Showing posts with label City of Bones. Show all posts
Showing posts with label City of Bones. Show all posts

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Represent the MORTAL INSTRUMENTS and INFERNAL DEVICES Fandom by Voting in The Book Shimmy Awards

Epic Reads is hosting their annual Book Shimmy Awards! Brace yourselves because there is a lot of competition out there; try not have a break down while trying to vote for a book.

Of course, Clockwork Princess and City of Bones are included in this years round of nominees. In fact, Clockwork Princess is included in 3 different categories: Couple of the Year Award (Will and Tessa), The Pagemaster, and the Best of Shelves. While, City of Bones is included in 2 categories: Best Book Fandom, and Best YA-Adapted Movie or TV Show.

To help out with the voting, join us and other fansites for a twitter trending of #VoteShadowhunter on:
Monday (Dec 16), Wednesday (Dec 18), and Friday (Dec20) at 5pm EST

Saturday, July 20, 2013

'THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS' 4th Week at #1 on New York Times Best Sellers Series

The Mortal Instruments series has been on the New York Times Best Sellers (Series) for 95 weeks. Including next week: 96! On top of that, The Mortal Instruments is still #1 on the list; that's four weeks straight that The Mortal Instruments has been #1!

Major congratulations for Cassandra Clare are in need. Let's keep the streak going!

Friday, July 12, 2013

Cassandra Clare Talks About the Controversy in Clary and Jace's Storyline and other 'CITY OF BONES' Movie Questions

MSN UK sits down with Cassandra Clare to talk about random Mortal Instruments questions. They discuss the City of Bones movie process and other stuff like "would you rather be, a Shadowhunter or a downworlder?"
The Clary/Jace storyline in the books is quite controversial – were you worried about how this would translate on screen?Is it controversial? I think the end of the first book is a shocker but certainly by the third or so there's nothing particularly controversial there. Which I think is not unusual in a love story: they usually have obstacles and sometimes the obstacles can skate the edge of taboo because the love needs to be forbidden - there's a teacher/student romance in Divergent and Vampire Academy, Katniss is supposed to kill Peeta, Edward wants to eat Bella - I think by now audiences are pretty used to the idea of an insuperable obstacle to a love story.
Which would you rather be, a Shadow Hunter or an Downworlder?A Downworlder. They can kind of lay low and have somewhat normal lives, in certain cases. I’d last about half a second as a demon-killing soldier! I'd probably want to be a warlock, because then you can live forever without drinking blood. I don't think I'd like blood.
What can fans of the books expect from the movie?I haven’t seen the finished product, but they can expect to see a movie that takes the fictional world we love and makes it real, and gorgeous! The film won’t be exactly the same as the book, because film works very differently as a medium than the written word does, but I think it will be a lot of fun. I also think the actors are perfect for their roles, and that they will really win readers' hearts.
Read the full interview over at MSN UK.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Bid on SonyRewards' MORTAL INSTRUMENTS Movie Fan Pack

Sony has created an action where you can bid on:
• Paperback copy of The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones book, signed by the author, Cassandra Clare
• The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones Movie Poster, which showcases both New York City and the hidden City of Bones, two separate worlds on a collision course with each other
• 4-pack of movie tickets good at Regal or AMC Theaters
• $50 restaurant gift card for your choice of Applebees, Chili's, Macaroni Grill, On The Border, Maggiano's, or T.G.I. Friday's
The auction ends July, 5th. Go check it out on SonyRewards.

Thursday, May 30, 2013

Collection of Pictures and Details from the 'Mortal Instruments' Party at BEA

Cassandra Clare has shared her costume for the #TMIparty at Book Expo America today (May, 30th).
Now, for the actually party, we've gathered some pictures from different guests:

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Cassandra Clare Talks to The Mash about Favourite 'City of Bones' Movie and Book Scenes

The Mash interviews Cassandra Clare over the phone. Cassandra Clare explains that her favourite part of the book is having a layer magical hidden under the normal and ordinary New York life. However, her favourite part of the movie would be Magnus's party -where she is a cat-like demon.
When writing “City of Bones,” which chapter had you most captivated?It was the idea of bringing this sort of magical New York to life. The idea that, here’s this city and we all know it and we walk the streets every day and we see the same stores and the same taxis and the same people, and it’s all so normal. But then, underneath it, there’s this layer of magic. … You just scrape away at it a little bit and you see it. And that’s something that I love.
Who was the first character you developed in the story?It was Clary. I mean, it was always the idea of writing this journey of a hero, a coming of age story about a girl. There’s so many (stories) about boys. I love “Harry Potter” and “Percy Jackson,” but I really wanted to read one about a girl who came of age and answers the same questions about who am I and how do I become an adult, how do I become a good person and how do I become a woman?

Friday, May 17, 2013

First Look at Trends International's Poster Pre-pack and Collectors Beaded Book Mark

Trends International realeased a preview of the City of Bones book poster. Now, they've released the Collectors Beaded Book Mark and the Poster Pre-pack.
Size: 1.5625 x 0.2 x 5.875
Available in: US and Canada

Saturday, May 11, 2013

300 000 Copies of 'The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones' Distributed at the Cinema

We've spotted The Mortal Instruments: City of Bones being distributed before movies like Beautiful Creatures, The Host, etc. According to Martin Moskowicz, these preview books are going international! They've printed 300 thousand City of Bones books containing the first 40 pages.

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

'City of Bones' Book Cover Poster from Trends International

Now there's another way to show your love for The Mortal InstrumentsTrends International has the book cover poster for City of Bones.

Details about the product:
Territory: US/CN
Language: Trilingual
Size: 22" x 34"
UPC: 017681021644

No exact date to when this poster will be available, but stay tuned!

Will you get this poster, or will you wait until all the posters are revealed?

Friday, April 5, 2013

Cassandra Clare Appearing at BEA and Signing 'City of Bones' the Movie Tie-in Edition

BEA (Book Expo America) takes place in Javits Center, New York
Autographing Area is Open: Thursday, May 30, 9:30 am - 5:00 pm, Friday, May 31, 9:30 am - 5:00 pm, and Saturday, June 1, 9:30 am - 4:00 pm. With close to 500 authors signing in the Autographing Area, you can be sure that you will meet (and possibly get a photo with) one of your favorites! The final autographing schedule will be posted in late April so please check back so you can plan your visit to BEA accordingly.
In addition to the authors who appear in the Autographing Area, many more authors can be found signing in their publisher's booth. These are called "in booth" autographing sessions and will take place throughout the 3 day show. A schedule for "in booth" signings will be posted on our Web site in late April and the schedule can also be picked up at BEA.
Check it out, Cassandra Clare will be attending, plus she will be signing City of Bones: the movie tie-in edition (which you can pre-order on for $7.79 (USD)

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

While at WonderCon, Cassandra Clare Talks About 'City of Bones' Casting, Last Book...

Collider released their interview video with Jamie Campbell Bower (which you can watch here) just a couple of days ago. As a follow up, they interviewed Cassie too!
Collider: When you started receiving interest about turning your book into a film, were you immediately excited about it, or were you hesitant about the idea?
CASSANDRA CLARE: I was a little hesitant. I was excited about the idea, but I also was a little freaked out. I grew up in L.A. and I worked for The Hollywood Reporter. I knew enough about the business to know that the usual role of the author on a movie is to get out of the way and not say anything. So I thought, “How do I feel about turning this whole project over to people and letting them do what they want with it, not even knowing about it?” And then, Unique Features approached me – and that’s Bob Shaye and Michael Lynne, and they did The Lord of the Rings, which are my favorite movies in the world – and I thought, “Well, if I’m going to sell this to somebody, it should be the people who made my favorite movies.”

With so many young adult books being turned into movies, what would you say to people to get them to understand that this is a very different type of story with its own mythology?

Check it out: 'City of Bones: The Interactive Quiz Book' Avaliable on Amazon

Book description:
What is the name of the girl that blue haired demon boy follows inside the club?
What is the motto of the Shadowhunters?
What is the name of the Demon that possesses Madam Dorothea?
So you think YOU are the ultimate City of Bones fan? Have you read the book so much the pages are faded? Have you Googled every actor who will be in the upcoming movie? Are your goldfish called Clary and Jace?...If you answered yes to any of these questions, then this book is for you.
"eQuivia Books"™ are interactive quiz books that will test your knowledge Clary, Simon, Jace, Valentine, Luke, The Shadowhunters, The Silent Brothers, Madam Dorothea, and many other aspects of this best selling novel and upcoming movie.
Get your copy today to see how much you REALLY know about City of Bones.
The eBook is avaliable on for $3.74 (USD) or for $3.81 (CDN). This interactive quiz is written by Julia Reed.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Magnus's Vow

"All copies of the Clockwork Angel paperback are going to come with a short story in the back called "Magnus' Vow." It takes place during City of Bones and is from Magnus' viewpoint."-Cassandra Clare

Magnus Bane lay on the floor of his Brooklyn loft, looking up at the bare ceiling. The floor was slightly sticky, as was much else in the apartment. Spilled faery wine mixed with blood on the floor, running in rivulets across the splintery floorboards. The bar, which had been a door laid across two dented metal garbage cans, had gotten wrecked at some point during the night during a lively fight between a vampire and a Bat, one of the downtown werwolf pack. Magnus felt satisfied. It wasn't a good party unless something got broken.
Soft footsteps padded across the floor toward him and then something crawled onto his chest: something small, soft, and heavy. He looked up and found himself staring into a pair of golden-green eyes that matched his own. Chairman Meow.
He stroked the cat, who kneaded his claws happily into Magnus's shirt. A bit of Silly String fell from the ceiling and landed on both of them, causing Chairman Meow to leap sideway.
With a yawn, Magnus sat up. He usually felt like this after a party – tired but too wound up to sleep. His mind was humming over the events of the evening, but like a scratched CD, it kept coming back to the same point and spinning there, sending his memories into a whirl.
Those Shadowhunter children. He hadn't been surprised that Clarissa had finally tracked him down: he'd known Jocelyn's stopgap memory spells wouldn't work forever. He'd told her as buch, but she'd been determined to protect the girl as long as she could. Now that he'd met her, conscious and alert, he woundered if she'd really needed all that protecting. She was fiery, impulsive, brave – and lucky, like her mother.
That as if you believed in luck. But something mus have led her to the Shadowhunters of the institute, possibly the only ones who could protect her from Valentine. A pity that Maryse and Robert were gone. He'd dealt with Maryse more than once, but it had been years since he'd seen the younger generation.
He had a vague memory of visiting Maryse and Hodge, and there being two boys in the hallway, about eleven years old, battling back and forth with harmless model seraph blades. A girl with black hair in two braids had been watching them and vociferously complaining about not being included. He had taken very little note of them at the time.
But now- seeing them had shaken him, specially the boys, Jace and Alec. When you had so many memories, sometimes it was hard to identify the exact one you wanted, like flipping through a ten-thousand page book to find the correct paragraph.
This time, however, he knew.
He crawled across the splintery floor and knelt to open the closed door. Inside, he pushed aside clothes and various packets and potions, feeling along the walls for what he wanted. When he emerged, coughing on dust balls, he was dragging a decentsized wooden trunk . Thought he had lived a long time, he tendet to travel light: to keep a very few mementos of his past. He sensed somehow that they would weigh him down, keep spend only so much time looking back.
It had been so long since he'd unlocks the trunk, it came open with a squeal of hinges that sent Chairman Meow skittering under the sofa, his tail twitching.
The heap of objects inside the trunk looked like the hoard of an unfastidious dragon. Some objects gleamed with metal and gems- Magnus drew out an old snuffbox with the initiald WS picked out across the top in winking rubies, and grinned at the bad taste of the thing, and also at the memories it evoked.
Others seemed unremarkable: a faded, cream-colored silk ribbon that had been Camille's; a matchbook from the Cloud Club with the words I know what you are written on the inside cover in a lady's hand; a limerick signed OFOWW; a halfburned piece of stationery from Hong Kong Club- a place he had been barred from not for being a warlock, but for not being white. He touched a piece of twisted rope nearly at the bottom of the pile, and thought of his mother. She had been the daughter of a Dutch colonialist man and an Indonesian woman who had died in childbirth and whose name Magnus had never known.
He was almost at the bottom of the trunk when he found what he was looking for and drew it out, squinting: a black-and-withe paper photograph mounted on hard cardboard.
An object that really shouldn't have existed, and wouldn't if Henry had not been obsessed with photography. Magnus could picture him now, ducking in and out from benrath hos photographer's hood, racing with the wet plates to the darkroom he'd set up in the crypt to develop the film, shouting at his photographic subjects to keep still. Those were the days when in order to render motionless for minutes at a time. Not easy, Magnus thought, the corner of his mouth flicking up, for the crew of the London Institute.
There was Charlotte, her dark hair up in a practical bun. She was smiling, but anxiously, as if squiting into the sun. Beside her was Jessamine in a dress that looked black in the photo, but which Magnus knew had been dark blue. Her hair was curled and ribbons fell like streamers from the brim of her straw bonnet. She looked very pretty, but someone like Isabell: a girl her own age who loved shadowhunting, who showed off her bruises and the scars of her marks as if they were jewelry instead of hiding them with Mechlin lace.
On the other side of Charlotte stood Jem, looking like a photographic negative himself with his silvery hair and eyes turned almost white; his hand rested on his jade dragon-topped cane, and his face was turned toward Tessa's- Tessa- Tessa's hat was in her hand and her long brown curls blew free, slightly blurred by their motion.
There was a faint halo of light around Will: as befitted his nature and would have surprised no one who'd known him, he had not been able to stand still for the photograph. As always, he was hatless, his black hair curling against his temples. It was a loss not to be able to see the color of his eyes, but he was still beautiful and young and a little vulnerable-looking in photograph, with one hand in his pocket an the other behind his neck.
It had been so long since Magnus had looked at the photograph that the resemblance between Will and Jace struck him suddenly. Though it was Alec who had that black hair and those eyes- that very startling dark blue-it was Jace who had more of Will's personality. At least on the surface- The same sharp arrogance hiding something breakable underneath, the same pointed wit...
He traced the halo of light around Will with a finger and smiled. Will had been no angel, thought neither had been a flawed as some might have thought of him. When Magnus thought of Will, even now, he thought of him dripping rainwater on Camille's rug, beggin Magnus for help no one else could give him. It was Will who had introduced him to the idea that Shadowhunters and Downworlders might be friends.
Jem was Will's other, better half. He and Will had been parabatai, like Alec and Jace, and shared that same evident closeness. And though Alec struck Magnus as nothing at all like Jem- Alec was jumpy and sweet, sensitive and worried, while Jem had been calm, rarely bothered, older than his years-both of them were unusual where Shadowhunters were concerned. Alec exuded a bone-deep innocence that was rare among Shadowhunters-a quality that, Magnus had to admit, drew like a moth to a flame, despite all his own cynicism.
Magnus looked at Tessa again. Thought she was not conventionally pretty in the way Jessamine had been pretty, her face was alive with energy an intelligence. Her lips curved up at the corner. She stood, as Magnus supposed was appropriate, between Jem and Will. Tessa. Tessa, who like Magnus, lived forever. Magnus looked at the detritus in the box-memories of love past, some of whose faces stayed with him as clearly as the day he'd first seen them, and some whose name he berely remembered. Tessa, who like him, had loved a mortal, someone destined to die as she was not.
Magnus replaced the photograoh in the trunk. He shook his head, as if he could clear it of memories. There was a reason he rarely opened the trunk. Memories weighed him down, reminded him of what he had once had but did no longer. Jem, Will, Jessamin, Henry, Charlotte- in a way it was amazing that he still remembered their names. But then, knowing them had changed his life.
Knowing Will and his friends had made Magnus swear to himself that he would never again get involved in Shadowhunters' personal business. Because when you got to care about mortals, they broke your heart.
"And I won't," he told Chairman Meow solemnly, perhaps a little drunkenly. "I don't care how charming they are or how brave or even hoy helpless they seem, I will never ever ever-"
Downstairs, the doorbell buzzed, and Magnus got up to answer it.

Greenhouse Scene: Jace's PoV

Jace’s point of view of his first kiss with Clary

I kissed your lips and broke your heart

The Institute’s bell begins to toll, the deep loud heartbeat of the apex of the night.

Jace sets his knife down. It’s a neat little pocketknife, bone-handled, that Alec gave him when they became parabatai. He’s used it constantly and the grip is worn smooth from the pressure of his fingers.

“Midnight,” he says. He can feel Clary beside him, sitting back amongst the remains of their picnic, her breathing soft in the cool, leaf-smelling air of the greenhouse. He doesn’t look at her, but straight ahead, at the shining closed buds of the medianox plant. He isn’t sure why he doesn’t want to look at her. He remembers the first time he saw the flower bloom, during horticulture class, sitting on a stone bench with Alec and Izzy on either side of him, and Hodge’s fingers on the stem of the blossom — he had woken them up at nearly midnight to show them the marvel, a plant that normally grew only in Idris — and remembered his breath catching in the wintery midnight air, at the sight of something so surprising and so beautiful.

Alec and Isabelle at been interested but not, he remembers, caught by the beauty of it as he had been. He was worried even now, as the bells rang on, that Clary would be the same: interested or even pleased, but not enchanted. He wanted her to feel the way he had about the medianox, though he could not have said why.

A sound escapes her lips, a soft “Oh!” The flower is blooming: opening like the birth of a star, all shimmering pollen and white-gold petals. “Do they bloom every night?”

A wave of relief goes through him. Her green eyes are shining, fixed on it. She is flexing her fingers unconsciously, the way he has come to understand she does when she is wishing she had a pen or pencils to capture the image of something in front of her. Sometimes he wishes he could see as she did: see the world as a canvas to be captured in paint, chalks and watercolors. Sometimes when she looks at him that way he finds himself almost blushing; a feeling so strange he almost doesn’t recognize it. Jace Wayland doesn’t blush.

“Happy birthday, Clarissa Fray,” he says, and her mouth curves into a smile. “I have something for you.” He fumbles, a little, reaching into his pocket, though he doesn’t think she notices. When he presses the witchlight runestone into her hand, he is conscious of how small her fingers are under his — delicate but strong, callused from hours of holding pencils and paintbrushes. The calluses tickle his fingertips. He wonders if contact with his skin speeds her pulse the way his does when he touches hers.

Apparently not, because she draws away from him, her expression showing only curiosity. “You know, when most girls say they want a big rock, they don’t mean, you know, literally a big rock.”

He smiles without meaning to. Which is unusual in and of itself; usually only Alec or Isabelle can startle laughter out of him. He had known Clary was brave the first time he’d met her — walking into that room after Isabelle, unarmed and unprepared, took the kind of guts he didn’t associate with mundanes — but the fact that she made him laugh still surprised him. “Very amusing, my sarcastic friend. It’s not a rock, precisely. All Shadowhunters have a witchlight rune-stone. It will bring you light even among the darkest shadows of this world and others.”

They were the same words his father had spoken to him, upon giving him his first runestone. What other worlds? Jace had asked, and his father had only laughed.There are more worlds a breath away from this one than there are grains of sand on a beach.

She smiles at him and makes a joke about birthday presents, but he senses that she is touched; she slips the stone into her pocket carefully. The medianox flower is already shedding petals like a shower of stars, lighting her face with a soft illumination. “When I was twelve, I wanted a tattoo,” she says. A strand of red hair falls across her eyes; Jace fights the urge to reach out and push it back.

“Most Shadowhunters get their first Marks at twelve. It must have been in your blood.”

“Maybe. Although I doubt most Shadowhunters get a tattoo of Donatello from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles on their left shoulder.” She is smiling, in that way she does when she says things that are totally inexplicable to him, as if she is fondly remembering. It sends a jealous twinge sparking through his veins, though he isn’t even sure what he is jealous of. Simon, who understands her references to a mundane world Jace can never be a part of? The mundane world itself that she could one day return to, leaving him and his universe of demons and hunters, scars and battle, gratefully behind?

He clears his throat. “You wanted a turtle on your shoulder?”

She nods, and her hair falls back into place. “I wanted to cover my chicken pox scar.” She draws the strap of her tank top aside. “See?”

And he sees: there is some sort of mark on her shoulder, a scar, but he sees more than that: he sees the curve of her collarbone, the light dusting freckles on her skin like a dusting of gold, the downy curve of her shoulder, the pulse at the base of her throat. He sees the shape of her mouth, her lips slightly parted. Her coppery lashes as she lowers them. And he is swept through with a wave of desire, a kind he has never experienced before. He’s desired girls before, certainly, and satisfied that desire: he had always thought of it as hunger, a need for a sort of fuel that the body wanted.

He has never felt desire like this, a clean fire that burned away thought, that made his hands — not tremble, exactly, but thrum with nervous energy. He tears his eyes away from her, hastily. “It’s getting late,” he says. “We should go back downstairs.”

She looks at him, curiously, and he cannot help the feeling that those green eyes can see through him. “Have you and Isabelle ever dated?” she asks.

His heart is still pounding. He doesn’t quite understand the question. “Isabelle?” he echoes. Isabelle? What did Isabelle have to do with anything?

“Simon was wondering,” she says, and he hates the way she says Simon’s name. He has never felt anything like this before: anything that unnerved him like she does. He remembers coming to her in that alleyway behind the coffee shop, the way he had wanted to draw her outside, away from the dark-haired boy she was always with, into his world of shadows. He had felt even then that she belonged where he did, not to the mundane world where people weren’t real, where they passed just beyond his vision like puppets on a stage. But this girl, with her green eyes that pinned him like a butterfly, she was real. Like a voice heard in a dream, that you know comes from the waking world, she was real, piercing the distance he has set so carefully about himself like armor.

“The answer is no. I mean, there may have been a time when one or the other of us considered it, but she’s almost a sister to me. It would be strange.”

“You mean Isabelle and you never—”


“She hates me,” says Clary.

Despite everything, Jace almost laughs; like a brother might, he takes a certain delight in observing Izzy when she’s frustrated. “You just make her nervous, because she’s always been the only girl in a crowd of adoring boys, and now she isn’t anymore.”

“But she’s so beautiful.”

“So are you,” Jace says, automatically, and sees Clary’s expression change. He cannot read her face. It is hardly as if he has never told a girl she’s beautiful before, but he can’t remember a time it wasn’t calculated. That it was accidental. That it made him feel like going to the training room and throwing knives, and kicking and punching and fighting shadows until he was bloody and exhausted and if his skin was flayed open, it was only in the way he was used to.

She just looks at him, quietly. The training room it is, then.

“We should probably go downstairs,” he says again.

“All right.” He can’t tell what she’s thinking from her voice, either; his ability to read people seems to have deserted him and he doesn’t understand why. Moonlight spears down through the glass panes of the greenhouse as they make their way out, Clary slightly in front of him.

Something moves ahead of them — a white spark of light — and suddenly she stops short and half-turns to him, already in the circle of his arm, and she is warm and soft and delicate and he is kissing her.

And he is astonished. He doesn’t work like this; his body doesn’t do things without his permission. It is his instrument as much as the piano, and he has always been in perfect command of it. But she tastes sweet, like apples and copper, and her body in his arms is trembling. She is so small; his arms go around her, to steady her, and he is lost. He understands now why kisses in movies are filmed the way they are, with the camera endlessly circling, circling: the ground is unsteady under his feet and he clings to her, small as she is, as if she could hold him up.

His palms smooth down her back. He can feel her breathing against him; a gasp in between kisses. Her thin fingers are in his hair, on the back of his neck, tangling gently, and he remembers the medianox flower and the first time he saw it and thought: here is something too beautiful to properly belong in this world.

The rush of wind is audible to him first, trained as he is to hear it. He draws back from Clary and sees Hugo, perched in the crook of a nearby dwarf cypress. His arms are still around Clary, her weight light against him. Her eyes are half-closed. “Don’t panic, but we’ve got an audience,” he whispers to her. “If Hugo’s here, Hodge won’t be far behind. We should go.”

Her green eyes flutter all the way open, and she looks amused. It pricks his ego slightly. After that kiss, shouldn’t she be fainting at his feet? But she’s grinning. She wants to know if Hodge is spying on them. He reassures her, but he feels her soft laughter travel through their joined hands — how did that happen? — as they make their way downstairs.

And he understands. He understands why people hold hands: he’d always thought it was about possessiveness, saying This is mine. But it’s about maintaining contact. It is about speaking without words. It is about I want you with me and don’t go.

He wants her in his bedroom. And not in that way — no girl has ever been in his bedroom that way. It is his private space, his sanctuary. But he wants Clary there. He wants her to see him, the reality of him, not the image he shows the world. He wants to lie down on the bed with her and have her curl into him. He wants to hold her as she breathes softly through the night; to see her as no one else sees her: vulnerable and asleep. To see her and to be seen.

So when they reach her door, and she thanks him for the birthday picnic, he still doesn’t let go of her hand. “Are you going to sleep?”

She tilts her head up and he can see that her mouth bears the imprint of his kisses: a flush of pink, like the carnations in the greenhouse, and it knots his stomach. By the Angel, he thinks, I am so…

“Aren’t you tired?” she asks, breaking into his thoughts.

There is a hollow in the pit of his stomach, a nervous edginess. He wants to pull her back to himself, to pour into her everything he is feeling: his admiration, his new-born knowledge, his devotion, his need. “I’ve never been more awake.”

She lifts her chin, a quick unconscious movement, and he leans down, cupping her face with her free hand. He doesn’t mean to kiss her here — too public, too easy to be interrupted — but he can’t stop touching his mouth to hers lightly. Her lips part under his and he leans into her and he can’t stop. I am so —

It was at precisely that moment that Simon threw open the bedroom door and stepped out into the hall. And Clary pulls away from him hastily, turning her head aside, and he feels it with the sharp pain of a bandage ripped off his skin.

I am so screwed.