“We are NOT marathoning Star Wars again.”
Simon chuckled, shrugging off his gear and putting away a few daggers and such. Simon and Izzy hunted down two raveners that day, and Simon couldn’t wait to get the stench of demon icor off of him.
"Fine, we won’t watch the greatest saga of all time. What you would you like to watch instead?"
Isabelle’s curtain of black hair veiled her face as she bent down to untie her boots. With a whoosh, she was back up again, her face flushed and eyes dark and soft. She flashed Simon a mischievous smile.
“No,” Simon said firmly, planting his feet with an air of authority. Isabelle sashayed over to him and wrapped her slender arms around his neck. She smelled a bit of sweat and sugary perfume.
"Please…" Isabelle began to kiss his neck. Simon groaned.
"But we watched Harry Potter last time!"
Isabelle continued her teasing, nipping at the tender flesh below his chin.
"Fine! Harry Potter it is. I can’t believe you like Harry Potter better than Star Wars."
Isabelle slid away from Simon, who secretly still wanted her body pressed against his. Simon watched her as she threw open drawers, scavenging for a DVD. Isabelle then let out a cute squeal and popped “The Sorcerer’s Stone” into the machine.
Simon yawned, it had been a long day. Ever since Simon’s ascension he’d been worked hard, having to force his body to strain and go beyond. He’d already grown a startling amount of muscle over the past year from training. Simon would always joke around with Jace saying he’d soon have a better bod than the cocky Shadowhunter. Jace would then proceed to roll his eyes, refusing to accept that anyone could have his godly abs.
"Hey Iz, I’m going to rinse off real quick."
Simon walked towards the bathroom, shedding his shirt on the way. His once plain bathroom was now cluttered with make up, hair stuff, and other feminine products he chose to ignore. It was strange to think only a couple of years ago he shared this bathroom with Jordan. Simon blinked away the memory, but he could still feel the ache in his chest. An empty scar, a ghost of a different life he still couldn’t fully remember.
The hot water kissed Simon’s skin and he breathed in a cloud of steam, closing his eyes. Simon was about to shampoo his hair when the shower curtain parted ever slightly and Isabelle stepped in in all her naked glory.
They shared a smile, a smile belonging to them and them alone.