arms as she stared at the grayish blue cat while it stared back.

Clary lost the staring contest, blinking when her raw red eyes needed tears. Church seemed to purr with satisfaction as it padded quietly and gracefully over to Clary, nudging her leg with its head as it settled beside her, it's tail swishing.

Church continued to nudge its head in a demanding manner, meowing occasionally. Clary sighed, scooping the ball of persistent fur up into her arms and into her lap. Church purred, his tail tickling Clary's arm as it continued swishing back and forth.

Clary absent-mindedly stroked Church's soft silky fur as she stared almost sightlessly at the flowers that were a few feet from where she sat.

Unlike normal daytime flowers that bloomed in the day, these flowers were closed and bundled up tightly. Even from here, Clary could smell their captivating scent of lavender and vanilla.

In a flash in her mind, she remembered one of the many dreams she had. This one of the blond angel in the midnight greenhouse. A tear slid down her cheek as she gritted her teeth.

Shadowhunters didn't cry.

Again and again, Clary saw in her head—not of Jace and Colette kissing but of Jace being happy with Colette; laughing, hugging and looking at Colette with eyes filled with love and adoration.

Clary realized in a small part in her body that what she was feeling for Jace was completely unreasonable but every time she saw those images in her head, it was like each image was a knife stabbed into her heart before being dragged across her already shredded heart.

She didn't hate Colette (which was absurd, she knew). For all Clary knew, Clary herself could've been the third wheel in their relationship.

Her eyes fluttered shut and the tears flowed again. She felt her lips tremble and she bit it hard to stop the trembling until she tasted blood. She gasped at the sudden pain, her eyes fluttering open.

Her tongue tasted salty coppery liquid.

Church meowed and Clary continued her unconsciously halted petting.