#evie in the first few moments of succumbing to the dark side

[selfmind]

red .    she  aches  in  it .     before  her   /   twice .    the  former ,   is  former .    the  corpse  of  the  late  ethan  frye   (  scorned  and  scorched ,   no  longer  in  one  piece   /   a  man  who  succumbed  to  the  anger  of  his  daughter  )  and  the  latter .   her  former  best  friend .    sister  in  arms ,   even .    corruption  takes  hold  at  the  root  of  anger  and  she  was  devoured  like  a  nexus  being .    choke ,   rot  and  decay .    the  weapon ,   clasped  ever  so  in  her  right  hand   ––––   aching  with  a  crimson  light .    chugging  poison  and  she’s  taken  the  bite  of  the  wrong  apple .    monster ,   she .   (  how  her  father  had  cried  when  she  has  severed  him  limb  from  limb   /   my  dearest  evelyn  abigail ,   please  do  not  do  this  ) .    she  had  not  stopped  nor  flinched .

azure  was  gone  from  her  eyes ,   now  only  void  kissed .    she  was  the  monster  that  her  father  had  spoke  of .    dearest  evelyn  abigail ,   how  far  she  fell .   ❛  tidreen ,   i  beg  of  you .    leave  before  i  am  forced  to  do  something  i  shall  come  to  regret .  ❜

              @lightlived

[eltanin-malfoy]

From the Dining Table

based on the song by Harry Styles

pairing: draco/ginny

word count: 2.5k

warning(s): heavy sexual themes/sex mention/non-graphic smut, angst, alcohol, cursing

requested: not

a/n: yet another depressing ass songfic! am i even surprised? not even a little bit. also, drinny >>> ALSO, v importantly, i’m gonna dedicate this to the lovely drawlfoy bc it was her 18th birthday on the 17th :) happy late birthday!!!!!!!!!! (also evi watch out, i’m working on a (v :/) late bday present my writer’s block has only just gone down recently :3)

taglist: @acciodracoo @drawlfoy @war-sword

also available on ffn, ao3 and fia

It was warm and it was satisfying. But then it was over and it wasn’t anymore. 

It was incredibly pathetic.

Draco lifted the sheets and brought his hand nearer to his face, turning it over. The skin of his palm was red where he’d held himself tight and was speckled with the evidence of the climax he’d brought himself to. The haze, the heat, he’d found himself in had practically vanished into thin air. He stared at it with disgust, then reached for his wand, placed precariously at the edge of his nightstand. 

He could almost imagine what she’d do if she was here. Poke his nose and giggle. Maybe even peck him on the cheek while she chided him for being silly. Ginny was always overly cheery after it was over, sometimes even uncharacteristically so. 

But Draco wasn’t. Especially not now. 

Memories of her pulsed through his mind. The sore stiffness on his front threatened to stir once more and Draco quickly flicked his wand towards his nethers and cast a cleaning charm under his breath. The sheets would be fine now. Not a soul would know what had transpired there that morning. But he… he felt tears dripping down his cheeks before he realised that the swirling in his stomach wasn’t just the aftermath of his orgasm. It was that awful, awful mixture of regret and anxiety. He was supposed to get used to it, he knew. But it felt just as painful as it had the moment it had all ended. 

There were a million ways to get over exes and he’d attempted and succeeded with them before. It’s just that this time around, he wasn’t trying. Maybe, he just didn’t want to. His heart was shattered, and instead of looking to mend it and try over again, for some reason he felt it was simpler to just mull over what had been. Or long for it, rather. 

A  few minutes had elapsed, and while his sniffing had ended, his eyelids were beginning to grow heavy. His wet cheeks felt oddly bloated and he knew his fantasy had long since ended. He’d attempted to imagine morning sex, pretending the hand he didn’t use often was hers. Why? Who knew. Who knew. He wondered when even something as primal as stroking himself would return to normalcy and he wouldn’t have to imagine it had anything to do with what used to be. This train of thought, however, was much too complex for the moment. He blinked slowly, letting the lids of his eyes droop and shield his pupils from the soft sunshine. He felt himself falling back into the void of sleep, succumbing to some odd sense of calm. The dark dreamlessness of his slumber was more comforting than anything else. 

But it wasn’t long before he felt the harsh rays of the early afternoon sun beating down on him, the glare from the french windows on the side of his room enveloping him in the heat. It was time to get up. But his feet suddenly felt too large and too heavy for the rest of his body. He could barely even fit two and two together before he walked over to the desk in the front of his room and picked up the receiver of the intercom and dialled for room service. 

Woke up alone in this hotel room

Played with myself, where were you?

Fell back to sleep, I got drunk by noon

I've never felt less cool

The harsh scent of whiskey could be smelt off his person. He knew it. Earthy, ethanolic, evocative. He’d ordered the most expensive bottle of whiskey they had and now he knew it’d been worth it. It tasted richer than that usual phenolic taste he’d become used to. You could even call it slightly leathery, with those soft notes of chocolate and smoke that Gin had taught him to look out for. Fucking hell. 

He’d poured himself just half a glass at first, mostly in an attempt to lie to himself. He wanted to limit his consumption of alcohol in the daytime, but it had been no good. The ice in his drink was still mostly solid after he’d finished his first glass, and it still was as he poured himself another. 

He’d relished the fervid feeling down his throat, the burning sensation that he hoped was numbing the pain in his chest. He stared at the half-empty bottle with nothing but remorse. He was laying back on the bed now, thoughts flitting through his mind while brain felt oddly fleshy in his skull. Every part of his body felt so heavy now he could barely lift a muscle. He’d always been deplorably lightweight. And now that he’d drunk so much all within thirty minutes, well, he was doing miserably. He could already feel his impending hangover, even the blood pumping through the veins on his head was cacophonic.

Now, now, he wished Ginny was here to take care of him. He knew this thread of thought was so very pitiful, but it was sensible. She was scarily good at handling her liquor, she always had been. Somehow. He supposed the only girl among a few brothers could certainly turn out just as, if not more, tough than the rest of them. It was something he admired, he’d told her. She could protect him when they’d be drinking. (She was a little more protective over him than he was towards her anyway.) 

His plan to distance himself from everyone and everything in an effort to get over his ex-girlfriend - ex-fiancée-to-be, ex-future-wife, whatever you wanted to call her - now seemed doltish, futile, even. Every single thing he did only reminded him of her. His original intent for his stay at this hotel had long since been lost. He’d stopped trying long since. There was no point.  

The day everything had gone to dust, it didn’t feel like it would be permanent. They’d had plenty of rifts between the two of them, which was to be expected really, what with them being as competitive and quarrelsome as they were and Ginny being a Quidditch player (  god, what a dream that was), they had their fair share of conflicts. But that time, he didn’t know that that evening, when she stepped out of his apartment, that they’d never speak again.

We haven't spoke since you went away

Comfortable silence is so overrated

Why won't you ever say what you want to say?

Even my phone misses your call, by the way

It had been a jealousy thing, he’d thought. Why she’d got so annoyed at him for spending time with Daphne. He didn’t say a word when she went out with her friends, regardless of their gender. Sure, she was very pretty, he’d admit that. But it wasn’t fair that she got annoyed at him for it. There’d only been two times when he’d had to blow off plans with her to spend time with Daph. He hadn’t meant anything by it. He hadn’t meant to forget that they were going to have dinner with her parents.

He’d told her so many times. But she hadn’t accepted his excuse. Not at all. 

“You’re a grown man, Draco. You were supposed to remember this. It was-” “Come on, Gin, I told you! I didn’t mean to forget.” “ Of course you didn’t! You didn’t mean to make my parents disapprove of you even more. You didn’t mean to make Ron hate you!”

“Gin, come on, I-” “No, don’t you ‘Gin’ me. You fucked up. Seriously. And I cannot believe you blew me off to spend time with her.”

“Her? What do you mean ‘her’? You can’t even say her name, do you despise her that much? I don’t say anything when you’re out with-with Luna or...  Potter.”

“You know there’s nothing going on between me and any of them. And there never will be. You know that. And you’ve met Luna enough times.. you don’t have to keep being snooty about her.”

“What? How was I being snooty?”

“You-you made that face. The one you make when you’re disgusted. It’s awful, you know? She’s one of my dearest friends and-” “Oh, and Daphne’s one of mine but I’m cheating with her, right?”

“I’ve told you, I trust you, it’s just that she’s so goddamn touchy and all of that. And she makes you-” 

“God, I shouldn’t even bother trying to make you like her, should I? You’re so fucking clingy.”

“Draco, goddammit, I-”

Her freckled cheeks had gone from slightly flushed to a deep crimson through the length of their conversation. With how mad she was at him, he knew she was fury in person. But now, there was something in those brown eyes of her that made him weak at the knees. Not in desperation, but more so in regret. The tears beginning to well up in the corners of her eyes made him feel like ripping his hair out in tufts. He wanted to make it all okay again. He wanted to lean down and kiss her and hug her and do anything and everything he could to make her stop looking so sad. 

“I can’t do this anymore, Draco.” “G-ginny, I didn’t mean any of it. I was mad and-” “It doesn’t matter. Y-you said it. And if you said it, you must have felt it, at least a little bit.” “No, but… I.. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll do anything, I swear.” She kept looking up at him so solemnly, so softly, with little tears streaking down her face while her dainty lips began to quiver. “It doesn’t matter.” “Ginny, I.. I’ll make it up to your parents. I’ll make them all dinner all by myself. I’ll-I’ll help.. your brothers. I’ll pay for anything. I swear. I’ve fucked up, I know. Please-” “Draco. Stop.”

She took a deep breath and looked to the side as she used the sleeve of that cute blue jumper to wipe away the mess on her face. He could hardly muster up the courage to look at her face, knowing it was him that had made her feel all that. It was enough to make his stomach drop low into his abdomen and the little food he’d had out with Daphne threaten to exit through his mouth.

Maybe one day you'll call me and tell me that you're sorry, too

Maybe one day you'll call me and tell me that you're sorry, too

Maybe one day you'll call me and tell me that you're sorry, too

He moved out of his parents’ estate and into muggle London for her, but he wasn’t even sure if she knew that. His father had never liked it at all. Him and the Weasley girl, he remembered the sour way it had dripped out of his mouth. But for once, he couldn’t take it anymore. The bloody Gryffindor he’d fallen in love with had made him feel brave enough to stand up to his father, somehow. His parents seemed okay with it. His mother did ask him to get himself his own place, however. He couldn’t even imagine what would have gone down had he fallen in love with a muggle-born, or worse, a muggle.

But here he was, making love to one, staying in a hotel in a part of London he’d never frequented before. And why? Because he thought it as revenge. It was a girl who looked similar enough to her when he squinted. Long, red hair and shapely legs. Not as freckled though, and not nearly as gorgeous. He tried not to look at her face much, because he knew the only way he could even get it up any more was by imagining it was Ginny with him. 

And it wasn’t even like he loved one night stands or something. He hadn’t even stepped out of his room much the whole time he’d stayed here. And yet, seeing him had sparked this rage, this uncontrollable hunger within him, that he just had to do something about it. 

Seeing that son of a bitch out that morning hadn’t stirred much in him at first. He’d thought now they finally had one thing in common. They were both Ginevra Molly Weasley’s exes. But of course, that was no longer true.

Ginevra Molly Weasley was seeing the other again. Or at least sleeping with him.

And how did he know this? The usual browned skin on his neck was adorned with hickeys and ceremonial bitemarks, much in Ginny’s fashion. His face was dazed and even his short, dark hair looked the slightest bit mussed. But oh, oh no. The shirt he had on.. was one of Draco’s own. Or at least it used to belong to him.

That once elegant navy button-up seemed hideous to him in that instant. Even thinking about Ginny having given it to him made his blood boil and swelter. And.. and imagining the context...

It made him want to get on his knees and wail in front of Ginny like a child. To beg for her back. Oh, how much he hated Dean bloody Thomas.

And that was how he justified his going out on the town and getting drunk that night. How he justified charming and shamelessly flirting with a girl he wouldn’t’ve even have treated with an ounce of respect even ten years earlier. It wasn’t his fault he could be so seductive when he tried to be. And he knew she was nothing but a piece of meat to her. A piece of meat that looked just enough like his lovely. Just enough for him to pretend that he loved her that night. 

He thought it would help a little bit, skin slapping against skin. He thought it would help ease that pain he felt deep inside of him. That perhaps holding someone the way he used to hold her would help him. But he knew it was no good. Because even while he tried his best to get her out of his head, she was there again. 

She was in between his fingers when they walked in a park. She was lying across his lap when he gave her the punishment she’d begged him for. She was in between his sheets while he fixed them breakfast. She was everywhere he looked, and yet she wasn’t.

She was in the teardrops that dripped down his face as he realised the girl he’d snuggled up to all night wasn’t even her. And she was still there, heavy in his heart as he quietly made his way out of the girl’s house.  God, he didn’t even remember her name, did he?

But Ginny, Ginny, Ginny’s name was all over him. Blazing red burned into his skin forever and ever still. No matter how hopeless he knew it was. No matter how much he knew there was nothing to come, no positive emotions from her to come into fruition ever, but the way she’d looked at him, so piercingly, so angry yet so calm, when he stepped out of her apartment that night, that was all he could see.

But you, you never do.

[the-writings-of-an-assassin]

Love and Death

****Listen to Underground by Austin Wintory from the AC: Syndicate soundtrack. The lyrics in this oneshot from that song. I was listening to the song when I was writing this.****

Pairing: Jacob Frye x OC

Warnings: DEATH, drowning, ****very long****

Word Count: 4457

Clary’s POV

I took a carriage to the market. Jacob would’ve gone with me, but he was busy with helping Henry and Evie with some templar hunting, and I didn’t want to bother him. I arrived at the market and got out. I searched around the plaza until I found a flower stand. I looked through the flowers until I found white roses and purchased a bundle of them. I continued to walk through the market plaza, looking around.

“Hello, beautiful,” a voice said behind me. “Are those roses for me?”

I turned around to be faced to face with two men in red uniforms. Blighters. “No, they’re for the Queen.”

“Oh, are you going to try to compliment and give your way into the palace?”

“No. I already work there.”

The one that was speaking to me got closer to me, and I started to back up. He turned me around, pinning my arms behind my back.

I tried to wiggle out of his grasp but failed. “Unhand me! The Queen will have your heads for handling me.”

“Ooh, is that supposed to scare me? You haven’t heard a threat yet.” I stopped trying to get out of his grasp when I felt the cool metal of a blade against the skin on my neck. Fear racked through me, and a tear escaped and ran down my cheek. “Here’s what’s going to happen: you’re going to come with us, and your little boyfriend will never find out.”

He walked me over to a carriage and covered my mouth with a rag that smelt weird. Darkness consumed me, and I fell limp in the Blighter’s arms.

~~~~~

Jacob’s POV

It’s been about three hours since Clary had left, and I was starting to worry. It usually doesn’t take her long to go to the market and come back. I walked into the study, where Evie and Henry were looking at some maps, discussing something of the creed. Evie looked up, her lips pursed, as if she was angry at me for coming into the study, still looking down at the maps.

“Evie, I think Clary is in trouble,” I announced. Evie’s eyes looked up at me, her eyes searching mine.

“Well, you think she’s in trouble? Go look for her, then.”

I let out a huff, turning around and leaving the room. “Go find her yourself,” I mocked, quietly. I walked to my room, grabbed my weapons, and left the mansion. I took a carriage to the marketplace and began to look around. I didn’t see Clary, or anyone really suspicious, so I blended into a small crowd. I spotted two Blighters and made my way to them, in between the crowds of people. I lowered my head, my hood hiding my face from them.

“Barron is going to be pleased with us. We have one of the Frye twins’ lover.”

I ran at them, lodging my hidden blade into one of their backs. The other one swung at me, striking me in the mouth. I wiped the blood from my lip, grinning maniacally. I punched the man in the mouth then punched him in the head, knocking him out. I made sure I kept him alive because I beat him to a pulp, if I have to, to get him to tell me where Clary was. I slung him over my shoulder and walked over to my carriage. I laid the Blighter down in the carriage and hopped up onto the front, taking the reins. I took the Blighter to the mansion. As I walked in, with the Blighter on my shoulders, both Evie and Henry raised an eyebrow at me.

“What?” I asked. “You said to go find Clary myself, that’s what I’m doing.” I took the Blighter to an empty room and sat him in the chair. I bound his wrists to the side of the chair and his ankles to the chair of the legs, and Evie and Henry walked in.

“So you brought a Blighter here?”

I looked up at her. “Yes.” I straightened back up and turned to them. “I’m going to interrogate him until I get the information I want out of him, then I’ll put a bullet in his skull.” Once I made sure he was secured down to the chair and rid him of his weapons, I left the room. Evie and Henry followed me out into the study. “I heard him say they have Clary.”

“So what’s your plan?” Evie asked.

“I don’t know yet. I have to wait until I get the information I need.”

Evie and Henry nodded, and I walked out of the study and into the room where I was keeping the hostage. I hid in the shadows until he woke up. He started to wake up and looked around.

“Where are you, assassin?” He yelled out.

I stepped out of the shadows.

“Hmm, always hiding in the shadows like a coward.”

I cracked my knuckles, grinning maniacally. “Tell me where she is.”

“Who?”

“Clary. The girl you’ve taken.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play bullshit with me. You know what I’m talking about. Where is she?!” I yelled this. I was getting pissed.

He just looked up at me, something laced his eyes. Amusement?

“Tell me where she is, or I’ll beat it out of you.” I clenched my hands together in a fist. When he didn’t tell me, I started to punch him in the face. I struck him in the jaw, and blood spurted out. “Tell me where she is!” I continued to beat the shit out of him.

“Wait, stop!” He yelled at me. “I know where she is.”

“So now you confess.”

“She’s in a place you’ve been before, where you liberated the first of our factories, in Lambeth. There’s a secret basement. But you might want to hurry if you want her alive.”

I pulled my revolver and loaded it. I pointed the barrel of the gun at his forehead and pulled the trigger. The echo of the gunshot rang through my ears. I walked out of the room and into the study. Evie looked up at me. “I know where she is. She’s in Lambeth, in a factory that we liberated. We need to hurry. She’s in danger. He said that I might want to hurry if I wanted her alive.” I walked out of the study and into the weapons room, and Henry and Evie followed me.

“So what’s the plan?”

“I don’t know. I’ll think of it on the way.” I made sure I had two extra revolvers and a few extra magazines of bullets. I slipped on my hidden blades and brass knuckles. Evie slipped on her hidden blades and grabbed her cane sword. Henry slid his blades into their sheaths, and we all walked out. We walked out of the mansion and took a carriage. Evie and I sat in the back, and Henry took the reigns. I started to think of a plan and told Evie as I thought of it. “There’s a secret basement. So this time, we’re going to do this stealthily. We’re going to pick off the Blighters so we won’t have to deal with them when we’re searching for the basement.”

“You’re actually doing something stealthily? Usually, you don’t.”

“I know, I know. I just want to get to Clary as fast as possible.” I looked out the window as I leaned my head against the velvet interior of the carriage as fear racked through me.

We’re coming for you, love.

Clary’s POV

When I woke up, I was chained to the stone floor, my wrists and ankles bound together by rusted, metal cuffs. The cold air brought me to my senses as I looked around. Everything was shrouded in darkness; the only light there was was the light streaming down from the metal grating above me, and the light that was illuminating the room was barely dim.

I heard a metal door squeak as it opened, and a lantern appeared. I couldn’t see the person who was holding it until he came closer to me, the glow of the lantern cast shadows across his face and the room. He was a man with a bushy mustache, wearing a Templar uniform.

He pulled a dagger out and lodged it into my side. I screamed out in pain as crimson started to stain the light blue material of my dress. “If you don’t bleed out, then you’ll succumb to an ice-cold grave. Either way, you won’t be able to see your lover again.” He left the room, the metal door squeaking shut.

“Jacob! Evie!” I yelled. “Anyone, help!” Tears threatened to fall.

There was a noise, like running water, echoing through the room. A few moments later, ice cold water hit my feet. After a few minutes, the water was up to my ankles, the water soaking into the bottom of my dress. Time went on, and I continued to scream for Evie and Jacob. The blood from my wound continued to spread until the dress material of my whole side was stained. The water has now reached up to my waist. The ice cold water was starting to numb my body.

“JACOB!” I was crying by now, tears ruining my makeup.

More time went on, and the water was now reaching up to my chin. The only way I was still standing was by the tightness of the chains that bound me to the floor. I looked up at the light, a single last tear trickling down my cheek as my body began to shut down.

Goodbye, Jacob, my love.

Jacob’s POV

We arrived at the factory in Lambeth and got out. Evie told Henry what the plan was. We found an open window on the lower level and climbed in. We hid behind a few columns. We all branched out, picking Blighters one by one. We cleared the bottom level. There was a Blighter standing near some crates, his back to me. I snuck up behind him and pinned his arms behind his back, holding a knife to his throat.

“Where is she?!” I spat.

“Who?”

“The girl. Where the hell is she?!” I was getting annoyed. “You’re not in a position to test me.”

“I know where she is. Walk down that hallway to the candle holder.” He pointed. I whistled, and Evie and Henry joined me. Evie took the man out of my hands, and I walked down the hallway at the candle holder. “Pull it down.” I did as he said, and a secret door opened. We walked down the stairs to a room that had a hole covered by metal grating. Water filled the hole. “She’s in there.”

“Oh, god.” A tear came to my eye at the thought of her being dead when I found her. Henry and I opened the metal grating. I took my weapons and overcoat off and sat them on the floor. I plunged into the murky ice water, and it felt like a thousand needles stabbing me. I swam to the bottom and searched but didn’t find her. I came back up for air.

“I can’t find her.” My voice cracked. “I can’t find her, Evie.” I was starting to panic. A tear threatened to fall, my lips trembled from the cold water.

“Keep trying,” Evie encouraged.

I took a breath and redove. I found her and kicked the cuffs on her ankles and resurfaced with my arm around her waist. I swam over to the side, and Henry lifted her up onto the stone floor.

I lifted myself up onto the floor and crawled over to her. “Clary.” I shook her. Nothing happened. “Clary, baby, you gotta wake up.” I cut the thin material of her dress open to reveal her corset. I loosened the strings to allow her to cough up any water. I started to do CPR. Nothing happened. More tears stained my cheeks. I checked her neck for a pulse and didn’t find one. The tears dripped off my cheek and splashed on her cheek. I heard Evie sniffle, and I looked up to see a single tear sliding down Evie’s cheek. My bottom lip trembled as I shook with grief. I stroked her soaking hair. “Clary,” I sobbed. I was shivering, and Evie wrapped my coat around my shoulders. I held her face in my hands.

“Jacob,” Evie started. “Come on. We need to leave.”

I got up, slipping my coat and weapons on. I picked Clary up, bridal style, and carried her out. We all walked out to the carriage. I laid Clary on the seat on the back. I stroked her cheek. “I will avenge you, love.” My anger started to flare. I clenched my jaw together as I looked at the Blighter. “Take me to your leader,” I spat at him. I walked in the front of the group, with Evie, who still had the Blighter’s arms pinned behind his back, behind me, and Henry following up on the back. He led us through the factory but stopped us halfway through it.

“Wait, I should go alone. He will suspect that something is up if you were right behind us.”

“If you screw up, I will make you suffer.” My face was inches from his. Evie shoved him forwards. “Get a move on.”

He began to walk, and Evie, Henry, and I crouched down and edged along the sides of the building. The Blighter began to run, and all three of us began to run after him. He made it to the door before we could reach him, and he burst through the door. I pulled out a knife and aimed for his head. I threw it as hard as I could, and it didn’t lodge in his head, it went through his skull, blood splattering onto the wall next to him. Evie and I walked through the room, with Henry following us. We walked through the door, and Henry slammed it shut. Evie leaned against it with her foot flat against it and her arms across her chest.

The Blighter leader was sitting at his desk. He was casually sitting there, a smirk on his face.

“You manky chav,” I spat at him. “I’ll wipe that smirk off your face before you have time to fathom what has happened, you knobhead. Are you dead from the neck up?!”

“I see you’ve found your lover.” He stood up from his desk and walked to the side of it.

“Yes, and you’re going to die for it. If I don’t kill you today, which I don’t think will happen, the Queen will have your head. Because Clary was her personal maid.”

“Do you think that I really care about that daft cow of a slag?” He spat back at me.

My blood boiled even more. I clenched my fists together. “Shut up, you arselicker.” I closed in on him. I slid my hidden blade out and pressed it against his throat. “This is for Clary.” Tears glazed my eyes as I pressed the blade further into his throat until it broke the skin, then still kept pressing until blood started to gush from the wound. My face was so close to his that when the blood gushed from his wound, it splattered onto my face. I wanted him to see the pain and anger in my eyes just as he dies. I dropped the body onto the floor and turned around, my legs suddenly feeling like they had turned to jelly. I leaned against the desk, trying to relieve the weight, tears spilling down my cheeks.

Evie walked over to me and wiped some blood away. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

I weakly nodded, and we began to walk out of the hideout. I eventually leaned against Evie, and she put her arm around me, the weight of grief becoming too unbearable. We walked out to the carriage. I got the back, and Evie and Henry sat in the front. I sat down with Clary in my lap, holding her close to me. Tears continued to fall and land on her cheeks and hair. I stroked her hair.

“Why did you have to be taken away from me so fast?” I whispered into her hair.

The carriage lurched forward.

I started to curl her hair around my fingers like I used to do. “You have to wake up, Clary. I was going to marry you one day.” it felt like it was an eternity until we reached the mansion. Once we reached our home, I gathered the strength I had and got out. I carried Clary to our room and laid her on the bed. I collapsed to the floor. I leaned against the side of the bed, sobbing. Evie walked in a few moments later and sat down next to me. She wrapped her arm around me, and I leaned into her shoulder, the tears soaking her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Jacob. I’m sorry that this had to happen to you and her.”

I was too grief stricken to speak. I continued to cry into her shoulder. Henry walked in. “We need to stitch her wound up. She’s still bleeding.”

I looked up to him, my eyes blurry from the tears.

“Henry and I can do it,” Evie said. “It’d be too much for you to have to stitch her wound.”

I nodded. They left and prepared the medical tools. In their absence, I got up and walked to our closet. I began to look through her dresses. I found one that was a light blue and white with short, white, lace sleeves. It was one of her favorite dresses. She would look so beautiful in it. I pulled it out and hung it up. I pulled out the diamond and sapphire engagement ring and sat it on the nightstand.

Evie and Henry came in with the needle, thread, and the pan of water with a rag. I sat down in a chair beside Clary. I watched as they undressed her and cleaned and stitched her wound. When they were done, Evie pulled a blanket over her up to her shoulders. They started to walk out when I spoke.

“Evie.” She turned around, and Henry took the bin of water from her and disappeared down the hall. “I want to put her in that dress. Will you help me?”

“Of course.” She walked over to the dress and took it down. We slipped her into the dress, but my fingers kept faltering with the laces of the corset, so Evie took over and laced it up. Once we were done, and Evie had left the room, I slipped the ring onto her finger. I folded her arms over her torso and clasped her hands together at her lower torso. “You need to come back. We were going to get married and have a couple of kids together. And we were supposed to grow old together.” I sat them in the chair and stared at the moon outside. I began to sing a sad song:

“Take a look round lively old London Buzzing crowds we sweat and we revel Red-cheeked shouts and songs In the flicker of the gaslight

Eager Blighty bursts from the cobblestones Racing, climbing blooming fertility Born from secret seeds That were scattered in the nighttime

London is fed upon the meat of the dead They’re one shallow inch below the town

Underground Underground Leave them underground

Them that whispered dreams that only poisoned us

Them that told us lies of their bravery Them that preached of progress, and put us in the poorhouse

Them done horrid murder on bloody stages Them that loudly crowed their humility Lords and dames that sung in the chapels on a Sunday

All quiet now. Their mouths are stopped up by mud. They lie flung in rags and make no sound.

Underground Underground Leave them underground

Those who fought for something better Those who taught by how they lived Loved ones taken long before their work was done,” I began to sob but continued to sing, the words barely audible:

“Underground Underground Leave them underground.

Underground Underground Leave them underground.”

When I was done, I was a sobbing mess. I sat down on the floor and leaned against the side of the bed, still crying.

“God, anyone, why did you have to take her from me? She was far too young. She had so much to experience. Please bring her back. I’m lost without her. She means so much to me.”

Eventually, exhaustion took over, and I slipped into the darkness.

~~~~~~~

I was laying in bed, a warm body next to me. I looked over to see Clary, laying there, watching me. Her chocolate brown eyes twinkled in the moonlight as they watched me. A smile was plastered on her perfect lips. She leaned in and kissed me. Our lips molded together as if they were shaped by destiny to be together. Her fingers traced my scars on my bare chest as I wrapped my arms around her. The gold wedding band she wore gleamed at me, and her engagement ring sparkled against our skin. We pulled back to take a breath in.

“I’m happy you were first love,” she whispered.

“I’m happy I found you before any louzy man could’ve found you.” I smiled at her. I began to draw on the skin on her waist, and she hummed.

“You know, it is our wedding night, so you know what the means…” She trailed off, and I caught onto her drift. We began to kiss again. I slipped her nightgown off.

~~~~~~

“Jacob, wake up,” a voice said in my ear. My teary eyes opened to see Evie. She had her arms around my shoulders. “You were crying in your sleep.”

I sighed. “It was our wedding night…” I looked down, the tears still falling. “I just want her back.”

“I know.” She stroked my hair. “Go get a bath. I’ve already sent Henry to get a bath ready.”

I nodded. There was knock on the door, and Henry came in. “The bath is ready.”

I nodded again. I got up and picked up the folded clothes that sat on the nightstand. I walked to the bathroom and stripped down. I slipped into the warm water.

“God, Juno, please bring her back,” I plead again. “I need her. She keeps me at bay when my stupidity gets the best of me.” More tears came to my eyes. It was impossible to think of life without her; I didn’t want a future without her.

I eventually got out, dried off, and slipped on my clothes. I walked back to the room and sat down in the chair. I watched her the whole day, not eating nor drinking when Evie or Henry brought me some food. I couldn’t think. It was around six in the evening when I think I started to go insane.

I could see a beam of light. Before me, a goddess appeared. “I am here, Jacob,” her voice was angelic.

“Why are you here?”

“I heard your pleas, and I am here to fill them. I will bring her back but hear this: this is the only time I am allowing some who died to be brought back. My reason is is that you and Evie are so close to finding the Piece of Eden, and Clarissa is an excellent asset you and your sister. If Clarissa is to die again, I will not allow her revival.”

“I will protect her with my life,” I swore.

“I certainly hope you will. You looked lost without her.” She then extended her arm out until her hand was directly over Clary’s mouth. A bright, white smoke fell from her hand and was sucked into Clary’s nose. The goddess left, and the bright light disappeared. I looked to Clary, who was still unconscious. She didn’t show any signs of life, and I was grief stricken. Maybe all of this was dream. Maybe she wasn’t going to come back. I stared out the window and started to sing my sad tune again like I had the night before.

Clary’s POV

A sudden breath of air made me lurch forward. I opened my eyes to see Jacob sitting in a chair, staring out the window. He was singing a sad tune. “Jacob-” I gasped, shaking. I couldn’t feel my limbs; they were numb.

He turned around, tears in his eyes. “I’m here, love.” He rushed to me. “Evie!” He yelled. He pulled a blanket over me just as Evie and Henry came in through the door. They both were wide eyed but soon snapped out of it when they saw me shaking.

“Evie, help me get her out of the dress,” Jacob instructed. “Henry, go get some hot pans.”

Henry left, and Evie and Jacob started to undress me.

“This is impossible,” Evie said. “How?”

I was in my favorite dress. Once they had me undressed and into a nightgown, Jacob slipped me under the covers.

“I plead to God or to Juno, to anyone really, and Juno answered my prayers,” he confessed.

They laid two more fleecy blankets over me, and Jacob slipped in next to me. He wrapped his arms around me, and his warm skin burned my ice cold skin. I curled into him, wrapping my arms around him. Henry came in with a couple of hot pans and slipped them under the covers, the heat warming up the bed sheets. I was still shaking, and Jacob was rubbing my back and arms to try to warm me up. Evie left us alone.

“What happened?” I asked through a shaky breath.

“You had drowned by a Blighter leader. You were dead for a day and a half.”

Shock wracked through me. “As long as I’m with you, I couldn’t be any happier.”

A tear trickled down his cheek. I’ve never seen him cry before. “I was so lost without you.” He started to break down. I pulled him closer, and he buried his face into my shoulder. “I didn’t want to be in this world without you.”

“Shh. It’s alright now. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” I kissed him, and he kissed me back passionately. I soothed his crying, and we eventually fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, in a warm embrace.

~~~~~~

I woke up. Jacob was still asleep, so I untangled myself from him. I pulled some clothes out of my closet and was walking to the bathroom to ready a bath when I noticed an engagement ring on my finger. I heard shuffling and looked back to see Jacob getting out of bed.

I examined the ring. “Jacob, what’s this, love?”

He got up and walked to me. He was still shirtless and in his trousers. He had a smile plastered on his perfect lips. “Clarissa Olivia Kingston, will you marry me?"

[winterwriter8845]

Love and Death

****Listen to Underground by Austin Wintory from the AC: Syndicate soundtrack. The lyrics in this oneshot from that song. I was listening to the song when I was writing this.****

Pairing: Jacob Frye x OC

Warnings: DEATH, drowning, ****very long****

Word Count: 4457

Clary's POV

I took a carriage to the market. Jacob would've gone with me, but he was busy with helping Henry and Evie with some templar hunting, and I didn't want to bother him. I arrived at the market and got out. I searched around the plaza until I found a flower stand. I looked through the flowers until I found white roses and purchased a bundle of them. I continued to walk through the market plaza, looking around.

"Hello, beautiful," a voice said behind me. "Are those roses for me?"

I turned around to be faced to face with two men in red uniforms. Blighters. "No, they're for the Queen."

"Oh, are you going to try to compliment and give your way into the palace?"

"No. I already work there."

The one that was speaking to me got closer to me, and I started to back up. He turned me around, pinning my arms behind my back.

I tried to wiggle out of his grasp but failed. "Unhand me! The Queen will have your heads for handling me."

"Ooh, is that supposed to scare me? You haven't heard a threat yet." I stopped trying to get out of his grasp when I felt the cool metal of a blade against the skin on my neck. Fear racked through me, and a tear escaped and ran down my cheek. "Here's what's going to happen: you're going to come with us, and your little boyfriend will never find out."

He walked me over to a carriage and covered my mouth with a rag that smelt weird. Darkness consumed me, and I fell limp in the Blighter's arms.

~~~~~

Jacob's POV

It's been about three hours since Clary had left, and I was starting to worry. It usually doesn't take her long to go to the market and come back. I walked into the study, where Evie and Henry were looking at some maps, discussing something of the creed. Evie looked up, her lips pursed, as if she was angry at me for coming into the study, still looking down at the maps.

"Evie, I think Clary is in trouble," I announced. Evie's eyes looked up at me, her eyes searching mine.

"Well, you think she's in trouble? Go look for her, then."

I let out a huff, turning around and leaving the room. "Go find her yourself," I mocked, quietly. I walked to my room, grabbed my weapons, and left the mansion. I took a carriage to the marketplace and began to look around. I didn't see Clary, or anyone really suspicious, so I blended into a small crowd. I spotted two Blighters and made my way to them, in between the crowds of people. I lowered my head, my hood hiding my face from them.

"Barron is going to be pleased with us. We have one of the Frye twins' lover."

I ran at them, lodging my hidden blade into one of their backs. The other one swung at me, striking me in the mouth. I wiped the blood from my lip, grinning maniacally. I punched the man in the mouth then punched him in the head, knocking him out. I made sure I kept him alive because I beat him to a pulp, if I have to, to get him to tell me where Clary was. I slung him over my shoulder and walked over to my carriage. I laid the Blighter down in the carriage and hopped up onto the front, taking the reins. I took the Blighter to the mansion. As I walked in, with the Blighter on my shoulders, both Evie and Henry raised an eyebrow at me.

"What?" I asked. "You said to go find Clary myself, that's what I'm doing." I took the Blighter to an empty room and sat him in the chair. I bound his wrists to the side of the chair and his ankles to the chair of the legs, and Evie and Henry walked in.

"So you brought a Blighter here?"

I looked up at her. "Yes." I straightened back up and turned to them. "I'm going to interrogate him until I get the information I want out of him, then I'll put a bullet in his skull." Once I made sure he was secured down to the chair and rid him of his weapons, I left the room. Evie and Henry followed me out into the study. "I heard him say they have Clary."

"So what's your plan?" Evie asked.

"I don't know yet. I have to wait until I get the information I need."

Evie and Henry nodded, and I walked out of the study and into the room where I was keeping the hostage. I hid in the shadows until he woke up. He started to wake up and looked around.

"Where are you, assassin?" He yelled out.

I stepped out of the shadows.

"Hmm, always hiding in the shadows like a coward."

I cracked my knuckles, grinning maniacally. "Tell me where she is."

"Who?"

"Clary. The girl you've taken."

"I've no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't play bullshit with me. You know what I'm talking about. Where is she?!" I yelled this. I was getting pissed.

He just looked up at me, something laced his eyes. Amusement?

"Tell me where she is, or I'll beat it out of you." I clenched my hands together in a fist. When he didn't tell me, I started to punch him in the face. I struck him in the jaw, and blood spurted out. "Tell me where she is!" I continued to beat the shit out of him.

"Wait, stop!" He yelled at me. "I know where she is."

"So now you confess."

"She's in a place you've been before, where you liberated the first of our factories, in Lambeth. There's a secret basement. But you might want to hurry if you want her alive."

I pulled my revolver and loaded it. I pointed the barrel of the gun at his forehead and pulled the trigger. The echo of the gunshot rang through my ears. I walked out of the room and into the study. Evie looked up at me. "I know where she is. She's in Lambeth, in a factory that we liberated. We need to hurry. She's in danger. He said that I might want to hurry if I wanted her alive." I walked out of the study and into the weapons room, and Henry and Evie followed me.

"So what's the plan?"

"I don't know. I'll think of it on the way." I made sure I had two extra revolvers and a few extra magazines of bullets. I slipped on my hidden blades and brass knuckles. Evie slipped on her hidden blades and grabbed her cane sword. Henry slid his blades into their sheaths, and we all walked out. We walked out of the mansion and took a carriage. Evie and I sat in the back, and Henry took the reigns. I started to think of a plan and told Evie as I thought of it. "There's a secret basement. So this time, we're going to do this stealthily. We're going to pick off the Blighters so we won't have to deal with them when we're searching for the basement."

"You're actually doing something stealthily? Usually, you don't."

"I know, I know. I just want to get to Clary as fast as possible." I looked out the window as I leaned my head against the velvet interior of the carriage as fear racked through me.

We're coming for you, love.

Clary's POV

When I woke up, I was chained to the stone floor, my wrists and ankles bound together by rusted, metal cuffs. The cold air brought me to my senses as I looked around. Everything was shrouded in darkness; the only light there was was the light streaming down from the metal grating above me, and the light that was illuminating the room was barely dim.

I heard a metal door squeak as it opened, and a lantern appeared. I couldn't see the person who was holding it until he came closer to me, the glow of the lantern cast shadows across his face and the room. He was a man with a bushy mustache, wearing a Templar uniform.

He pulled a dagger out and lodged it into my side. I screamed out in pain as crimson started to stain the light blue material of my dress. "If you don't bleed out, then you'll succumb to an ice-cold grave. Either way, you won't be able to see your lover again." He left the room, the metal door squeaking shut.

"Jacob! Evie!" I yelled. "Anyone, help!" Tears threatened to fall.

There was a noise, like running water, echoing through the room. A few moments later, ice cold water hit my feet. After a few minutes, the water was up to my ankles, the water soaking into the bottom of my dress. Time went on, and I continued to scream for Evie and Jacob. The blood from my wound continued to spread until the dress material of my whole side was stained. The water has now reached up to my waist. The ice cold water was starting to numb my body.

"JACOB!" I was crying by now, tears ruining my makeup.

More time went on, and the water was now reaching up to my chin. The only way I was still standing was by the tightness of the chains that bound me to the floor. I looked up at the light, a single last tear trickling down my cheek as my body began to shut down.

Goodbye, Jacob, my love.

Jacob's POV

We arrived at the factory in Lambeth and got out. Evie told Henry what the plan was. We found an open window on the lower level and climbed in. We hid behind a few columns. We all branched out, picking Blighters one by one. We cleared the bottom level. There was a Blighter standing near some crates, his back to me. I snuck up behind him and pinned his arms behind his back, holding a knife to his throat.

"Where is she?!" I spat.

"Who?"

"The girl. Where the hell is she?!" I was getting annoyed. "You're not in a position to test me."

"I know where she is. Walk down that hallway to the candle holder." He pointed. I whistled, and Evie and Henry joined me. Evie took the man out of my hands, and I walked down the hallway at the candle holder. "Pull it down." I did as he said, and a secret door opened. We walked down the stairs to a room that had a hole covered by metal grating. Water filled the hole. "She's in there."

"Oh, god." A tear came to my eye at the thought of her being dead when I found her. Henry and I opened the metal grating. I took my weapons and overcoat off and sat them on the floor. I plunged into the murky ice water, and it felt like a thousand needles stabbing me. I swam to the bottom and searched but didn't find her. I came back up for air.

"I can't find her." My voice cracked. "I can't find her, Evie." I was starting to panic. A tear threatened to fall, my lips trembled from the cold water.

"Keep trying," Evie encouraged.

I took a breath and redove. I found her and kicked the cuffs on her ankles and resurfaced with my arm around her waist. I swam over to the side, and Henry lifted her up onto the stone floor.

I lifted myself up onto the floor and crawled over to her. "Clary." I shook her. Nothing happened. "Clary, baby, you gotta wake up." I cut the thin material of her dress open to reveal her corset. I loosened the strings to allow her to cough up any water. I started to do CPR. Nothing happened. More tears stained my cheeks. I checked her neck for a pulse and didn't find one. The tears dripped off my cheek and splashed on her cheek. I heard Evie sniffle, and I looked up to see a single tear sliding down Evie's cheek. My bottom lip trembled as I shook with grief. I stroked her soaking hair. "Clary," I sobbed. I was shivering, and Evie wrapped my coat around my shoulders. I held her face in my hands.

"Jacob," Evie started. "Come on. We need to leave."

I got up, slipping my coat and weapons on. I picked Clary up, bridal style, and carried her out. We all walked out to the carriage. I laid Clary on the seat on the back. I stroked her cheek. "I will avenge you, love." My anger started to flare. I clenched my jaw together as I looked at the Blighter. "Take me to your leader," I spat at him. I walked in the front of the group, with Evie, who still had the Blighter's arms pinned behind his back, behind me, and Henry following up on the back. He led us through the factory but stopped us halfway through it.

"Wait, I should go alone. He will suspect that something is up if you were right behind us."

"If you screw up, I will make you suffer." My face was inches from his. Evie shoved him forwards. "Get a move on."

He began to walk, and Evie, Henry, and I crouched down and edged along the sides of the building. The Blighter began to run, and all three of us began to run after him. He made it to the door before we could reach him, and he burst through the door. I pulled out a knife and aimed for his head. I threw it as hard as I could, and it didn't lodge in his head, it went through his skull, blood splattering onto the wall next to him. Evie and I walked through the room, with Henry following us. We walked through the door, and Henry slammed it shut. Evie leaned against it with her foot flat against it and her arms across her chest.

The Blighter leader was sitting at his desk. He was casually sitting there, a smirk on his face.

"You manky chav," I spat at him. "I'll wipe that smirk off your face before you have time to fathom what has happened, you knobhead. Are you dead from the neck up?!"

"I see you've found your lover." He stood up from his desk and walked to the side of it.

"Yes, and you're going to die for it. If I don't kill you today, which I don't think will happen, the Queen will have your head. Because Clary was her personal maid."

"Do you think that I really care about that daft cow of a slag?" He spat back at me.

My blood boiled even more. I clenched my fists together. "Shut up, you arselicker." I closed in on him. I slid my hidden blade out and pressed it against his throat. "This is for Clary." Tears glazed my eyes as I pressed the blade further into his throat until it broke the skin, then still kept pressing until blood started to gush from the wound. My face was so close to his that when the blood gushed from his wound, it splattered onto my face. I wanted him to see the pain and anger in my eyes just as he dies. I dropped the body onto the floor and turned around, my legs suddenly feeling like they had turned to jelly. I leaned against the desk, trying to relieve the weight, tears spilling down my cheeks.

Evie walked over to me and wiped some blood away. "Come on. Let's go home."

I weakly nodded, and we began to walk out of the hideout. I eventually leaned against Evie, and she put her arm around me, the weight of grief becoming too unbearable. We walked out to the carriage. I got the back, and Evie and Henry sat in the front. I sat down with Clary in my lap, holding her close to me. Tears continued to fall and land on her cheeks and hair. I stroked her hair.

"Why did you have to be taken away from me so fast?" I whispered into her hair.

The carriage lurched forward.

I started to curl her hair around my fingers like I used to do. "You have to wake up, Clary. I was going to marry you one day." it felt like it was an eternity until we reached the mansion. Once we reached our home, I gathered the strength I had and got out. I carried Clary to our room and laid her on the bed. I collapsed to the floor. I leaned against the side of the bed, sobbing. Evie walked in a few moments later and sat down next to me. She wrapped her arm around me, and I leaned into her shoulder, the tears soaking her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Jacob. I'm sorry that this had to happen to you and her."

I was too grief stricken to speak. I continued to cry into her shoulder. Henry walked in. "We need to stitch her wound up. She's still bleeding."

I looked up to him, my eyes blurry from the tears.

"Henry and I can do it," Evie said. "It'd be too much for you to have to stitch her wound."

I nodded. They left and prepared the medical tools. In their absence, I got up and walked to our closet. I began to look through her dresses. I found one that was a light blue and white with short, white, lace sleeves. It was one of her favorite dresses. She would look so beautiful in it. I pulled it out and hung it up. I pulled out the diamond and sapphire engagement ring and sat it on the nightstand.

Evie and Henry came in with the needle, thread, and the pan of water with a rag. I sat down in a chair beside Clary. I watched as they undressed her and cleaned and stitched her wound. When they were done, Evie pulled a blanket over her up to her shoulders. They started to walk out when I spoke.

"Evie." She turned around, and Henry took the bin of water from her and disappeared down the hall. "I want to put her in that dress. Will you help me?"

"Of course." She walked over to the dress and took it down. We slipped her into the dress, but my fingers kept faltering with the laces of the corset, so Evie took over and laced it up. Once we were done, and Evie had left the room, I slipped the ring onto her finger. I folded her arms over her torso and clasped her hands together at her lower torso. "You need to come back. We were going to get married and have a couple of kids together. And we were supposed to grow old together." I sat them in the chair and stared at the moon outside. I began to sing a sad song:

"Take a look round lively old London Buzzing crowds we sweat and we revel Red-cheeked shouts and songs In the flicker of the gaslight

Eager Blighty bursts from the cobblestones Racing, climbing blooming fertility Born from secret seeds That were scattered in the nighttime

London is fed upon the meat of the dead They're one shallow inch below the town

Underground Underground Leave them underground

Them that whispered dreams that only poisoned us

Them that told us lies of their bravery Them that preached of progress, and put us in the poorhouse

Them done horrid murder on bloody stages Them that loudly crowed their humility Lords and dames that sung in the chapels on a Sunday

All quiet now. Their mouths are stopped up by mud. They lie flung in rags and make no sound.

Underground Underground Leave them underground

Those who fought for something better Those who taught by how they lived Loved ones taken long before their work was done," I began to sob but continued to sing, the words barely audible:

"Underground Underground Leave them underground.

Underground Underground Leave them underground."

When I was done, I was a sobbing mess. I sat down on the floor and leaned against the side of the bed, still crying.

"God, anyone, why did you have to take her from me? She was far too young. She had so much to experience. Please bring her back. I'm lost without her. She means so much to me."

Eventually, exhaustion took over, and I slipped into the darkness.

~~~~~~~

I was laying in bed, a warm body next to me. I looked over to see Clary, laying there, watching me. Her chocolate brown eyes twinkled in the moonlight as they watched me. A smile was plastered on her perfect lips. She leaned in and kissed me. Our lips molded together as if they were shaped by destiny to be together. Her fingers traced my scars on my bare chest as I wrapped my arms around her. The gold wedding band she wore gleamed at me, and her engagement ring sparkled against our skin. We pulled back to take a breath in.

"I'm happy you were first love," she whispered.

"I'm happy I found you before any louzy man could've found you." I smiled at her. I began to draw on the skin on her waist, and she hummed.

"You know, it is our wedding night, so you know what the means..." She trailed off, and I caught onto her drift. We began to kiss again. I slipped her nightgown off.

~~~~~~

"Jacob, wake up," a voice said in my ear. My teary eyes opened to see Evie. She had her arms around my shoulders. "You were crying in your sleep."

I sighed. "It was our wedding night..." I looked down, the tears still falling. "I just want her back."

"I know." She stroked my hair. "Go get a bath. I've already sent Henry to get a bath ready."

I nodded. There was knock on the door, and Henry came in. "The bath is ready."

I nodded again. I got up and picked up the folded clothes that sat on the nightstand. I walked to the bathroom and stripped down. I slipped into the warm water.

"God, Juno, please bring her back," I plead again. "I need her. She keeps me at bay when my stupidity gets the best of me." More tears came to my eyes. It was impossible to think of life without her; I didn't want a future without her.

I eventually got out, dried off, and slipped on my clothes. I walked back to the room and sat down in the chair. I watched her the whole day, not eating nor drinking when Evie or Henry brought me some food. I couldn't think. It was around six in the evening when I think I started to go insane.

I could see a beam of light. Before me, a goddess appeared. "I am here, Jacob," her voice was angelic.

"Why are you here?"

"I heard your pleas, and I am here to fill them. I will bring her back but hear this: this is the only time I am allowing some who died to be brought back. My reason is is that you and Evie are so close to finding the Piece of Eden, and Clarissa is an excellent asset you and your sister. If Clarissa is to die again, I will not allow her revival."

"I will protect her with my life," I swore.

"I certainly hope you will. You looked lost without her." She then extended her arm out until her hand was directly over Clary's mouth. A bright, white smoke fell from her hand and was sucked into Clary's nose. The goddess left, and the bright light disappeared. I looked to Clary, who was still unconscious. She didn't show any signs of life, and I was grief stricken. Maybe all of this was dream. Maybe she wasn't going to come back. I stared out the window and started to sing my sad tune again like I had the night before.

Clary's POV

A sudden breath of air made me lurch forward. I opened my eyes to see Jacob sitting in a chair, staring out the window. He was singing a sad tune. "Jacob-" I gasped, shaking. I couldn't feel my limbs; they were numb.

He turned around, tears in his eyes. "I'm here, love." He rushed to me. "Evie!" He yelled. He pulled a blanket over me just as Evie and Henry came in through the door. They both were wide eyed but soon snapped out of it when they saw me shaking.

"Evie, help me get her out of the dress," Jacob instructed. "Henry, go get some hot pans."

Henry left, and Evie and Jacob started to undress me.

"This is impossible," Evie said. "How?"

I was in my favorite dress. Once they had me undressed and into a nightgown, Jacob slipped me under the covers.

"I plead to God or to Juno, to anyone really, and Juno answered my prayers," he confessed.

They laid two more fleecy blankets over me, and Jacob slipped in next to me. He wrapped his arms around me, and his warm skin burned my ice cold skin. I curled into him, wrapping my arms around him. Henry came in with a couple of hot pans and slipped them under the covers, the heat warming up the bed sheets. I was still shaking, and Jacob was rubbing my back and arms to try to warm me up. Evie left us alone.

"What happened?" I asked through a shaky breath.

"You had drowned by a Blighter leader. You were dead for a day and a half."

Shock wracked through me. "As long as I'm with you, I couldn't be any happier."

A tear trickled down his cheek. I've never seen him cry before. "I was so lost without you." He started to break down. I pulled him closer, and he buried his face into my shoulder. "I didn't want to be in this world without you."

"Shh. It's alright now. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." I kissed him, and he kissed me back passionately. I soothed his crying, and we eventually fell asleep, wrapped in each other's arms, in a warm embrace.

~~~~~~

I woke up. Jacob was still asleep, so I untangled myself from him. I pulled some clothes out of my closet and was walking to the bathroom to ready a bath when I noticed an engagement ring on my finger. I heard shuffling and looked back to see Jacob getting out of bed.

I examined the ring. "Jacob, what's this, love?"

He got up and walked to me. He was still shirtless and in his trousers. He had a smile plastered on his perfect lips. "Clarissa Olivia Kingston, will you marry me?"  

[awriterincrime]

Committed : Part Three (Harry Hook)

Prompt : Aaliyah(reader), the daughter of Princess Tiana and Prince Naveen, is arranged a husband to maintain the legacy of Maldonia. What she didn’t expect was who she would be arranged with.

Warnings : Cursing?

A/N : So I somehow got chapter 3 done! I was actually inspired by a post I saw in the Harry Hook tag, and I make reference to it in the chapter! So if you want to see what imt talking about (its a map)) click here! It was someone else’s idea, so all credit goes to them ! I just adapted on it.And thank you to everyone who sends me lovely messages it honestly makes my week. If you like the chapter, please message me your feedback! What you like, what you don’t like, what you want to see in the next chapter. I need to know!

Part 1 / Part 2

Get out. Get out right now.

Those were the few words running through Aaliyah’s head as she frantically scattered the dark alleys of the Isle. She was cold, alone, and roaming one of the most dangerous islands to ever be inhabited. Fun.

Wandering alone in the middle of the night didn’t seem safe, but she didn’t have much of a choice. It was all a mistake, coming to the Isle to meet Harry. She should’ve listened to Evie and stayed with her on Auradon. Maybe she wouldn’t have been caught up in this mess. Her little adventure was over, and all she wanted was to be home.

Her whole body ached after the fight. A harsh pulse flew through each muscle in her body, and she had one agonizing headache. She never has to push herself that far in training with Lonnie, but a fight for her life was anything but a simple sparring match. Every step felt like knives being pressed into her skin, but she kept trudging on.

“Just get to the bridge.” She muttered to herself, dragging her feet from behind. If she could get to Auradon by morning, maybe she would be able to get to the dorms before Evie woke up and her little ‘adventure’ would be a distant memory.

Following some old signs to the Pier, Aaliyah found herself back where she had started earlier that day, yet something was missing.

“No, no, no.” Her soft cries grew into screams as she frantically searched for her bike she had left behind. Her plan to lock and hide it behind the dumpster has ultimately been foiled by someone pathetic thieves.

“Fuck.” There was no way she was getting home to Auradon anytime soon.

Being on lookout was one of the most annoying jobs for Harry. It wasn’t exciting or thrilling at all. Not like training where Harry was at his prime. Using his sword to fight off Gil, or terrorizing the new recruits that dared to come on the ship that day was the highlight of his day. But now, he was slugging across the Isle, just looking for trouble.

However, his focus wasn't on the job today, but a girl. Harry couldn't even help but drift his thoughts back to the stranger he had met the night before. No, not a stranger. Lia. He recalled every moment of her slicing at dangerous pirates with ease, and the way she looked at him when he stood close to her. His heart had never beaten so fast. He kept his confident facade on for her, but inside he was melting. She pulled him in, and didn’t know why.

He had stayed up all night, staring down the double doors of the Fish and Chip shop, anxiously waiting for her to step in. Imagining all the things he would say to her, the angry look in her eyes when she tried to fight him for her necklace back. He wanted that so badly, but had no idea why. It wasn't until Gil woke him from his unexpected slumber on one of the dining tables the next morning that he realized she was a no show.

He expected himself to be upset, angry even. How could his plan to lure her in not have worked? Maybe she had outsmarted him somehow and was planning her revenge. Either way, Harry was even more curious now.

Uma, however, was less than pleased. The word of another stranger roaming the Isle made her feel exposed, which was probably why she had sent Harry on lookout duty. He had shown Uma the necklace he had stolen from earlier, but she wasn’t merely as impressed. She took the locket for ‘safe keeping’, she told Harry. He didn’t mind though, the more he looked at it, the more he got lost in his thoughts and he didn't need the distraction.

And now here he was, stuck on the main pier of the Isle, staring at the grimy black water that surrounded them. The Isle was nothing spectacular, it was barely a home. It as a prison. It was no secret that everyone wanted off the Isle, even him.

Across that murky water was Auradon, the most beautiful place on Earth. At least, in comparison to the Isle.  Stories had been told about the beauty of Auradon. As a boy, Harry and his friends would pretend they could cross the bridge and live like true princes and princesses. But as years passed, he knew that dream would stay just a dream.

As he walked, Harry stumbled to the side, tripping over what he thought was a log on the sandy beach. He looked down to see a person, curled into a tiny ball. “Aye!” He shouted, moving to kick the still figure before quickly stopping himself. It wasn’t just any person, it was her.

“Lia?” Harry kneeled down to her sleeping body, softly tugging on the hem of her shirt. She shifted slightly under the newspapers that were covering her like a blanket. The Isle was freezing at night, and she was barely covered. Harry noticed her shoes and the cuffs of her jeans were soaked in mucky sea water, the crashing waves from under the pier must have hit her through the night.

“I don’t have any money,” She muttered in a sleepy tone, rolling over and turning her back to Harry. “Go away.”

Harry smiled to himself, tapping her sleeping body again, this time waking her.

Her body shifted again, this time sitting up from her slumber. She rubbed her sand covered face, her sleepy eyes meeting with Harry's. Her sand coated hair fell onto her shoulders, a knotted mess from her rough night. She was fairly pale from what Harry deduce as a lack of food and a proper sleep.

“Harry.” Her deadpan voiced brought the pirate back from his daze. She knew his name. “What do you want?”

“Lovely to see you as well, lass.” He mimicked her actions, standing up from the sandy beach. Harry’s eyes followed her as she stood from the dusty ground. The sight of her attempting to comb through her knotted mane with her fingers made Harry smile. How could one who has slept on the ground all night still look so astonishing? He pushed away the thought away with a shake of his head, feeling a bit dumbfounded by it.

“I’m disappointed you missed our date last night. You know it's rude to ignore an invitation.”

She brushed off her dirt covered clothes, responding to Harry with an attitude. “I don’t usually date guys who hold me captive.”

“From what I recall darling,” Harry said playfully, tapping her cheek lightly. “I saved you.”

She rolled her eyes, walking away from the pirate. She didn't seem to have any certain direction, just wanting to get away. Though Harry wasn’t going to let her go that easily. Quickly chasing after the mysterious girl, he rushed to her side, following in her quick stride.

It was strange to see someone so resistant to Harry's charm. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been able to allure women and men with it, but not her. He liked a challenge though, and she seemed to be one.  

“Why are you resting here?” Harry questioned, motioning to her temporary living space. “Surely the Doctor would find you something, eh?”

“I’m a big girl.” She growled, making Harry jump with delight.  “I can take care of myself.”

“I see.” Harry nodded, keeping in step with her quick stride. “So, where are you staying tonight?”

Her face folded as she tried to think of an answer, but Harry could tell.

“I'll just find another place to crash.” She seemed unsure about herself, but gave off a confident presence. “I'll stay at the Inn.”

Harry’s grin had formed into a frown at the mention of the Inn. It was a known spot for Sylvester’s crew, and if they attacked her once, they’d do it again. Harry's enraged instincts got the best of him as he stepped in front of Lia, stopping her in her tracks.

“No.” He grabbed the wrist of her sleeve, pulling her back into his chest. Her eyes gazing deeply into his made him almost speechless. He didn’t know why he had grabbed her, it was instinct. She was the first girl to ever make him nervous. Not even Uma made him feel this way.

“I mean, stay here.” He breathed, surprising himself with his force. “With me.”

He watched as her eyes widen, slowly processing this suggestion.

“No, thanks.” She scoffed, pulling her hand back from his grasp. “I'll take my chances at the Inn.”

Stubborn. He needed something to get her out of it. “Well, how do you plan to pay for your night with no money?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but soon realized her predicament. “I don't know...”

“Then, I don't believe you have much a choice, love.” He pointed to her soaked shoes and messy clothes.

She sighed, succumbed to his suggestion. “So where do you live?”

Harry’s quarters weren’t anything more than Aaliyah had expected. The room was small, grimy and old. It was barely a room, honestly. With only one porthole window that looked out into the horizon, a claustrophobic feeling was inescapable.

It was fairly empty, only a small bed, desk and a few of his belongings. His closet had some fairly ripped shirts and pants and a couple damaged swords from over the years. The dry smell of ship water and rotting fish had filled the room, making it harder to breathe. Aaliyah coughed at the feeling of dust filling her lungs as she stepped in the room.

“You would think the Captain’s donkey would have a better place to live than this.” Aaliyah quipped at Harry before entering the small barracks.

“I’m sorry the room isn’t up to your glorious standards.” Harry mocked, rolling his eyes as he pushed her further along into the room. “The cleaning lady missed her appointment last week.”

Aaliyah folded her arms against her chest, leaning her body against the splintered door frame. She watched as Harry walked around the room, placing his hook on a small broken desk. From the wear and tear of the place, it seemed he had been living in such a hovel for years now.

“So, am I to make myself at home?”

Harry grinned at her sarcasm, nodding his head. “This is home now.”

She frowned, her thoughts flashing back to her dorm in Auradon. “Well, I don't intend to stay long.”

“That's disappointing, darling.” Harry said with a familiar grin. “We were just getting acquainted.” He added, pulling off his large pirate coat and placing it in his closet, exposing his war torn skin.

Aaliyah’s eyes trailed on the injured pirates body. His thin white t-shirt could barely cover the scars that encased his bare skin. Mangled lines of inflamed and bruised skin traced the lines on his skin. Some cuts looked fresh, dried blood stains still brushing the surface. Other had history, or so she assumed. A large brown scar traced from the top of Harry’s shoulder to his lower hip, skeptically forming the shape of a hook. It was too deep for him to have done to himself, it had to have been someone else.

But what caught her eye was the tattooed map that covered his entire back. The map stretched across almost the entire world, or at least what had been discovered. She noticed small checks and X marks that she assumed marked sunken treasure. It was beautiful, stretching farther than anything the Isle and Auradon had ever seen.

“I could give you a picture if you want to keep staring, lass.” Harry spoke as he turned around, interrupting the silence. Aaliyah’s face flushed, turning her face away from his boasting smile.

“What’s the map for?” Aaliyah asked, trying to avoid further embarrassment. She watched carefully as Harry’s face fell. His childish grin had disappeared and was replaced with somber grimace. She could tell he was in deep thought as his gaze left hers, staring down at the creaky floorboards.

“It was my father’s.” Harry muttered, shoving his swords aside in frustration. “It was supposed to be his big score. Millions in gold pieces.”

“Ok, then where is it?”

“I don’t know. He never returned.” Harry sat down on his small bed frame, his arms resting comfortably in his lap. He was biting at his cheek nervously. He tried to hide the pain, but wasn't doing a very good job at it. She could tell he was recalling whatever memory over in his mind.

Slowly, she made her way over to him, placing herself beside his stiff figure on the bed. “What happened?”

“It was a trip gone bad. He had gone on so many others like it, but the storms were unforgiving that night.” Harry’s hands had clenched into a fist, his body softly shaking in pain.

“I was only a lad when he left. My mother had left years ago, it was just him and I. I told him, begged him not to go, but all he cared about was the damned treasure. It was supposed to set him for life. He was only supposed to be gone for two weeks, but no one has heard from him since.” His confident demeanor was far gone now, and an innocence had overtaken. Aaliyah felt she were talking to the small child Harry had described sadly sitting on the pier, waiting for his father to come home.

“Harry,” Aaliyah spoke soft enough for just him to hear. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, feeling his pain. “I’m so sorry.”

“Aye, I don’t need your pity, lassie.” He grunted, pushing her hand off his shoulder. She noticed the flush in his cheeks, and the redness in his eyes. “You asked. I answered.”

“Fine.” Aaliyah huffed, stepping away from the enraged pirate. The two stayed silent for a while. Aaliyah couldn’t tell if Harry was truly mad or just embarrassed by his vulnerability. It made sense to Aaliyah though. She felt strangely comfortable with the pirate, even with his hook to her throat. She felt safe.

Harry spoke first. “Where are you headed to in such a rush?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Nowhere certain.” A damn lie.

He nodded, seemingly skeptical. “That's too bad. The Isle would enjoy someone like you.”

“I'm surprised you would leave without your necklace, though.” Harry added. Aaliyah's hand traced up to her neck, feeling the empty spot that previously carried her locket. She had completely forgotten about it.

“Oh,” she paused. “Well, I could always come back for it.”

“Ah, so you wish to visit me again?”Harry said with a grin. Aaliyah rolled her eyes, shoving the pirate in the shoulder playfully.

“Only for the necklace.” She said sternly as Harry laughed, smiling at her.

“So,” Aaliyah started, clearing the strange tension in the air. “Where am I supposed to sleep?”

Harry patted softly on the creaky bed beneath him. “Right here, darling.”

“Oh no,” Aaliyah shook her head vigorously. “I'm not sleeping with you.”

“Well, I hadn’t asked but..” Harry’s eyes wandered up and down her figure before letting out a hearty laugh. Aaliyah crossed her legs in embarrassment.

“Gross.” She muttered, placing her hands on her hips.

“Aye, there’s always the ground, princess.” Harry joked, motioning toward the infested ship floor. Aaliyah could see the small bugs crawling in and out of the floorboards, and the dried blood stains that she wanted to avoid thinking about.

“God, I hate this.” Aaliyah sighed, quickly climbing into the twin bed, ducking under the thin sheet. Her back was pressed against the chipping wooden boards behind her. She could feel the soft push of the ocean waves against the  deck, slowly rocking her back and forth. It was soothing.

Harry fumbled around the room for a few more minutes, awkwardly adjusting clothes and miscellaneous objects in the room. It was obvious he was avoiding going to bed, which made Aaliyah laugh inside.

“Either get in the bed, or stop making noise. I’m trying to sleep.” Aaliyah said roughly, attempting to get comfortable on the worn bed.

Aaliyah heard a soft chuckle come from Harry before feeling the springy mattress move slightly, with Harry resting beside her.

He had turned his body to face Aaliyah, their noses barely brushed against each other in the small bed. He grinned as Aaliyah rolled her eyes, stuck staring at his charming face face.

She felt a flutter in her stomach for the first time she had been with Harry. Being so close, and intimate, she couldn’t help but admire everything about him. His chiseled body was pressed against hers, barely any room to move or breathe, but she didn’t mind. The urge to run her fingers through his luscious brown locks was almost overwhelming, she had to distract herself.

“So why don’t you wear an eye patch?” Aaliyah joked, breaking their silence. His eyes squinted at her in confusion for a mere second, before he chuckled giving her a grin.

“You’re an interesting las, Lia.” His smile was as radiant as before, but now more genuine. He wasn’t smiling for himself, rather for her. She smiled back at him, she couldn’t help it.

Her heart began to flutter as she felt the soft brush of Harry’s fingertips on her hands. His hands trailed her skin softly, like he was inspecting her. It seemed so natural though, as if he didn't even know he was doing it. Every touch left an electric feeling on her skin and made her want more.

“For a villain's daughter, you’re very proper, eh?” He raised an eyebrow at her. It was more of a question than a comment. Aaliyah had almost forgotten about her incredulous lie. It’s what got her stuck in this tiny bed in the first place.

“My father likes to be clean, even if he is a villain.” Aaliyah replied, another lie adding onto her list.

Harry nodded, his fingers still trailing up and down her sides. She didn’t mind it though, it was comforting, like home.He seemed to be lost in his touch, his eyes now shut, just following the rhythm of her skin.

“Harry?” Aaliyah said softly. He merely hummed in response, clearly drifting into sleep. Aaliyah brushed the soft brown curls out of his face instinctively. His face shuddered at the first touch, mostly in surprise. The touch became comforting after a while, she watched as he sunk into it.

“Yes, darling?” His voice was low and hoarse, drifting in and out of sleep.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For taking me in.”

Harry was silent. His eyes still shut and his fingers continued to dance across Aaliyah’s skin so melodically, it felt as if he were playing a beautiful lullaby. She watched a smile grow on his face.

“Promise me something.” He said quietly, only the sound of their soft breathing could be heard over the rushing waves beneath them.

Aaliyah hesitated, a bit surprised. “I guess.”

A long pause stood between them before Harry opened his piercing blue eyes to look back at her. “Don’t leave yet.”

A/n : It’s a little slow, i know. But I hope you liked it! And feedback always helps! I’m not sure if i should continue this, lemme know. c:

Taglist : @lyssafarnzie @tahreemhaq576 @booktvmoviefangirl @ronijdubb @emilielskov @bellisis @candyapplegirl @sorryyoureoutofmyleague @ilikechocolatemilkh @green-spotlight@asexualmarauder @ninquellote @spiderlingh @catcherintheclifford @thejourneyofabrokenheart@krazykat16 @callme-crowley @nitakali @badassbeckettswan @theladiesofliterature@princess7184 @magicandmystery @bellmorely @fandomrelative @lovepizza-cake11@myfavoriteimaginesblog @little-miss-quicksilver @tfandom101 @happytrekkieworld@dizzymemories77 @maddiiieeee1 @travelnottogoanywherebuttogo @heyya352 @frozenhuntress67@rebloggedimagines @youdrathetwatchatvshow @broadwaylover24601 @fulltime-fandomwriter @brittymolly @annabelle5724 @hufflepuffle97 @gucci-zjm

[lapinchatain]

Anonymous sequel chapter 10

Jacob found himself standing on a beach. A golden full moon above his head cast its gold-silver light all over the surface of the sea, a city shimmering in the distance, muffled sound of wind and broken fragments of meandering conversations in the air, as if in a Dadaist film. He could feel his heart pumping hard in his chest, like a trapped bird. He wanted to shout out the name of his sister and father loud, but couldn’t make any sound no matter how hard he tried. How old he was? This question suddenly struck him. Would there be anyone looking for a twelve years old child lost on a beach between reality and illusion?

“Jacob!”

Someone was calling his name. Startled, he suddenly saw Evie lying on the beach staring at him, her semi-transparent white cotton dress drenched by the seawater, a hollow look on her face, like a corpse. His heart twitched violently, reaching his hand out trying to touch her-

“Jacob!”

His jerked and finally woke up. It was strange enough to fall asleep on such a short trip from London to Crawley, probably because he’s been staying up too much as of late. A cousin of Aleck came to visit him from Leeds, drinking and chatting with them in their apartment until two or three o’clock in the morning these days. He used to go to classes without even getting changed after a night-long revelry back in university, but now he too had to succumb to time’s ruthless passage like everyone else. What was that Father used to say? “Time takes its toll on all of us.” Or once all the years started coming they were just never going to stop. Time never stopped, only people did. Just like Father himself.

“Are you alright? We’ll arrive in ten minutes.”

Evie was sitting in front of him in the train, a worried look on her face. He knew he must be looking terrible right now. She held a novel of Édouard Louis in her hands, a carefully prepared chicken breast integral sandwich on the desk (“Forget about your ham sandwich”, she told him laconically the day before departure, “Too much sodium.”). Usually Jacob wouldn’t see her as his sister. They were as much close as distant, a bizarre relationship difficult to be categorized by a single word or concept (or “social construct”, as Evie would say. Yeah, she was the more cultured twin). Only when they visited their father’s grave together on his anniversaries or on Christmas would he notice the fact that Evie was indeed his sister.

They treated their father’s anniversaries with much solemnity in the first years following his death. Not that they’d talk openly about Father, but were rather concentrated on all the details of the event to an exaggerating and over-stressing degree, especially Evie. Like the species and color of the flowers, who’d buy the train tickets, whether to arrive in the morning or afternoon, in which restaurant to have dinner with George, who would cook what dishes, where to have afternoon tea, who’d do the cleaning at the house, probably not so much for anything else as for diverting their attention. The house was kept empty after Father passed away, George occasionally taking care of the garden, probably out of the pity that such a sophisticated little treasure would fall into disrepair due to neglect and oblivion. They never talked about what to do with the house.

“Maybe I could use a good sleep,” Jacob murmured, grabbing the bottle of water on the desk and taking a large swig. Evie nodded, a hardly perceivable slight movement, lowering her head again and resuming her reading. Right, only in moments like this when there was a tacit understanding and a homely familiarity between them did he feel like they were indeed family.  He turned his head to watch the fast-passing scene outside the window, realizing that strangely the memories didn’t just spring to his mind as expected. But they would never die either, just locked down in a dark and deep corner of his heart.

“White Carnation and Hydrangea, how lovely, isn’t it? Lilies are beautiful too. Simple and classic, don’t you think?”

The tone of the lady at the flower shop was gentle and brisk, as if she was recommending flowers for a wedding and not for a death anniversary. Jacob stood by the door and saw Evie talking to her with a smile on her face. What were they talking about? The weather? Jacob didn’t feel like acting normal in these circumstances. Evie pushed the door and stepped outside, a bouquet of white lilies in her hands, nodding at him.

“Are you ready?”

“As if I was about to lose my virginity,” He mumbled and shrugged his shoulders on seeing the look on Evie’s face, “Can’t even take a joke.” Actually his first time took place under a rather chaotic, awkward and utterly unromantic circumstance, the morning after a night-long home party that got out of hand when he woke up on the sofa and found Janet next to him awake as well (though barely conscious, given how much drug they had taken the night before) unlike everyone else in the room, who seemed to have collectively fallen into a vegetative coma instead of simply being asleep. Jacob often wondered why nobody he knew actually died of overdose. She was probably one or two years older than the boys, never seen without her bright red finger nail polish, heavy eye make-up and fish-net stocking, always taking desperate drags on her cigarettes at the door the city’s notorious nightclubs, a mature and mysterious grown-up woman in the eyes of the fourteen years old that they were, who could get them alcohol and cigarettes from students of senior years, though she was barely sixteen years old at the time, with a non-existent father and a mother who lived on wages from several jobs that left her neither the time nor the interest to care for her in any way. Jacob couldn’t help but to wonder where she might be and what she might be doing now. Dead, probably. It seemed to him that all the people he knew before had suddenly disappeared from the surface of the planet in the last few years. “Just like everyone ends up sleeping with everyone else, everyone ends up losing contact with everyone else, eventually.” Pearl Attaway said once, leaned against the headboard and shrugging her shoulders, lighting up a cigarette in her room in a nonchalant manner.  She was the key account manager of their supplier, senior to him by over a decade, an extremely elegant, sophisticated and uncanny woman who apparently enjoyed twisting people around her little finger. She would probably have stolen the contact list of their clients from his computer if he didn’t caught her in the act in time. “You’ve been lucky this time,” Jacob’s boss told him with a scowl on his face before telling him to get out of his office. Her champagne was excellent though. Her apartment in London had a nice decor as well, as suspicious as herself. That’s right, all the girlfriends in middle school, Maxwell Roth back in university, and Pearl Attaway. Everyone eventually lost contact with everyone else.

But he knew where he could go back to.

“Do you want to have tea later at L’obrador? I want some carrot cake.”

Evie said suddenly. He lifted his head, as if surprised to find her there standing next to him. He wanted to hug her, hold her hands, tell her how much he loved her, how afraid he was that she’d leave him like everyone else (actively or passively, no one could do anything about it anyway, not that he cared), and how much he wanted her to always be by his side, though she’d probably frown and tell him to stop his sentimental nonsense with her usual impatient and tetchy air.

He nodded, his mouth dry.

“Let’s go.”

***

Evie took a deep breath and took out a little brown bottle from her bag, spraying a bit of coconut perfume on her bed, its familiar, sweet and soothing fragrance starting to fill her room. Father used to keep her room tidy and clean after she left home for university, as if she had never left, and now, she had to come back for a weekend and clean the whole house every several months to make it feel less bleak and solitary. She wasn’t sure if it was a futile attempt at preserving the long-gone past.

“I’ll cook tonight,” Jacob said to her in an unexpected way when they were having tea. They had been to their parents’ grave earlier this afternoon, a ritual completed in a strange kind of silence and precipitation, as they both felt it necessary to maintain the formality of a proper ritual, but couldn’t help sensing how hollow it was. Evie suddenly took Jacob’s hand when they walked out of the green grassy graveyard’s gate, and he seemed to be somehow moved by this gesture, tightening his fingers on hers.

“No lasagna, thanks. A salad would do.”

“Roasted turkey? With nuts and seeds?”

“Yes.”

“Ok,” Jacob paused for a moment. “George said we can have lunch tomorrow.”

They drove to the hypermarket and Jacob got some tools to fix the faucet in the bathroom in a hardware store on the way, their minds wandering on their own in a slightly awkward and distant silence. Evie tried to get Father out of her mind, dismissing any idea that started with “what if…” immediately, as if she could get scalded by it.

“Are you alright?”

Jacob finally turned his head around to look at her in front of a red light. He looked somehow tired, maybe that’s why he fell asleep on the train back home.

“Henry has offered to come to visit Father with me.” She said after some hesitation.

“But?”

“I told him it’s personal.”

The green light was on. Jacob started the car, without saying a word.

Evie stood up slowly, putting the bottle of her coconut perfume on the night stand table. She took a look at her watch, it was already one o’clock in the morning. She got changed into her white cotton dress and matching long cardigan, bare foot, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror as she passed by, her face pale, hair disheveled, like a ghost of her younger self. She turned off the light and closed the door gently, walked up to Jacob’s room on the other side of the doorway and knocked his door.

“Can I come in?”

No reply. A few seconds later, the door swung open. Jacob seemed to have just got up from his bed, standing behind the door in his T-shirt and shorts, watching her silently, half-submerged in the darkness of his room with only some dim light from the window in the background. She didn’t say anything, just walked over to him and held him tightly, his familiar scent filling her mind. He held her back immediately in response, as if he’d been expecting this moment.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He murmured to her ear. Evie shook her head and let go of him, heading directly towards his bed and getting under the covers, curling herself up. He followed her and got into bed as well, holding her in his arms and letting her put her head against the crook of his neck. She let out a long sigh at the touch of the reassuring warmth of his body.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about one thing.” Jacob said after a long silence. “How do you face the death? I mean in the hospital.” Strange, it seemed that he had never asked that question to Father, Evie thought.

“It was hard at the beginning. But got better once you learned the trick.”

“What trick?”

“To see people as statistic figures.”

Jacob laughed, but Evie knew it wasn’t because he found it funny.

“So I’m not the only one surviving in a soulless system.” Evie used to say sardonically that business school graduates were just a bunch of soulless opportunists, and he’d counter that everybody was selling their soul, just in different ways. “Including doctors?” Evie retorted sharply. “Especially the doctors.” Jacob said firmly, uncharacteristically condemnatory.

“Do you remember the double layer bed at Grandmother’s home?” Jacob said suddenly. After they moved in with Father, they shared the same bedroom until fourteen years old, a fact laughed at by all of Jacob’s friends at the time. “Gross, you sleep in the same room as your sister!” They would say. Evie had never commented on that matter.

“Don’t be such a cliché, bringing up the past on every anniversary.”

“Don’t be so defensive.”

“I’m not.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.”

His arms tightened on her body.

“New fragrance?”

“I’ve been buying the same perfume of the same brand in the past ten years, Jacob.”

“Ok, it smells good. Take the compliment.”

“Or you can stop changing the subject.”

Jacob let out a short laugh, she could feel his warm breath by her ear. “I asked you if you want to talk about it.”

“Never mind.”

They fell into silence. Evie could hear his heartbeat in his chest, firm, powerful and steady. Would he become a statistic figure one day as well? Her brother, who held her hand tightly in the dark doorway of the night, who waited for her after school in the crowds at the gate every day, following her onto the bus like a little dog and falling asleep on her shoulder on their way back home, his long glossy brown eyelashes fluttering like little butterflies, who listened to techno music all the time in middle school, who would intertwine his fingers with hers and kiss her watery eye corners in the bed, whose eyes were like gleaming green lakewater under the sunshine and a shimmering light chestnut in the dark, who would narrow his eyes slightly when he laughed, who’d do anything to make her laugh when she felt down but anything to annoy her in her normal mood, who always wore the same old Snoopy dog T-shirt when coming out of the bathroom, her brother who loved orange juice and The Terminators, who hated coffee and the blazer of their high school uniform. Her brother, who would turn into decaying bones under six feet one day, a name and two dates on the gravestone, like their long-gone father lost in the nothingness and oblivion. “Eram quod es, eris quod sum”, “As you are now, so once was I, as I am now, so you must be”, Evie had taken Latin in middle shool and she had always remembered this aphorism. She was suddenly clutched by a mad urge to cry, though apparently it had nothing to do with Father anymore. Jacob seemed to have sensed her mood, pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead. His hug was warm and familiar, like a lighthouse in the endless waves of darkness, casting a gentle and lonely light across the bottomless abyss of the ocean.

He didn’t let go of her for the whole night.