He smiled as he ladled more gravy onto the stranger's plate, his blonde hair falling haphazardly into his eyes as he waved the haggard man forward and greeted the next in line with a charming smile and a 'Merry Christmas'. The pattern persisted as the line continued, unbroken but for when he glanced up to a pair of striking green eyes. His eyebrows rose and he realized her was staring rudely at her, so not to seem rude, he served her like he had the others despite the smoldering curiosity building between them. She flashed him a grateful smile and mumbled what he presumed was a 'thank you'.
He observed her as he proceeded to mechanically serve the line, neglecting to give them his attention as he focused on the girl. Her tangled red hair hung down her shoulders and swung slightly as she searched for a table to sit at. She was dressed in only an oversized black Hoodie and ripped jeans, despite the persistent snow fall outside. She chose a half filled table occupied with vaguely familiar faces from previous years. Jace frowned. He recognized her from school, he had passed her from time to time and was pretty sure she was in his grade. What was she doing having Christmas dinner at a homeless shelter?
He was only there as it used to be a family tradition to help out for the Christmas dinners at the homeless shelter and he was reluctant to let it die, especially since his parents could no longer do it. So it struck him as odd and saddening that someone from his school was spending Christmas dinner alone, surrounded by homeless strangers. His forehead crinkled as he tried to scour is brain for any information he had on the redhead. He could remember a lot of distressing rumors surrounding her. She was a target for bullies, he was almost certain. What was her name? Her name…? He had no idea.
He spotted an empty chair beside her and hurriedly served himself before stealing the seat near to her; at the motion her head turned sharply toward him in surprise before she quickly cast her eyes down to her half eaten meal, like a child caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
"Jace!" The friendly woman who came every year exclaimed heartily, drawing his attention away from her. "It's nice to see you here again! Merry Christmas!"
He returned the greeting, followed by a murmur from the table before he could once more focus on his new mystery.
"What's your name?" He decided to be upfront and ask her. She appeared to ignore him, perhaps she hadn't heard? He tapped her lightly on the shoulder and she jumped, looking at him with startled eyes.
"What's your name? I'm Jace." He tried again. She furrowed her eyebrows adorably.
"Me?" She finally replied, confusion written across her face as if she couldn't understand why he was talking to her. He nodded. "I-it's Clarissa," she replied timidly, unsure of herself.
"Merry Christmas, Clarissa!" Jace exclaimed, before tucking into some more turkey. The food was pretty decent for canteen food and it was enough to keep him from staring at her, he could see she was uncomfortable. Still, he reasoned, it was impossible not to steal furtive glances at Clarissa, who had returned to her meal. Her nose was bright red from the cold and he couldn't be sure but he thought he could make out a bruise patterning her left cheek.
Soon it was time to pull the budgeted Christmas crackers, he grabbed his and Clarissa's shared cracker and held it out to her. She watched him in confusion.
"Come on," He encouraged her, she merely stared at him.
"W-what am I meant to do?" she finally asked, admitting her apparent ignorance.
"You mean you don't know how to pull a cracker?" he asked, incredulous. She shook her head slightly, inching away from him.
"I mean, I know what they are…" she answered, defending herself.
She jumped as a few crackers went off, her shoulders hunching, cringing away from the noise.
"Well that's okay then, all you need to do is grab hold of the other end and pull," he explained. She reached out a hand tentatively, wrapping it around the other end- her hands were delicate and frail.
"Now we pull," he instructed, she tugged slightly and Jace yanked it hard, making the cracker fly out of her hands and thud onto the table, still not open. He chuckled.
"Let's try that again," he offered. "Pull harder this time."
They repeated it but she held on tighter than before, ripping the cracker in half with a satisfying pop. She squeaked and immediately dropped her end onto the table, scrambling about to collect the remains, before pushing them in his direction.
"I'm s-sorry, they just flew out, I didn't mean to break it-here-" she stuttered, cheeks flaming red.
"Hey, hey it's alright. It's meant to do that and you can keep them," He offered, amusement coating his voice. She stared at him like he had grown an extra head.
"You want me to keep them?"
"Yes, I've already got a whistle so it's hardly valuable to me."
She uncertainly took the pitiful remains, a plastic green whistle, an awful joke and a paper hat.
"Read the joke out," Jace said, putting on a pink paper hat. She nodded.
"Why did Santa's helper see the doctor?"
"I don't know, you tell me."
"Because he had low elf esteem…" She read with a frown.
"I swear they get worse every year." He commented, before unfolding the orange hat to put on Clary's head. She jumped when his hand came towards her head, but smiled apologetically when her fingers brushed the thin paper of the hat.
"Christmas Carol Time!" Jeff, head of the kitchen, announced cheerfully before launching into a raucous rendition of We Three Kings. Jace joined in, singing at the top of his lungs. They were only two songs in when he realized that Clarissa wasn't singing, he raised an eyebrow at her.
"Come on, sing, don't be shy," He encouraged her. She opened her mouth and murmured slightly. He was going to get her to sing louder when he came to the realization that she wasn't singing the right words and therefore probably didn't know them. He frowned in confusion for the hundredth time, why on earth does a teenager seem to know absolutely nothing about Christmas?
When it was time to leave, he saw her shiver and glance outside the windows into the cold, dark night. She tugged on her sleeves and kept her head down, muttering a quick 'thank you' to Jace as she left. He put his arm out to stop her, catching her upper arm. She flinched and looked up at him with fearful eyes.
"Do you have a place to stay?" He asked, worried for her wellbeing. She nodded.
"Do you want to go back?" he probed, trying to get some answers. She didn't answer him so he could only assume it as a no.
"Why didn't you spend Christmas with your family? Did they kick you out?"
Again she gave him the silent treatment. He sighed.
"At least take my coat, its cold," He suggested and swiftly swiped his coat from the back of the chair and onto her shoulders.
"I can't take that!" She argued, more animated than before, "It's yours!" she cried, pushing him and the coat away.
"Nonsense, I'm giving it to you, so it's yours now."
"But-"
"Take it,"
"I can't-"
"Think of it as a Christmas present."
She frowned up at him.
"But why would you want to give me one?" she asked, astonished. His heart skipped a little at her utter confusion, as if somebody giving her a present was unheard of.
"It's rude to refuse a Christmas present you know."
Her eyes flew a little wider and she took the coat from his hands, red faced.
"I-uh-I didn't mean to be rude-" she stammered, apologizing with the heavy coat clutched in her arms. Jace waved his hand aside.
"Don't worry about it, you weren't being rude,"
"But you said-?"
He shook his head.
"I was joking, I wanted you to accept my gift."
"Oh," she frowned. Again. His phone buzzed-a text from Maryse.
"Well, I should be going," he said. She nodded and started to walk with her head down to the exit. He hesitated and then called after her,
"Wait up!"
She froze and turned back, already holding the coat back out to him. He rolled his eyes.
"I'm going with you," he stated, gathering his bag from the table as she waited patiently for him. He shouldered his bag and walked over to her, waving goodbye to the rest of the staff before he headed out the door. Clarissa shivered as the cold air hit her and he almost rolled his eyes, but instead took the coat out of her hands and wrapped it around her, causing her to flinch but not protest.
"That's better," he claimed as she stumbled after him, wrapped up in his oversize coat. They walked in silence, Jace stuck his hands in his pocket and breathed out, cold vapor billowing out in front of him. The snow was falling in torrents, escaping down his neck despite the scarf. They reached a cross section to the park and turned.
"I live on 57th, do you live close round there?"
She shrugged.
"I guess," she answered, not really confirming Jace's question. He chose to let it slide. Clarissa always walked a pace behind him, even when he slowed to be next to her she was a fraction behind. She looked unexplainably cute, huddled up in his thick, oversized trench coat. Her cheeks slowly turning red from the cold.
"So-" he said, just as she blurted out, "You smell good,"
Immediately she blanched, looking down to the floor, cheeks turning redder from embarrassment.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. Or say that."
He smiled.
"I don't mind. It's nice to know that I smell good, you could've said I smelt like rotten cabbages,"
She nodded, the preview of a real smile on her lips.
"My grandma really does smell like rotten cabbages though," he added on. She laughed a little but then stopped, making Jace disappointed. He wanted her to laugh.
"Sorry, that was rude," she muttered, "I didn't mean to laugh at your grandma's smell."
"It's okay, Clarissa. Really, I'm not offended by you laughing," he replied honestly and added as an afterthought. "It's nice to hear you laugh though, you have a nice laugh,"
She raised both her eyebrows.
"Really?"
"Well yeah,"
"I always thought I had a bad laugh, like a dying cat."
"Who told you that?"
She shrugged, but her eyes flashed a little with hurt.
"No-one," she muttered. He let it go, although it was obviously someone. Silence pursued as they rounded a corner.
"Why-" she started at the same time he said, "Can-"
"Sorry," they both apologized at the same time. Jace shared a smile with her that he was ecstatic that she returned. She gestured for him to continue.
"Can I call you something else? Like a nickname?" he asked.
"O-okay...?"
"Clarissa is a bit of a mouthful. It's a beautiful name sure, but I think…" he paused to muse over her name, making sure he chose the perfect combination, "Clary. Yeah, Clary suits you."
"Clary?" she replied, testing the name out.
"You don't like it?"
"No. No, I really like it. It's just…"
"Just what?"
"I've never had a nickname before," she admitted.
"Never?"
She shook her head
"Never ever?"
"Well…I mean I have been called Freak-"
"You're not," he blurted, actually feeling his own cheeks flush. "Sebastian is an idiot. Anyone who calls you that is an idiot."
She looked down, shrugging her shoulders slightly.
"Hot chocolate anyone?" A man hollered from a cart, "$3 a cup,"
Jace looked to him and smiled, walking over to the cart, hopeful for some hot chocolate.
"Why not? Want some, Clary?" Jace asked her, drawing the cart man's attention to her.
"Oh, hello red. Not sleeping out there again are you?" he asked her, kindly enough. Jace glanced at her, her ears were red with shame and she kept her eyes fixated on the ground to avoid his disapproving gaze.
"Sleeping out there again?" he asked out loud.
"Aye. Gave you about four cuppers' last night, was it?" He addressed Clary. She looked up briefly.
"Five," she corrected. "Thank you for them…and the blankets and-"
"Don't mention it. It's all Christmas spirit, can't have a young lass such as yourself getting frostbite on Christmas Eve." He said and looked at Jace again, a curious but fierce look directed toward him which Jace couldn't discern.
"Two hot chocolates and two mince pies on me," the man announced, turning around to work the machine.
"But sir, I can pay," Jace said, not wanting to rob the man of his money. He glanced up from the drinks machine.
"You can pay me by making sure she goes back home tonight, get her back into the warm indoors."
He glanced back at Clary, who was huddled into his coat and now glaring at the ground.
"I will, sir," Jace promised.
"Good," he affirmed, placing his generous offer on the counter.
"Thank you, Michael," Clary said quietly before taking her own drink.
"Take care of yourself kiddo," he waved them goodbye. Once they were out of ear shot he turned to her.
"You slept out here last night!?" He asked, shocked and slightly angry that she'd be so reckless. She didn't deny it. "It's not safe!" he argued. She didn't reply.
"You're not ever doing it again," he scolded her, feeling as though her safety rested in his palms. A girl as fragile as Clary could not be left unprotected. She looked up, gazing this time into his eyes with new found helplessness, but still, there was some stubbornness there too.
"But he locked me out!" she cried resolutely. "I had nowhere else to go!"
"It's Christmas! Why did 'he' lock you out?"
She shrugged.
"It was my fault," she reasoned.
"Next time it happens, the angel forbid. You go to my house," she opened her mouth to argue. "No. It's final and do you even have a key? Can you get back?"
"No, but my mom should be home."
He sighed, deeply concerned for her wellbeing, he would wrap her up in his arms and take her home if he could. His feelings were most certainly rash and hurried, she was still a mere stranger.
She sighed and glanced up to a house. He followed her gaze and realized that they had already reached his house. You could hear the Lightwoods laughing and the TV blaring out even from where they stood.
"You'll be alright?" he asked. She nodded and continued down the street. He stopped her by the arm.
"Merry Christmas, Clary."
"Merry Christmas, Jace," she whispered back and turned away. Jace watched as she disappeared up the path, perhaps to her home, but maybe not.
He hoped she would be okay.