The following is what my brain comes up with when I happen to ignore the metaphor of the glass ceiling in Rachel Platten’s “Broken Glass.”
Kit’s phone buzzed in the pocket of his gear jacket. Really? Well, if it were something important, whoever it was would leave a message. He was kind of busy battling demons at the moment. One of them was creeping up on him, but he jumped back and sliced through its tentacles like butter.
I was messing around with the “Pages” app on my new phone, and somehow, I deleted the fanfic I’d been working on.
The shot discharged with a cloud of smoke. Jamie gasped and winced with pain.
That was the last straw. She had a lot of nerve just showing up, but she wouldn’t get very far.
“Ian,” Claire said, “help him inside and wait for me.”
“Of course, Auntie.”
Once both of them were out of sight, Claire went for it. By profession and nature, she wasn’t one to hurt people, but this was an exception. She ran at Laoghaire, knocking both of them to the ground.
“Jamie’s mine, you damn piece of slime.”
If I had to choose between writing my own blog and reading others, I don’t think I could.
Roger and his wife lay down in bed, snuggled together on the edge of sleep.
“You know, Bree,” he said. “In all the years we’ve been marrit, we havena really had a honeymoon.”
In answer, she rolled over on her stomach and leaned on her elbows, facing him.
“That’s true, but there wasn’t much time for vacation in the eighteenth century. Did you have anything in mind?” Brianna asked. “By the way, I love your voice when you’re sleepy. Your accent comes out, and it reminds me of Da.”
I dinna exactly have anything in mind, but I’ll figure something out. Do ye miss your parents?” he asked.
Yeah. Always. It’s a bit harder to bear when Jem randomly starts speaking Gaelic, but it’s not like I’m going to stop him. He’s already been traumatized by Mrs. What’s-Her-Face. Besides, it reminds me of the good times we had.”
“We certainly had fun, didn’t we?” Roger said.
“Yeah, we did,” Bree said, laughing quietly and rolling on her side with her head on Roger’s chest, looking up at the ceiling. “It’s just weird missing people who are in another century.”
Soon after that, they both fell asleep.
In response to Does Writing Energize or Exhaust you?
After Livvy’s death, Ty kept to his room for weeks on end, paralyzed by grief. Of course, it was the room he’d shared with her, but at least he could feel she was there with him in spirit. Julian and Kit were the only ones he allowed in the room; they were the two people he trusted most outside of his twin.
Livvy. What happened at the council meeting in Idris was a hazy blur. But when she was hurt, he could feel it. It was a sharp pain repeatedly stabbing his heart. He had a hard time believing she was dead. Maybe that was because he couldn’t stop reliving what happened. It played over and over like a movie in his head. Not just a movie, a nightmare.
He lay on his bed, aching with exhaustion; he hadn’t been able to sleep well at all. To his right, Livvy’s bed remained unmade; no one could bear to touch anything of hers. It was as if she’d be coming back to clean up her side of the room. But he knew she wouldn’t be. Even though they were never able to become parabatai, Ty felt like part of himself, his other half, was missing now that she was gone.
He closed his eyes, hoping to relax and get a good night sleep for once, when he heard a knock at the door.
“Ty? Can I come in?”
Kit elbowed the door open, carrying an assortment of snacks. “Thought you might be hungry,” he said. “Do you mind if I sit on the bed?”
“Thanks for coming to check on me,” Ty said, sitting up. “You can sit with me. I could use the company.” Kit smiled and handed Ty a bag of chips, which Ty promptly ripped open.
“How are you?”
Ty, his mouth full of chips, politely swallowed before answering. “I – I really don’t know how to describe it. I can’t …” he started shaking uncontrollably, his hands searching for something solid to grasp. “Can you hold me like you did on the roof?”
“I’m sorry Ty. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Kit said, wrapping his arms around Tiberius. He looked so worn out. Kit couldn’t imagine what he must be going through right now. But he knew Ty needed someone, so that’s what he was there for.
“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it,” Ty stammered. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you stayed with us.”
Kit was glad he decided to stay too. It was nice to feel wanted and loved. His dad had always left him to his own devices. And it seemed Ty cared for him as much as he cared for Ty.
Ty felt calmer. More calm than he had been in weeks. He craned his neck upward and kissed Kit’s cheek. Surprised, Kit responded with a kiss on Ty’s lips. He didn’t know what was happening, but it felt … good.
Until he remembered something.
“Wait – what if we want to be parabatai?”
“Oh, yeah, that,” Ty said. “I was thinking about it too. But all I know right now is I need you.” He laid back on his pillows and clutched Kit’s shirt, kissing him as if he were the last person on Earth.
Kit felt the heat. Maybe this was because he had a special connection with Ty. He didn’t mind exploring it; they needed each other.
Almost as soon as it had started, it was over. They lay next to each other on the bed, adrenaline still pumping. It was exhilarating. Ty rolled over to face Kit. “Can you stay here tonight?”
“Of course,” Kit said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The Institute’s doorbell rang loud and clear; they could feel the vibrations throughout.
The Blackthorns hadn’t been expecting anyone, so naturally everyone dropped what they were doing and crowded the foyer.
Diana was about to open the door when Tavvy bolted in front of her.
“I’ll get it!” he said, leaping for the ornate knob.
He opened it, backing up to reveal the entire doorway.
“Clary!” Emma ran towards her friend, almost knocking her over in a hug.
“Hey girly! Good to see you too!” Clary said as they separated from the embrace.
“Jace,” Julian clapped him on the shoulder, smiling. “What brings you here?”
“Oh, you know, just wanted to see how our old friends were doing. You’ve done a nice job with the Institute,” he said, marveling at the renovations.
Jace then spotted Kit, picking at his fingers in a corner of the kitchen.
“Ah, just the person I wanted to see,” Jace said, walking over. “Is there somewhere more private we can talk?”
Kit led Jace down the hall and up the stairs to the weapons room, which was across from the training room. It was where Kit felt most comfortable. It also happened to be where he and Jace first met.
“So what’s up?” Kit asked. Clary and Jace may have come to visit, but something told Kit there was more to it.
“Well-” Their roles seemed to be reversed. When they met the first time, it was Jace who had been confident, almost arrogant. Now, he was humble and nervous.
“I have a proposition for you,” Jace continued, hands in his pockets, avoiding eye contact. He hated getting touchy-feely unless it came to immediately family.
“I’m listening,” Kit said, curiosity peaked. He’d only met Jace a few times, but this seemed out of character for him.
“I was thinking about how we’re family, but I don’t know you that well. Would you … like to come to New York and hang out?”
Kit wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this. He didn’t think Jace had a soft side.
“Sure,” he said shyly. He wasn’t going to turn it down. He’d never left Los Angeles, and he’d always wanted to travel. “But I don’t know if I can … The Blackthorns are my family now.”
“We’re not asking you to stay permanently. That’s your decision.” Clary walked in the room, moving to stand beside Jace. “My friend Simon has been pouring over Shadowhunter genealogies lately – maybe he’s found something on the Herondales.”
“That sounds cool. I’ll have to pack and say goodbye.” Kit said, turning to go back to his room.
“You don’t need to pack much – we have clothes and other necessities. But take whatever you think you might need,” Clary said.
An hour later, Kit was in the foyer again, saying his goodbyes. He didn’t think any place like the Institute could be his home, but that’s what it had become. Being a Shadowhunter was really actually cool. And he was ready to go on all the adventures this life had in store.
Being married to John was different, to say the least. We had friendship, but even that seemed to be strained under the circumstances. I just couldn’t believe that Jamie was dead. It wasn’t that I was in denial; I didn’t know what to think.
The morning was bright, sunlight streaming in through the bedroom windows upstairs. John was still sleeping, so I got up quietly and went down to make myself some tea. I sat down at the table and tried to make sense of everything that had happened. Ian was dead, that much I could believe. As soon as I saw him, I knew he wouldn’t last much longer. But now … No, Jamie wasn’t dead. I didn’t know how I knew, I just did. However, I’d play along until I had some sort of proof.