#⸻ ✧ 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 ┊ cordelia carstairs.

[scealtire]

      ⸻ ✧    ❝   anywhere  you  go ,  let  me  go  too    ❞     

    her heart skipped a beat.  those words.  words she had wished to hear from his lips, words she had dreamt about for so long. and yet, not in the way she had wished. for they were pretend, just like the marriage vows they had taken, just like their day to day lives. pretend, fake, not real. and yet, she still hoped, still wished that within the year something might change. could it? would the angel allow such a thing for her?  yet, these words were merely part of the pretense, and she knew she had to make sure her heart remembered that much. even as she looked upon him now with a smile, a bright one, one that was sure to have those jealous for it was for @heartvalor​ and no one else.  

     ❛  but husband... ❜    she grinned, her hand resting upon his arm gently, both of them in their finery for the event of the night. a gathering of shadowhunters, a place for them to prove that their marriage was strong, like rock, real as anyone else’s in this room.    ❛  that is a given, naturally.  ❜   she smiled back at him once more, releasing her loose grip on his arm to smooth out the wrinkles in her skirt. her gaze moved around the room before she stepped in closer to james’ side, her lips closer to his ear this time.    ❛  i do believe we may have to make an appearance on the dance floor...  ❜

[scealtire]

      ⸻ ✧    ' my heart feels uneasy,   even though i am free. is that suppose to be so? ' 

     freedom, yet not freely given. a heart wrapped in chains and buried beneath a sea of lies. thorns poised to rip and tear at the first sign of escape. for a heart wrapped in a silver chain was not so easily freed, a heart wrapped in a silver chain that left a line of tragedy in it’s wake. guilt must have eaten away at someone so caring, someone so trusting. what life had he led before now? false, never his own, a constant battle of a puppet master and his marionette. the strings had been cut, but the landing was not smooth. her own heart felt weighed down, as though something sat on her chest, constricting and squeezing, waiting for that audible pop. it was within her power to ease it, to give some sense of relief to them both yet it wasn’t within her grasp. not yet. not when the cracks were still so raw and had yet to be patched over. 

     memories of a room surfaced. of hushed words, whispers against skin and her name.... no, a flower.... spoken to the darkness between stolen kisses, rushed and hard yet soft as silk. or a night with tied limbs, and a promise to teach the other. memories that had weighed heavy on her mind, on her heart as the nights in paris crept by. nights filled with laughter, champagne and walks along a river bank that followed other hushed words, uttered this time by green eyes and tousled blonde. try as she might, golden eyes often crept into dreams, as though searching, waiting for her to return. had he waited? had he forgotten the taste of her lips, or were those memories finally unlocked from a chest hidden away?  the unease in his company now was unwelcome. a strange sensation she would not wish upon any other. to once feel as though she may call him home, to now feel as though she were intruding upon something secret.... it was unwelcome indeed.   ❛  @parabathai​​, your heart... --- it has not been your own for some time. ease may come with time.  ❜

       yet, it may not. would he ever be free to know himself again? who was james herondale? the ache, the weight on her chest threatened to shift. because she knew him. knew those eyes when they brightened at the sign of a book he had not yet read. or that smile that only appeared around his friends. or the darker gold of those eyes when lit by candle light during a game of chess. things that could not be faked, could not be stolen from him.   ❛  have you shared your thoughts with jem? he may be best equipped to help with such thoughts and feelings.  ❜   her own expertise, clouded by memories. false or not, damage had been wrought in the wake of a girl with thorns. her hands felt the cool air as gloves were pulled delicately off and placed on the table beside them.  ❛  would you prefer i stay with mâmân and alastair? for now? we can spin a tale of how you wished to refurbish rooms before my return from paris and that they were delayed...  ❜

[scealtire]

⸻ ✧   𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑  ┊  cordelia carstairs. ⸻ ✧   𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑  ┊  lucie herondale. ⸻ ✧   𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑  ┊  matthew fairchild. ⸻ ✧   𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑  ┊  james herondale. ⸻ ✧   𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑  ┊  tessa gray. ⸻ ✧   𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑  ┊  anna lightwood. ⸻ ✧   𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑  ┊  grace blackthorn. ⸻ ✧   𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑  ┊  jesse blackthorn. ⸻ ✧   𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑  ┊  cecily herondale. ⸻ ✧   𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑  ┊  feyre archeron. ⸻ ✧   𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑  ┊  nesta archeron. ⸻ ✧   𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑  ┊  freya of the spring court. ⸻ ✧   𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑  ┊  arawen archeron.