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“You’re staring,” Alec said. His voice was clipped, disapproving. “At that girl. With the red hair.” "The one with the dark-haired friend?” Jace said. “I am not.” “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t know she had a dark-haired friend,” said Alec, who was terminally literal. “And besides, he’s probably her boyfriend." “He’s not,” Jace said immediately, and then realized he had no reason for assuming that, and also shouldn’t be speculating about the love lives of mundane” — Cassandra Clare
You’re staring,” Alec said. His voice was clipped, disapproving. “At that girl. With the red hair.”
"The one with the dark-haired friend?” Jace said. “I am not.”
“If you weren’t, you wouldn’t know she had a dark-haired friend,” said Alec, who was terminally literal. “And besides, he’s probably her boyfriend."
“He’s not,” Jace said immediately, and then realized he had no reason for assuming that, and also shouldn’t be speculating about the love lives of mundane