“I can’t even look at you, Clary,” Simon spits, low and accusatory. “I wanted to see you so badly, and now you’re right there, and I can’t even look at you.”

Jace would rather be anywhere else than here - stuck in some alternate dimension with Clary and Simon frigging Lewis. But, unfortunately, he doesn't have a choice. Also, Jace is not okay.

Pick anything the angel said, the Seelie Queen said, and she chose Jace. Anything in the whole world, and she chooses whom she doesn’t have. That isn’t quite complete: she thought she had Simon.

He can feel them both everywhere, standing between the two of them like this. He can feel the way the sweat drips down his back, Simon’s breath on his back, the hard surface of the boat under his hands.

He noticed the way Clary’s hand would rub soothing lines up and down Simon’s back as they sat in meetings. He would watch, face hot with something like jealousy when Clary would kiss Simon’s cheek whenever she left the room. Jace saw it all. And to be honest, it was probably inevitable that he would start to watch Simon, too.