The Light That Burned Twice As Bright

She Opened Her Mouth To Answer, But He Was Already Kissing Her. She Had Kissed Him So Many Times—soft Gentle Kisses, Hard And Desperate Ones, Brief Brushes Of The Lips That Said Good-bye, And Kisses That Seemed To Go On For Hours—and This Was No Different. The Way The Memory Of Someone Who Had Once Lived In A House Might Linger Even After They Were Gone, Like A Sort Of Psychic Imprint, Her Body Remembered Jace. Remembered The Way He Tasted, The Slant Of His Mouth Over Hers, His Scars Under Her Fingers, The Shape Of His Body Under Her Hands.

Not Everyone Wants You All The Time, Jace," He Said. "don't Be Ridiculous.

If I Might Ask--," She Began. Will Sighed. "you Know You'll Ask Whether I Say It's All Right Or Not.

For A Moment Clary Thought She Might Fall; She Felt As If Something Essential Had Been Torn Away From Her, An Arm Or A Leg, And She Stared At Jace In Blank Astonishment-- What Did He Feel, Did He Feel Nothing? She Didn't Think She Could Bear It If He Felt Nothing.

You Think She’ll Be Able To Talk Sense Into Him?” She Asked. “his Sister?” "if He Listens To Anyone, It Would Be Her.” “that’s Sweet,” Said Maia. “that He Loves His Sister Like That.” “yeah,” Simon Said. “it’s Precious