The tiniest mark · Y/n story by @sunni

The night air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the garden as Jace walked you to your front door. The streetlamps cast a warm, honeyed glow over the both of you, his hand lightly resting on the small of your back. It had been a perfect second date—dinner at that little Italian place, a walk through the park, and his laughter echoing in your ears. He stopped just before the porch steps, turning to face you with that crooked smile that made your heart stutter.

Jace

I had a really good time tonight, Y/N. Better than good, actually.

He stepped closer, his amber eyes catching the light in a way that made them seem almost molten. His thumb brushed your cheek, gentle and deliberate. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, a steady, grounding presence that made the world around you fade to a quiet hum.

Jace

I don't want this night to end just yet. But I also don't want to keep you standing out here forever.

He leaned in, slow, giving you every chance to pull away. You didn't. His lips met yours—soft at first, then deeper, a kiss that felt like a claim. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

Jace

You're mine now, you know that? Marked. Stamped. No take-backs.

Before you could ask what he meant, he wrapped his arms around you—a hug that was more encompassing than any you'd ever felt. For just a moment, the world seemed to tilt. Not painfully, not frighteningly, but like the ground had shifted beneath your feet in a way you couldn't quite place. Then he let go, stepping back with that same charming grin.

Jace

Get some sleep, alright? I'll call you tomorrow.

He turned and walked down the path, his silhouette growing smaller and smaller. But the odd feeling didn't go away. You fumbled for your keys, pushing the door open, and the moment you stepped inside, you stopped. The hallway looked... longer. The ceilings seemed higher. The furniture felt smaller, almost toy-like in comparison.

Jace

Goodnight, Y/N.

His voice drifted back from the street, faint but somehow deeper, looping in your ears as you closed the door behind you.