Disclaimer: I, am the Red Reaper, not the lovely, entertaining Cassandra Clare who owns the Mortal Intruments
Chapter two: The Ox-Bow Bend
Power walking along the street, Clary tried to find some peace. She just wanted to forget this afternoon completely. She felt...miserable. Still crying, she took out her mp3 player and put on some music that matched her mood. Soon after, she realised that she just didn't feel up to going home yet, and they didn't expect her back until later, so she decided to head for her ox-bow bend.
Clary perked up as she cut through several back allies, and managed to stop crying altogether when she saw grey crowds overhead. She suddenly had the urge to put 'why does it always rain on me' on, except that she liked the weather 'rain', and felt it would insult it, even though rain was inanimate. A cold breeze swept across the street she was walking on, and she shivered, noticing it as a sign of the rain to come.
As the river came in sight, Clary sighed in relief. It looked breath-taking as usual, and despite the strong currents, she longed to wade through it. She frowned. It was looking rather dark right now though. As she thought of other places Clary felt struck by a thought. It felt strange, but she tried the question out in her mind. Do most big cities have a river running through them?
Edinburgh, London, Manhattan, Paris, Florence to name only a few, and Clary wondered if there were any without a river. It would be nice to travel and find out, she thought wistfully.
After make several turns and climbing up some streets away from the river front, were the more decent buildings were, Clary entered a rougher neighbourhood, well, she couldn't speak from experience, but it looked more dilapidated than other streets she roamed. This neighbourhood was higher up and after snaking her way through she finally reached her ox-bow bend.
It was like her own private cove, which the river wove round. (A oxbow bend is a term used in geography - it is a bend in the river which over time, the river cuts through by erosion, creating a new, straighter path.) There was a high bit that stuck out slightly so the river was below, but to the side of this mini-cliff was a steep sand bank, which was dangerous when it had been raining lots, but it lead to the water where there was a large flat boulder. Clary had often sat on it in peace, staring out at the water.
She found her rock, turned off her mp3player and sat on it just before it started to spit light drops of rain. Sitting cross legged, her back straight, she stared out at the swirling river and slowed her breathing. She started to breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth, and after several minutes her pulse had slowed considerably. She heard the loud grating of bushes whipping something, and realised the wind must be getting up, she tried to attached herself to the rock through pure mind force, unaware that if it was windy it wouldn't have worked, and unaware it wasn't actually the wind. Rather a golden-haired stranger. He sat at the top of the steep bank and wrapped his arms around his knees, watching Clary's red hair sway in the breeze.
He suddenly felt a pang and wished he could draw, and as he thought this he felt shocked, he had never wanted too, and it felt strange to want to now.
Clary, (still meditating on the rock) suddenly felt like she wasn't alone. You're never alone, a voice in her head reminded her, but it wasn't that. Paranoid, Clary thought that she'd better check that she didn't have company. Coming out of the trance, she turned her head and met a pair of golden eyes. Her instincts sang to her, the one time you weren't going to check and we were right – someone was there and so inwardly she congratulated herself for trusting her instincts.
Clary wondered what he was doing here. He had been very angry before, but, he didn't look angry now. Sighing, she stood up and moved cautiously over to him, deciding not to sit in the wet sand beside him.
There was an awkward silence.
Clary decided to stare out at the river, but couldn't keep her gaze there for long, it kept on being drawn back to the handsome man sat before her, large muscular arms wrapped around jean-clad legs, and golden hair almost shining out in the greyness of the afternoon.
If I were to paint him, Clary thought with her artist eye, I would paint him with the only colour, the background would be washed out or grey and he would be the only bright, vibrant thing in the picture.
"I wanted to apologise." Clary's brain stalled as she tried to change gears unsuccessfully.
"Pardon...?" She managed to splutter.
"I'm sorry." He stood up and suddenly Clary felt tiny, he towered over her. He seemed to realise this too, and walked forwards down the steep bank so he was at eye level with her.
"I was a bit harsh earlier on, and I really didn't mean to make you cry-" Clary put up a hand to stop him, realisation dawning.
"That wasn't you fault, I was, I am, very tired, and...stressed. It just got a bit too much. I'm the one who is sorry, I didn't mean to inconvenience you so." He just stood and stared making Clary suddenly feel uncomfortable.
"I've never made a girl cry before." Clary let out a bitter laugh before she could stop it, looking out to the river as she responded.
"I doubt that." The golden-haired stranger took the chance to look at Clary while she was looking away. Her green eyes, looked hurt and angry, and her mouth was set, as though she was keeping it shut – and preventing herself from saying something else, her red-hair seemed to mock him, screaming danger, stay away and at the same time drew him in. She was beautiful, he realised, even though she was upset, she was beautiful.
As she turned her gaze on him, his breathing hitched. Her eyes were filled with pain, mistrust, and frustration and her shoulders slumped, betraying her stress, and without understanding why, he suddenly felt stressed himself. You don't even know her! He thought to himself angrily, but to no avail. A more serene voice replied: I just want to help her; I just want to take the pain away.
"I'm Jace." He heard himself say, and then felt himself hold out his hand. The pain was overcome by a bemused look in her eyes, and a smile twitched her lips. She slowly put out her hand and shook it.
"And I'm Clary...Jace." Clary saw him nod and couldn't quite figure him out, but she seemed to forget it, when it began to rain harder, more seriously. Why is it, Clary thought to herself, that when it rains and I'm by myself I have a fine time enjoying it, but when I'm with other people it just seems like a plain inconvenience?
She noticed that...Jace only wore a blue t-shirt, he didn't have a coat. And she suddenly felt ashamed.
Here this strange man is, apologising for me crying because he thought he thought he upset me, after trailing after me all the way here, and is standing in the rain, while I glare and speak rudely to him.
"You must be cold, I'll show you out of here, come, it's quite a maze at first." Jace followed obediently.
Clary and Jace stumbled out onto the street with dilapidated buildings, Jace falling into step beside Clary.
"Would you like to have dinner with me?" The words were out of Jace's mouth before he knew he thought them, but even as he said them he knew he didn't regret them, instead he pressed on. "It's the least I can do for upsetting you." He saw in the corner of his eye that Clary was forming a refusal, and added quickly,
"I know you say it wasn't me, but, I feel responsible in part. It's the least I can do." He paused before adding, "Please."
"I..." Clary was unable to help herself, paused fatefully, and looked at him. It was her undoing. She tried to smile convincingly.
"That would be...cool." He nodded briskly, suddenly turning all business like.
"Though I have a request."
"Name it."
"Nothing somewhere too fancy, I'd feel bad, besides I have larger portions, posh places do seem to serve smaller servings even though it's more expensive..." Clary trailed off suddenly feeling like she had committed a big faux pax. But when she looked at Jace, he smiled at her appreciatively.
"A woman after my own heart." And Clary though he said it genuinely, almost as if he was convinced himself...she caught herself looking at him, and turned to face straight ahead. Clary, she spoke sternly to herself, stop over thinking! Calm.
As they made their way along the street it began to rain more heavily.