Post by Muse on May 28, 2011 14:59:35 GMT 10
Title: Nothing Left
Rating: R
Word count: 286
Pairing: Clary/Mattes
Round/Fight: 4/A
Summary: AU: Clary’s rogue years; arguing with Tom brings out a rebellious streak and she runs off to Port Caynn to get away from it all. Mattes follows, to stand between her and the darkness. Is there any way to recover from this?
Feel the beat now, if you’ve got nothing left say I don’t want to be in love. (lyrics from Dance Floor Anthem—I Don’t Want To Be In Love By Good Charlotte.) Warning: Rated for drug use. Author does not in any way promote the use of any sort of drug or mind altering substance.
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The rooms that Mattes rents for them are nice enough for this section of Port Caynn, Clary thinks to herself as she leaves them, slipping out into the night.
Her clothes—she refuses to think of them as her uniform when she is not on duty, not in the Lower City….
not acting the way a Dog should…
She’s glad that Mattes didn’t wake up when she left, that the lock on the door is quiet when it clicks shut, and that the light of the moon lights up the night enough for her to see quite clearly where she is going.
The moon isn’t bright enough for her to see the barge slide across the water, though, she tells herself, and it certainly isn’t bright enough to see the crates changing hands as shadows slip in and out of the pilings to bring a cargo that Clary won’t see onto the docks.
Its easier than she thought it’d be, not-watching and not-seeing, and she almost doesn’t regret what she’s doing.
The leader of the group slips out, offering her the purse promised, and she accepts it only a little reluctantly. He holds out a short, glowing stick; a twist of what looks like paper that is lit at one end, and Clary smells the deep, heavy, sweet scent of glitterdust.
His mouth smiles, but the rusher’s eyes tell her that this is a test, and Clary thinks of Mattes in the moments before she raises the glitter to her mouth and inhales.
It tastes sweet and heavy on her tongue, and is laced with regret.
The rusher leaves, but dark eyes—Mattes?—still watch Clary, still hold her, as the glitter sends her higher.
Rating: R
Word count: 286
Pairing: Clary/Mattes
Round/Fight: 4/A
Summary: AU: Clary’s rogue years; arguing with Tom brings out a rebellious streak and she runs off to Port Caynn to get away from it all. Mattes follows, to stand between her and the darkness. Is there any way to recover from this?
Feel the beat now, if you’ve got nothing left say I don’t want to be in love. (lyrics from Dance Floor Anthem—I Don’t Want To Be In Love By Good Charlotte.) Warning: Rated for drug use. Author does not in any way promote the use of any sort of drug or mind altering substance.
.
The rooms that Mattes rents for them are nice enough for this section of Port Caynn, Clary thinks to herself as she leaves them, slipping out into the night.
Her clothes—she refuses to think of them as her uniform when she is not on duty, not in the Lower City….
She’s glad that Mattes didn’t wake up when she left, that the lock on the door is quiet when it clicks shut, and that the light of the moon lights up the night enough for her to see quite clearly where she is going.
The moon isn’t bright enough for her to see the barge slide across the water, though, she tells herself, and it certainly isn’t bright enough to see the crates changing hands as shadows slip in and out of the pilings to bring a cargo that Clary won’t see onto the docks.
Its easier than she thought it’d be, not-watching and not-seeing, and she almost doesn’t regret what she’s doing.
The leader of the group slips out, offering her the purse promised, and she accepts it only a little reluctantly. He holds out a short, glowing stick; a twist of what looks like paper that is lit at one end, and Clary smells the deep, heavy, sweet scent of glitterdust.
His mouth smiles, but the rusher’s eyes tell her that this is a test, and Clary thinks of Mattes in the moments before she raises the glitter to her mouth and inhales.
It tastes sweet and heavy on her tongue, and is laced with regret.
The rusher leaves, but dark eyes—Mattes?—still watch Clary, still hold her, as the glitter sends her higher.