Clary didn't ask what that was. She was busy trying not to fall over. The ground was heaving up and down under her feet. Jace, she said, and crumpled into him. He caught her as if he were used to catching fainting girls, as if he did it every day. Maybe he did. ✨ Cassandra Clare (2015). City of Bones, p.55, Simon and Schuster

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