Black || Jace Wayland [1]

| 14. just for a moment

******

ASHER LEANED AGAINST the wall as she looked out into the streets of New York.

The large gray hoodie she woke up in at the infirmary draped over her frame and the tight clothing she had on earlier laid messily on her floor. She touched the stain glass delicately with one hand while the other laid on her stomach, right above her scar. It's faded, barely there, but one could still see a faint pinkish hue underneath her runes if they looked close enough.

Silence surrounded Asher as she remained perched on the small ledge underneath the window. She hoped that the lack of sound would calm her, but it only made her thoughts grow louder. Cries and screams rang inside of her head and dead bodies flashed in and out of her room. It's been years, but Asher remembered that night as if it happened moments ago.

A knock resounded through the room, breaking Asher out of her daze. The ear piercing cries dulled to a faint whisper and she found herself once again alone in an empty room. The door creaked open slowly, the person not bothering to wait for an invitation inside. The brunette didn't move as she remained in her original position. "Isabelle." Asher groaned, turning to who she expected to be her friend. "Now's definitely not the-" Her words caught in her throat.

Jace leaned against the post of her bed, arms crossed and muscles straining against his black shirt. "Hey."

The brunette stared at him for a moment before returning to her original position. "No sarcastic remark?" Low footsteps grew closer until she could see Jace from the corner of her eye. He hesitated for a moment beside her before sitting down on the other side of the ledge.

Jace looked out through the window and then down at his hands. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay." "Well, like you said," Asher leaned her chin against her fist, eyes not once moving to look at him. "Everybody has a sad song. I just don't sing it as much as others."

"Would you be willing to sing it to me?"

Asher saw his hopeful expression through the reflection of the window. Licking her lips, she let out a sigh before turning her body to face him. She pulled out her stele and brushed her hair away, slowly moving her stele along her collar bone to reveal an unusual-looking rune. "When I was eight, my parents took me to the Vatican Institute. Only a select few were asked to be there as a service to protect the Pope, and they were a part of those few."

Jace's eyes traveled the curves of her face from her eyebrow to the small dip of her chin as she spoke. "What people didn't know," Asher continued. "-was that they were actualy there to guard the Mortal Cup after news spread of the Circle and what they were doing to Downworlders." The male Shadowhunter's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but remained quiet to let her continue.

"One day, as everyone's guard was down, someone on the inside portalled members of the Circle to the gates and let them in. They swarmed the Institute, killing anyone who dared to get in their way. Valentine was there too." Asher raised her hand to hold her necklace. "My parents were trying to protect me when he killed them." Her hands began to shake slightly. "I remember him turning to me and then putting his hand over my mouth before he-"

Asher shut her eyes and breathed slowly to even her breath. Her hand clutched the necklace tightly, her knuckles turning white as she held onto the cherished pendant. Asher opened her eyes again, but this time she seemed distant as she thought back to that night. "All I remember is bleeding out beside my parents as I watched Valentine kill the kids that I trained with."