Bind To

Chapter 11: A Kiss?

Clary was frozen, her tears still falling hurriedly down her cheeks continuing to cloud her vision. The lips were still pressed against hers, moving slightly, and she began blinking furiously trying to see the person before her. As if sensing her actions, the lips disappeared and so did the warmth from another human. There was the sound of soft footfalls, quickening as well as softening. As the tears cleared enough from Clary's eyes to see, all that was left to see was the closing of the oak door. No sign of the stranger who had stolen her first kiss. Clary's tears had finally come to a stop although now her mind was whirling. 'Who had kissed her? Why hadn't they let her she them? Why didn't they say anything?' Then her mind shifted to earlier events: 'Did she really have feelings for Jace? And he for her? Or was Sebastian simply playing with her mind?"
Clary stood up, placing her hand against the wall to prevent herself from falling over. She blinked a few times before heading towards the window, directly across from her. Outside the grass was covered in a thin blanket of snow with additional flurries swirling through frigid air. She leaned closer to the window, resting her forehead against the chilled glass and allowing the cold to cool her heated face. With her breath fanning the window allowed it to frost. Once he face cooled, she pulled back to trace patterns on the glass where her breath has frosted it. She missed having the freedom to draw whenever she wanted. At her mother's house, she had an entire room full of paints, brushes, chalk, colored pencils and an other type of artistic device used by an artist. Her journal had been left at her mother's apartment and she had never gone back, nor wanted to. Clary pulled her tracing finger back, noting that it was numb and wiped at the unwanted, silent tears that had begun to fall once more.
She hated crying, she truly did. It made her seem weak, which was why she had tried to never shed a tear while she was in Valentine's hands. He could turn anything into a weakness. But certain thoughts would just jolt her in a certain direction, causing the waterworks to start. Her mother, the life she could have lived if Valentine hadn't interfered, Emma. As Emma crossed her mind, the waterworks went into overdrive and she found herself once more on the floor. Emma Carstairs was her untold secret. She had also been captured by Valentine, for what reason she wasn't sure, but she had escaped. It had been a miracle really, that a 12 year old was able to escape and go on the run. Emma had offered to take Clary with her, but she had refused. Emma had more of a chance for escaping and getting away with it if she didn't tag along. Although the next morning, Valentine had realized and the punishments had doubled. But with every stinging cut across her body came relief that Emma was safe and that helped her to keep going. Clary stood from her spot and decided it was time to do something to honor Emma, as she had promised. There were several spare rooms, lining the the corridor. She went into each room on the lookout for one thing, paint. Finally in one of the last rooms, she found what she was looking for. There was a collection of paints stacked in the back corner. Easels lined the wall with brushes scattered across the floor, most were cracked in half or the bristles were missing but Clary found one that looked decent enough to paint with and bucket of paint. It was rather heavy and caused her bony arm to ache, but she continued going back to the room and retrieving all of the colors needed for her painting. She started with dipping the paint in white and pressing the brush to the wooden floor of the corridor. The color spiraled from the brush as she dipped it in another color, then another and another. After about an hour, with no interruptions, Clary had finally finished. She pulled back and wiped the back of her hand across her forehead when a thin layer of sweat had formed. Clary stood up to examine her work. The painting was of Emma, her blonde hair swirling around her. Her back was facing out so you didn't have a view of her face. There was a sunset in the background, causing the light to flicker around her. Clary smiled sadly at her masterpiece, remembering Emma, until she decided to leave this area. She made her way out and towards the library, hoping to devour a book. Instead as she entered the library, she found the Lightwoods and Jace sitting in chairs and conversing between themselves. They looked up as she entered as the talking stopped. Maryse smiled sadly at her. "Clary, we were just getting ready to get you. Would you please take a seat?" Clary nodded and hesitantly took a seat in the open chair. "Clary, it's about Valentine..."