#dailyclizzysource

There! It’s fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird, fast and fragile.

So she doesn’t need to restart her heart but she still needs to get Izzy breathing again. She needs to get the water out of her lungs.

“Okay. Okay. I know this. Summer camp in high school with Simon.” She whispers to herself as she pulls Izzy’s head back to face her. Chin up to clear the airway, nose pinched to make sure the air actually reaches her lungs and four powerful exhales as Clary’s lips fall over Izzy’s. Check for breathing. Repeat.

She’s on the third rotation of the steps, salty tears slipping down her cheeks and joining the salt water surrounding them even as she’s still holding back the oncoming sobs, when Izzy finally starts coughing.

It’s the best sound she’s ever heard in her life. She helps Izzy get on her side, hands going for Izzy’s wet hair to pull them away from her face.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” She sobs, now that she can afford to, now that she can’t hold it back anymore. “Breathe, Izzy. You’re okay.”

“Clary?” Izzy asks, her voice is weak and scratchy and such a relief to hear that Clary can’t help but pull her into a hug and clutch her as close to herself as she’s physically able to. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Clary says automatically and only then realizes it’s true. Her recent memory is a hazy blur, she doesn’t remember how they got there or why they would have come here or where here was. She doesn’t remember them going out on a mission but neither does she remember getting kidnapped, not that that would make sense anyway, not considering the Seraph blade she’d found in the water beside her. “I don’t remember.”

“Neither can I. So that’s short term memory loss for both of us.” Izzy says and tries to get up. Clary pulls Izzy’s arm over her shoulder to help but then hisses as Izzy’s side presses against her own, the pain against the right side of her ribs screams at the contact, and then does so even more when Izzy stumbles and falls back on her knees, with her free arm now clutching her thigh.

Heart in her throat Clary looks on as Izzy uses a tear in her leather pants to rip it open wider and exposes the injury on her leg. There’s an ugly puncture wound the size of a pencil and a spread of dark veins around it. She hopes the sickly green glow around them is making it look worse than it is but Clary’s unsure if that’s not just wishful thinking on her part.

Then she blinks and her mind switches back to the green glow and the fact she’s seeing Izzy at all. Because her blade has been abandoned in the water since the moment she reached Izzy’s side, extinguished as soon as she dropped it. And yet it’s no longer darkness that surround them. Instead the water is glowing. Or at least something floating on top of the water in oily clots all around them is.

Her eyes follow the floating puddles of light and land on a grotesque version of a giant sea-horse lying dead behind them. The glow is coming from the blood seeping out of the creature and dripping into the water.

“Izzy?” She nudges.

Izzy’s eyes follow Clary’s and she lets out a string of Spanish that Clary doesn’t need to understand to know for a curse. “Me cago en todo lo que se menea!”

“So I take it you know our friend?”

“Hippokappanus. A subspecies of Kappa. They like to pull mundanes off ships and drown them… and their spiked heads contain venom that causes short term memory loss.”

“Oh,” Clary says and finds her hand going to her pulsing side, to the spot where she had up to now assumed she’d bruised her ribs. She pulls up her soaking wet shirt and looks down to the seeping wound that’s a twin to the one on Izzy’s leg, the same dark veins stark across her skin. Then she furrows her brows. “But it looks like we killed it before it took us down, so why did you-”

“They hunt in packs.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.” Clary says with feeling.

“Yeah.” Izzy echoes her sentiment. “We need to get out of the water.”

With the urgency ramped up they get to their feet as fast as they can, helping each other up and trying not to slip on the water covered stone.

“Wait, Clary.” Izzy says and shrugs out of her wet jacket. “We’re going to need light.”

Clary watches her drop it in the water and soak up the luminescent blood in the silk lining of her ghastly expensive red leather jacket.

“Do you think that’s a good idea? They might smell it and follow us.”

“Salt water Kappas don’t hunt by scent, they feel the ripples in water, they hunt by sensing movement and sound.” Izzy explains and then starts coughing again like she’s about to lose her lung.

Clary swallows beside her, arm around Izzy’s waist and able only to help her stay on her feet.

Eventually after Izzy’s breathing evens out they stumble toward the back of the cave. Now that the water demon’s blood is giving them light Clary can see that that is exactly where they are, some kind of underwater cavern.

—

After a few minutes of searching they come across an opening in the cave wall, it turns out to be a tunnel ending in a dead-end, which isn’t great information as far as finding a way out is concerned but at least they’re no longer in the water and the opening looks like it’s slightly too small to give access to any potential relatives of the dead demon.

“We should preserve as much body heat as we can, it’s cold here and we can’t afford to stay in soaking wet clothes until we figure out what to do.” Izzy says once they’ve stopped, the green blood-lantern dropped on the ground in a spot where they can see the way they came in, in case something is able to follow them after all.

“What do you suggest? We also can’t strip naked, that’s going to kill us even faster.” Clary says and forcefully pushes away the mental images that come with the words.

“We should at least squeeze all the water we can out of them. Putting them back after isn’t ideal but you’re right, it’s the only option we have.” Izzy says.

“Good point, though we should probably first deal with those.” Clary says and gestures at Izzy’s leg and her own side.

“Not a bad plan.” Izzy admits and pulls out her stele.

Then she pulls off her soaked shirt to expose her chest. Healing runes work better when placed close to the heart but somehow Clary still wasn’t prepared for Izzy to suddenly be in front of her in just her bra. Heat creeps up her skin and then down before Clary catches herself and flings her eyes up and to the left to give Izzy some privacy.

She doesn’t understand the sudden energy consuming all the air in the room until Clary can only breathe in little bursts of breath. She’s seen Izzy like this before, every time Izzy has pulled her into her room to boss her way into getting Clary to try on some of Izzy’s clothes for a mission and then finds something to wear herself she’s seen Izzy like this. She’s always let Clary change behind the privacy screen because it makes her more comfortable but Izzy herself has never been self conscious. 

So it’s not a new sight, it shouldn’t be exposing any kind of new feelings.

Except of course it’s entirely different. Izzy had never almost died in front of her before, not like that anyway. Clary hadn’t ever almost lost her before.

“Your turn?” Izzy says, closer than she was before. Clary has to blink before she’s able to talk herself into looking at Izzy again.

“Well?” Izzy says and gestures at Clary to remove her shirt. Clary follows Izzy’s unvoiced prompt and does so but before Clary can move to take the stele from her, Izzy is already inside her space and slowly sliding it across her skin in the careful elegant loops of the rune ‘mendelin’. The rune burns into her skin but Clary barely feels it over the painful beating of her heart.

“Thanks.” Clary utters in a stilted sort of way, grateful beyond all reason that the light around them is not anywhere bright enough to reveal the blush Clary is absolutely certain covers almost the entirety of her exposed body.

“No problem querida.” Izzy says and affectionately pulls a wet strand of hair out of Clary’s face and tucks it behind her ear. Then she smiles at her and Clary feels absolutely helpless under it.

She wants to say this is something new except it doesn’t feel new. It feels like it’s been building without Clary having paid attention and now is when it has decided to wave its arms and draw her attention and hit her like a blow to the chest.

‘Oh.’ Clary whispers somewhere in the deepest recesses of her mind as something crystallizes in her heart, something that’s been there the entire time except now it has a shape and a face and a name. 

Then Clary swallows, builds herself back from the ground up and smiles back at Izzy before she turns back toward the situation at hand. They are cold, alone, facing an uncertain amount of time for a rescue and in not insignificant danger of being found by other water demons.

They are also soaked to the bone, so they both proceed to squeeze as much water out of their clothing as they can before they get back to dressing. Clary’s revelation will hold.

—

Once they are dressed back in their now damp and somehow even more cold feeling clothing, they share a look and carefully lay on the ground, slipping their arms back around each other. Except now instead of doing it for the support each of them provided the other because of their injuries they do it because they’re both shivering and the only source of heat they have is each other.

And maybe because it’s giving them the other kind of support, the kind you only get when someone you care about and who cares about you is there sharing whatever the trouble in front of them. Clary at least really needs the contact, it reminds her that Izzy’s right there and alive and not lying drowned in the water beside the demon that almost killed them.

She snuggles as close to Izzy as she can, close enough that she can feel the rise and fall of Izzy’s chest, hear the still not quite healthy sounding wheeze of her breathing. But as long as she’s breathing at all Clary knows it’ll be okay, that once they’re back at the Institute the healers will fix whatever the runes can’t deal with.

“Hey, Izzy?” Clary whispers a long while later.

For a moment Clary wonders if Izzy’s asleep but then she hears the whispered answer and relaxes.“Yeah?”

“Don’t ever do that to me again, okay?” Clary says and doesn’t shiver even though she wants to. Not from the cold, with their arms around each other, her head tucked in the hollow of Izzy’s neck and their legs twined together, it’s almost enough to be warm. It would be if the stone below them wasn’t so cold.

“What do you mean?” Izzy asks and starts playing with Clary’s hair, it’s almost dry now, just gross from its date with sea water.

“You weren’t breathing, I had to breathe for you for almost half a minute before you finally started coughing up the water.” Clary says, and this time doesn’t manage to halt the full body shudder that fights its way out.

Izzy’s hand in her hair stops for an extended second and then resumes its soothing course through the strands.

“Well that’s just not fair at all.” Izzy says, lightly with a rueful edge of humor that confuses her.

“Huh?” She asks.

“I finally get Clary Fray’s lips on mine and I’m not even conscious to enjoy it.” Izzy says and then lightly flicks Clary’s earlobe as if in admonition. 

Clary’s lips twitch up in a smile. She chuckles. “Leave it to Isabelle Lightwood to be able to flirt as a joke after almost dying.”

Clary doesn’t even know why she says it, it just slips out before she can think better. But it’s out and Izzy freezes in place and Clary, who only moments ago was a few heartbeats away from slipping into sleep, finds she’s wide awake and absolutely terrified.

“It’s never been a joke, mi hermosa.” Izzy says. her voice tight with suppressed emotion. Except for once Clary can’t tell if it’s anger or a deep seeded sadness hiding behind the words. Either way though it feels like she’s just hurt Izzy more badly than she’s ever hurt her before and that’s saying something because despite her best attempts she can’t honestly say she’s never hurt Izzy before.

She knows she has, it was always unintentional and she never ever wanted to but she does know that there have been moments that left a mark. Except suddenly she realizes she might have hurt Izzy in ways she’d never realized before.

Because if that’s true. If Izzy’s flirting has never been a joke, if it’s never been the friendly harmless fun Clary had taken it for then… then Clary might have hurt Izzy in countless little ways since the very beginning. Because Izzy has flirted with her since the moment they met.

And with that realization Clary feels the strange sensation of her heart simultaneously breaking for Izzy and filling up to the brim with light and happiness and hope and it’s almost unbearable.

“Look at me.” Clary chokes out as she picks up her head, pushes up with her hands and stares down at the silhouette of Izzy’s face. “Please, Isabelle.”

She sees Izzy clench her jaw and for a moment Clary’s afraid that she won’t, that this moment, whatever it’s about to become is going to slip through Clary’s fingers like sand and Izzy will lock whatever is in her eyes right now into the deepest recesses of her heart, smother it until it blows away like so much smoke and never ever let it reach the light of day again.

But Izzy has always been far braver than Clary, she turns her face and lets Clary see the things she’s been hiding there for so long. There’s resentment on Izzy’s face, and hurt, there’s anger and longing and so much want Clary almost melts in it.

And then she does. 

Their lips crash together like gravity. Like lightning inside a storm. Everything within Clary exploding until she doesn’t know where she starts and these feelings end.

And between every clash of lips something else slips out of Izzy’s mouth. ‘You never saw me.’, ‘You’re beautiful.’, ‘Why was it only ever him.’,’I wanted you too.’, ‘Sometimes I wanted to hate you so badly it hurt to breathe.’, ‘You’re my best friend, I don’t want to lose you.’ and always always ‘Te quiero.’ ‘Te quiero.’ ‘Te quiero.’.

And Clary can do nothing but respond, gasping back every single thing she’s ever caught herself thinking and dismissed as nothing. ‘I saw you, i saw you.’, ‘You were like starlight.’ , ‘I missed you most of all.’, ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’, ‘I can’t lose you.’  and most of all ‘I love you too.’

It’s like a moment stuck in amber and she knows that when it ends things will become complicated again, because Clary won’t be able to fix this with a few words or kisses. It seems she hasn’t just hurt Izzy, she’s broken her heart, maybe more than once and even if Clary knows she couldn’t have known, even if Izzy knows that, even though she couldn’t have avoided breaking something she hadn’t known was hers, it doesn’t mean she can mend Izzy’s heart just by wishing it.

It will take time. It will take Clary proving that this isn’t something that is happening just because she almost lost Izzy and it hurt. That she didn’t kiss her because she’s afraid that their friends and family won’t be able to find them and she’s grabbing this moment out of that fear. That it’s not happening out of misplaced guilt or pity or some sense of apology.

She’s going to need to prove to Izzy that she loves her even though she hadn’t known until almost losing her just how much, no matter how cliche it sounds even to Clary herself.

And because she knows the moment will end she wants to extend it as long as possible. Wants to imprint it into her very skin because she knows she’s going to have to fight for this. And she’s going to need to remember how it felt to touch Isabelle’s heart with her own to be strong enough to never break her heart again.

So she keeps kissing her. Tasting Izzy’s every tear, on her lips, on her cheeks and then moves to catch her own as they drop on Izzy’s face and slide down her neck.

And Izzy’s hands haven’t left Clary’s hair, like she’s afraid that if they do Clary will pull back and evaporate like water in summer sunlight.

But no beautiful moment lasts as long as you want it to so eventually Clary can’t keep ignoring the other voices. The voices coming from the cavern they left behind hours ago, the voices calling their names. 

Reluctantly she pulls back and locks eyes with Izzy again.

They stare at each other as the voices of Alec and Magnus, Simon and Jace call out for Clary and Izzy.

“We’re here!’ Izzy calls back through her scratchy throat and Clary sees the walls being pulled back in place, brick by painful brick until Izzy is the Izzy she’d known before they woke up here. The Izzy who loved Clary but only as much as anyone expected her to love Clary.

“Are you talking about nude modeling?!” Isabelle asks, her tone shocked. She’s confident with her body but that seems like too much for her. 

“You don’t need to be fully naked,” Clary explains quickly. “And no one will actually see anything.”

Isabelle looks at her with a confused expression and Clary sighs deeply.

“I’m supposed to make a series of paintings on different types of surfaces,” Clary explains and Isabelle remembers her explaining it a couple of days prior. “I just finished the traditional painting and I was thinking that I’d love to use body painting as the technique for the second one.”

“You want to paint on me?” Isabelle asks, making sure she understood it right. 

“On your back, yeah,” Clary confirms. “I understand if you don’t want to, or if you’re busy with studying or -”

“Clary,” Isabelle cuts the nervous rambling. Clary shuts up and looks at Izzy with so much uncertainty. Isabelle wants to wipe it all away so she kisses her softly before continuing, “I’ll do it.”

“Really?” Clary asks and she looks both relieved and happy.

“Really,” Isabelle confirms and smiles at her girlfriend. “Do you want to do it now?”

“Whatever works for you,” Clary says diplomatically. “Now is fine.”

“Great!” Isabelle says. “What do you want me to do?”

“Give me a second to get everything ready and we can start,” Clary says. The nervousness is gone and she’s smiling again. Isabelle’s heart feels warm as she knows that it’s because of her. “Could you put your hair up? It can’t cover your back.”

“Yeah, sure,” Isabelle replies and goes to the bathroom of their small apartment while Clary retreats to the bedroom. Once her hair is up on a messy bun and she’s sure there are no stray strands hanging down her back, she goes to the bedroom.

There’s an easel on the corner of it with a beautiful painting on it. It looks like a small hill, but the focus is on the array of blues and purples on the sky that’s filled with tiny stars. Their bed is covered by an old sheet that has a rip on the corner, and Izzy assumes that the sheet is there to protect their bed from the accidental droplets of paint. The paints are on the nightstand next to an array of brushes, and Clary is standing next to the bed.

“Everything is ready,” she says with a smile.

“So I just lay down?” Isabelle asks and gestures to the bed.

“Yeah,” Clary says. “On your stomach.”

Isabelle reaches to the bottom of her shirt and pulls it off before climbing on the bed, but before she can lay down Clary clears her throat.

“Um,” she starts. “The bra too, if you don’t mind.”

Isabelle smirks and reaches behind herself to unclasp her bra and take it off, setting it on the floor as she lays down on the bed.

“I’m all yours,” she says as she gets comfortable. She lays her head on the pillow and slides her hands underneath it. “Is this okay?”

“This is perfect,” Clary breathes out and sits down on the side of the bed. Isabelle watches as she takes the pallet with different shades of paint on it and pokes her finger on the blob of dark blue paint.

“This is going to feel a bit cold,” she warns before she touches the skin at Isabelle’s shoulder blade with the paint-covered finger. Clary was right, it does feel cold, and Isabelle shivers. But the coldness passes quickly as the warmth of Clary’s finger replaces it. 

“You are going to paint using your fingers?” Izzy asks.

“At the beginning, yeah,” Clary says. “I’ll use the brushes to add detail later.”

Isabelle nods and doesn’t speak more. She lets Clary focus on her work and listens to the playlist Clary has playing from her phone that sits next to the paints on the nightstand. Isabelle focuses on the feeling of Clary’s fingers traveling all around her back.

“Mmm, I could fall asleep,” Isabelle says after a while. She has no idea how much time has passed, it could be twenty minutes or it could be an hour. “This is so relaxing.”

“Go ahead,” Clary laughs. “Just try not to roll over in your sleep. It would ruin everything I’ve painted so far.”

Despite her words, Isabelle doesn’t let the sleep take her over. She tries to figure out how the painting on her back is going to look like, but she has no idea. Knowing Clary and her skillset, the only thing Isabelle can be sure about is the fact that the painting will no doubt be gorgeous. 

Like she said, Clary switches to the brush at some point, painting long lines and curves from Isabelle’s shoulders down to where her jeans start. Isabelle is pretty sure that there’s not an inch of skin without paint left on her back. At some point Clary moves to straddle Isabelle’s thighs, leaning closer to be able to see the painting better.

 Isabelle shivers for the hundredth time as Clary blows warm air to it to help the paint dry faster.

The weight of her girlfriend on her thighs is pressing Isabelle firmer to the bed, and as the fingers are back on her back her thoughts drift to other activities this bed has seen where either of them has been pushed down to it. 

She shakes those thoughts, though, and focuses on staying still.  

“I’m almost finished,” Clary says from above her. She’s painting something that feels like small dots now, the touches of the brush light on Isabelle’s skin. 

“Okay.”

It takes a few more minutes until Clary declares that the painting is finished. She’s blowing more air to Isabelle’s back now, and it makes the hairs at the back of her neck stand up and goosebumps erupt on her skin.

“I’m going to take a picture here and another one when you’re standing, okay?” Clary asks and her weight shifts as she leans to the nightstand where her camera is. She kneels with her knees on both sides of Isabelle’s thighs and raises herself up enough to take a few pictures.

Isabelle can’t wait to see what it looks like.

Clary climbs off of her and asks her to stand up as she takes a few more pictures of the painting.

“Okay I’m finished,” she declares as puts the camera away. Isabelle is already walking to the mirror in the corner of the room, turning her back to it to admire the painting.

It fits the theme of the painting on the easel next to her, but this one is completely focusing on the night sky. It looks like a galaxy - the colors vibrant but blending naturally and the tiny gold dots giving it a lot of light. 

“It looks amazing,” Isabelle says on an exhale. “Clary you are so talented.”

Clary walks up to her so that she’s standing in front of Isabelle, her eyes on the mirror and the painting. “You think so?”

Isabelle turns to look at Clary before she looks back at the painting, unable to look away for too long. “Of course!”

“Thank you,” Clary replies.

Isabelle can see her in the mirror and she doesn’t miss the blush and the small smile the compliment causes. Her girlfriend is adorable and Isabelle loves it when she can make her blush.

They are both looking a the painting and Isabelle reaches to brush her fingers along the edge of it, her touch light even though the paint has dried a long time ago. 

“How am I supposed to be able to wash this off?” She asks, turning to look at Clary properly, not just through a mirror. “It feels almost offensive.”

“I promise I won’t have any hard feelings,” Clary replies with a smile. “But if you can’t handle the idea of washing it away I could always help you.”

“Is that so?” Isabelle asks, raising her eyebrow.

“Mhm,” Clary agrees, wrapping her arms around Isabelle and pulling her close, her hands splayed wide over the painting. Clary feels warm against Isabelle’s shirtless body. “I made that, I have no problem washing it away. You don’t need a painting on your body, you’re beautiful as yourself.”

It’s not easy to make Isabelle Lightwood blush, but the honest compliments her girlfriend showers her with are a sure way to get the colour to rise on her cheeks. She pecks Clary’s nose before leaning in to kiss her properly, while her hands wander under Clary’s shirt, pushing the fabric up as they go.