Wishful Thinking

It was becoming increasingly harder for Isabelle Lightwood to be the fifth wheel. At first, she hadn't really cared much. It wasn't painful to watch Magnus give Alec those devilish kisses or for Jace to just grab Clary and hold her like he was her whole world. No, it wasn't hard at first at all. It was comforting to see happy couples after being the mess Simon made of her. Unfortunately for Isabelle, the pain he caused slowly faded away and was replaced with the need to not be lonely any more.

Isabelle sighed, sitting down upon the old leather chair. The Institute was quiet, like a lifeless vessel for her to spend her days. Her phone was dead silent in her pocket. It seemed as if no one in the world wanted to talk to her and even if they did bother to text her, she knew she wouldn't put forth the effort to reply. Instead she crosses her legs and picks up whatever book that was on the side table. She opened it, but just stared at the page for the next five minutes, not feeling up to doing much anything else. She was alone with no one to hold her.

Surprisingly, it was Magnus who found her all alone there, book in hand but eyes on her lap. Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn, was all decked out for the evening. His pitch black hair was spiked as usual and even more predictably, it was covered in glitter. His tight skinny jeans were a vibrant neon yellow and his skin tight tank top was black and also covered in glitter. Over that he wore a studded leather jacket that only came down to his ribs. The warlock stalked over to the Nephilim, knee high boots like daggers on the floor.

"You okay there, Shadowhunter?" He asked, nonchalantly looking at his yellow painted nails. Isabelle loved and supported her twin brother's relationship with the warlock but sometimes he could be just a tad eccentric for her taste. Magnus looked down on the girl when she didn't reply back, his cat eyes peering into hers.

"Yes, Magnus. I'm fine," she breathed. Isabelle was known to be beautiful and dangerous, but she considered her silver tongue her biggest weapon. The warlock narrowed his eyes and cocked an eyebrow. What's the use in lying? She thought. "Fine, I'm just feeling a bit lonely is all."

"Oh girl, we can fix that," He said with a cocky grin. Isabelle looked up half startled. "I'm taking Alec to the club tonight. That boy needs to learn how to dance. You're welcome to come if you like- Jace and Clary will be there too."

Great, she thought. That's just what I need. I just love seeing the poster children for perfect love lifes. She did consider it, however. It did beat sitting around the Institute all night like some pathetic loner. Isabelle was accustomed to going out to clubs and dancing and being the center of attention. Maybe if she went, she'd meet someone out on the dance floor. She gave Magnus a faint smile.

"I'll go."



Isabelle swirled the straw in her drink and looked down at it. Coming to the club had been such a stupid decision on her part. She would ask to leave, but everyone was having such a good time that she couldn't bear to end it. So, in the end, that's how she ended up where she was- at the corner table, watching Alec attempt -and failing miserably- at grinding with Magnus. If she weren't in such a mood she would have laughed or better yet, even grabbed a guy and showed him how to do it right. But, instead she chose to stay silent and watch the crowd.

Jace noticed her situation, however. Quite truthfully, he'd taken notice awhile ago, but wanted have a good time with Clary, so he put it out of his brain. But now, seeing Isabelle sulk all by herself, it was just to much for her. Isabelle watched as he whispered something to Clary and then pushed through the dancing mundanes and back to where she sat. He pulled up a chair right next to her and looked her right in the eyes, his tawny hair sort of glowing in the strobe lights. "Isabelle, what's wrong?"

"I," she stopped herself. Jace could be such a sarcastic, ignorant boy sometimes but tonight his concern seemed so genuine. "I feel like I'm bringing you guys down." It wasn't entirely false, but she was trying to avoid the real matter at hand.

"We both know that that's not what's wrong. You love making Clary miserable. Now, what's really the matter?" She looked into his golden-like eyes and sighed. She'd have to tell him.

"I just wish I had a boyfriend. Like Clary, like Magnus, like most of these stupid mundanes here," She said. She hadn't noticed it herself, but her eyes were starting to water. Jace took notice and put his hand on her shoulder. She felt a little safer at the touch.

"Isabelle- suck it up." She flinched in her seat. This was the real Jace- she should have known he wouldn't be supportive. He opened his mouth to talk again and all she could think was that he was about to make a joke of some kind. She couldn't have been more wrong. "You are the most beautiful, confident girl I know. Hell, you might even be a better Shadowhunter than me! You are beautiful and can have any guy you want! So, why mope around about it?"

"I don't want a guy. I want a boyfriend. Not some jerk who will cheat on me," she scoffed. Simon had been two-timing and it tore her to shreds inside.

"Izzy, I want that for you too. You deserve a boy who's going to treat you like the Princess you seem to believe you are. You deserve some boy who's going to give you flowers and take you to dinner. You deserve a boy who will hold your hand and kiss you, someone who will hold you when you cry. That's what you deserve- but that's not what I want you to have," he said, shaking his head. Isabelle was confused but stayed silent to hear the rest of what he had to say.

"Izzy," he said again. "You deserve whatever you think you do, but we both know what you deserve is not what you want and frankly, I don't think he'll be good enough for you. You don't need a man to love you. You need a man who is exactly like you- sexy, dangerous, and cocky. You need to find yourself in male form. You don't need some sappy romance. You need someone who keeps you alive and guessing. Do you know who does that better than anyone I know?"

"Who?" She asked, leaning toward Jace. He just smirked.

"Isabelle Lightwood. She is the only one who can keep you alive. Izzy, you don't need a man, you just need some new shoes and a new passion. Sure, boys can be great to have, but what you need is to be the same old you. That's how you'll meet a boy, you'll meet him by being that pain-in-the-ass Isabelle I know," he paused and took a swig of her drink. "You just need Isabelle Lightwood."

Then he did something unexpected. He leaned forward and kissed the girl on the cheek. There was nothing romantic in the gesture, nothing passionate or sweet. It was more of a form of reassurance. Isabelle knew in that moment that Jace was right. She was one bad ass Shadowhunter and an even mow kick-ass temptress. She didn't need a man, she needed a new boy toy to mess with and eventually break his heart. It was unfortunate and true. But that small kiss on the cheek made her think that maybe -just maybe- she won't eat some new boys heart out. Maybe she'd give him a chance.

So, just like that, she gained a new hope for the future and as much as she hated it, it was all thanks to Jace Herondale.