Clary stared in awe at the warm, puffy pancakes in front of her, dipped in maple syrup--just how her mother used to make. Pain flashed through her body as she thought of her.

"Well, woman? Aren’t you going to eat?" She gave him a long look, raising her eyebrows.

“I have a name, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Classie. Eat up." Clary rolled her eyes in annoyance and was about to dig in when she noticed Ash didn't make a move to sit beside her or to eat at all. He simply just watched her with an amused expression.

"Aren’t you going to eat?" Clary gave him a questioning look.

A drop of sweat trickled down the side of his face as he gave her a look of pretended surprise. It was quickly replaced by a soft, but obviously fake, smile as he let out a nervous chuckle.

"I already ate," he said finally, turning to leave. He barely made a sound as he glided over the wooden floor. It was almost like a predator, seeking out prey. Clary tried to shake the thought from her mind, but it had already started to play out in her head.

________________

The screams of her parents echoed in her numb head as they were devoured by the monster that had invaded their home. It looked like a normal wolf, but it turned into a man occasionally. She had been hiding inside her room and was safe, but her parents weren’t so lucky.

________________

Ash isn't that monster. He is completely human. She argued in her mind. Otherwise, I would have been dead by now. Clary shook her head and started eating silently, eyes widening at the incredibly sweet taste.

"He sure knows his stuff in the kitchen...," she muttered under her breath. After finishing up, she washed the dishes and walked into the living room where Ash was sitting, reading a book.

Stifling a laugh, Clary moved to sit beside him. If he reads books, maybe he isn't so bad after all.

Clary leaned closer to Ash, making him stiffen. "What do you want?" Looking up from his book, he gave her a soft glare. "O-Oh, sorry. I just wanted to see what you were reading," she said quickly, glancing at him nervously.

"Well, I suppose you could read with me." A grin was visible on his still pale face. "Well? What are you waiting for? Come on." He motioned for her to look at the pages when she didn't move. Blushing slightly, she leaned in even closer, Ash's breath on her neck.

"What's it about?" she asked softly.

She could not see his face because her back was towards him, but she felt him take in a breath to talk.

"It’s a tragic love story, I suppose."

They had spent hours reading, just discussing the book when the front door opened, then slammed shut, making them both jump. Clary fell into Ash's lap, making them both blush deeply. A chuckle rang throughout the silent apartment.

"Well, hello, Lovebirds."

Stella stood in the doorway, her hair damp from the pouring rain. Clary's blush grew a shade darker as she struggled to sit up straight. But before she succeeded, she thought she saw Ash's eyes change color from the corner of her eye.

But when she glanced over at him, his charming blue eyes were the same as they always were, drawing her in. I must have imagined it, she thought, as she went over to greet Stella.

"Do you ever stop teasing me, Stella?" she groaned, hugging her best friend. She chuckled again, bemused.

"Nope." Clary gave her a playful glare and went back to sit down.

"Where were you, anyway?" she questioned, pouting like a small child might do to her parent.

"Shopping." Her answer was short, as always, as she grabbed the many bags and rushed into her own room. Huffing, Clary started to stand up and leave as well, when she saw the look on Ash's face. He was red, no longer pale, and his eyes were closed in silent pain.

Clary gasped softly and reached to touch his forehead when she was stopped once more--just like the first time they had met. She grinned as if remembering a pleasant memory.

"No..." He pushed her away, almost throwing her to the ground. The grin was wiped from her face as she stared at him, and was about to protest.

"J-Just don’t...I’m fine." He stood up rather slowly, making his way to the sofa and laid down. He never opened his eyes as he did, and it made Clary wonder if he was in pain at all.

Deciding to leave him alone, she went into her room to take a shower. She really needed one; her clothes stunk like rotten eggs. Stripping off her clothes, she stepped into the shower. The warm water ran down her freezing back, warming her body as she sang a soft tune her mother used to sing to her every night.

Silence fills the room, tinted with a gloom

Softly but with ease, nothing as it seems

Don’t you ever cry, surely you must love

Never forget this, darkness never stays

After Clary was done, she blow-dried her black hair and wrapped a towel around her wet body. She then hurried into her room, shuddering from the cold air.

Proceeding to change into a blue tank top and black jeans, she silently went over to her bed and lay down. This had been a long day.

Clary woke up with a start and glanced around, sweat trickling down her face. Another nightmare. She sighed, and wiped her damp forehead. She stood up to walk over to Stella's room when she paused. Ash. Her heart racing, she silently walked towards the sofa, instead.

Clary let out a breath she was holding in one swift sigh. Seeing him sleeping soundly, wrapped in layers of blankets, made her rather tired. The way he was sleeping made him look innocent, like a small, fragile puppy.

Without thinking, she went to stroke back his silver hair that had fallen over his eyes. He didn't move, to Clary's relief, and kept sleeping. Or so she thought.

"Clary..." His voice was hoarse, drowsy with sleepiness.

Flinching at his voice, she braced herself for him to snap at her, but it never came.

"Come sit by my side," were his surprising words. She did as he asked, hesitating slightly. "Clary," he said again, his voice soft. It made her want to get lost in it, to hide and never be found. He stroked her cheek softly, with a brush of a finger. Her face burned where he touched her.

"Ash..." Clary mumbled. It came rolling on her tongue. She loved the sound of his name. Ash. But before she could think or do anything further, she was pushed away.

"No." She flinched at his stern word, but his expression softened from its tensed state as he stared at her.

"Clary, you should go wake Stella, and I will make breakfast."

Clary whimpered like a lost puppy.

"Go? But--" His glare cut her off. Though no words passed between them, Clary knew she had been too straightforward and had driven him away. But the look in his eyes tells me otherwise; it's something else.

Clary stood up and left, her heart racing fast. Stella was in her room, working on a drawing she was preparing to hang on a wall that was lined with rows and rows of drawings, sketchings and paintings. They were arranged in a way that one might think it was an art gallery. Perhaps it was.

"Come in." Stella sighed and turned around to face her friend. "Yes?"

"Stella, I just wanted to say...breakfast will be ready soon." Her voice almost broke.

Stella glanced at her with puzzlement for a few moments before frowning. "What's the matter, Clary? You look ill."

Clary gulped down a nonexistent lump in her throat and took a deep breath.

"I-I think I might have caught a cold." Her lie, she knew, would not work, for Stella was very good at telling if you were honest or not. But to her surprise, it wasn't so today.

Stella raised an eyebrow and sighed.

"Very well. I will be there in a few minutes." With a nod, Clary walked out the door and into the steaming kitchen.

"Ah. Is she coming?" Ash grinned at her. Why is he acting as if nothing has happened?

In a way, she wanted to forget about the event, but she also wanted it to be settled, to be explained. But without a further word, she sat.

"Yes, she is." She forced a smile onto her face. If he wanted to keep it this way, she would let him.

Breakfast was served and Stella joined them shortly after. They had small chats every once in a while, about cars and the mechanics of how they work. Strange subject to talk about, yes, but Stella had a mechanical mind, and therefore, she talked with her own highly technical language to either annoy someone, or she was too bored to have a normal conversation. It was probably the latter.

But of course, she hadn't expected him to understand.

"Yes, of course the pumps are located beside the motor and the oil needs to be changed every few months. Sometimes it depends on the car," said Ash. Stella just sat there, her mouth gaping open. One might think a fly would fly right into it.

Clary couldn't help but laugh, earning a glare from Stella. Ash had roasted her. And roasted her good.