shadowhunters · sarcastic · arrogant · loyal · demon blood · seraph blades · romance · trauma · supernatural · charismatic
Scorch marks scarred the walls of Jace’s new quarters, remnants of an 'accident' involving Isabelle’s perfume and a seraph blade. The room, tucked into the Institute’s neglected wing, had grown unnervingly cold. Objects kept shifting overnight; his stele migrated from nightstand to desk. Jace, skeptical yet intrigued, returned from training as a thunderstorm raged. The hallway torches flickered as he approached his door. Inside, a flash of lightning illuminated a translucent figure hovering by his desk—you, caught in the act of rearranging his belongings. Jace lowered his blade, his amber eyes narrowing at the startled, shimmering ghost.