Clara awoke early the next morning, finding the flat empty.
She figured it was her own fault, as she stepped inside the shower, letting the warm water wash away her pain.
John had popped out and came right back to Clara's flat, holding a bag of food. Whilst she was in the shower, he made her pancakes and a bowl of strawberries with whipped cream and a glass of orange juice. He set the plates down on the table and waited for her to emerge from her bedroom as he made himself toast.
Clara walked out in nothing but a long oversized shirt, she didn't realise John was there until she saw the back of his curly head, 'You're still here?' she said, between confused and glad.
A soft smile crossed her lips as she noticed the trouble he'd gone to making her breakfast, Matt had never been one to do that for her. She sat down and took a sip of her orange juice, watching John carefully.
John nodded and sent her a smile over his shoulder, 'I hope you don't mind,' he murmured, turning around to rest his back against the counter, eating his slice of toast.
'I wasn't sure what you liked, so I just got you a bit of everything,'
Clara sent him a soft smile, her dimple noticeable as she nodded in agreement, 'It's perfect, thank you,' she mused, letting her gaze linger over his face. He definitely didn't look his age.
He nodded and pointed to her food, a smile on his face, 'Dig in,' John told her, turning around to face the sink as he washed up his plates and made himself busy.
It was as if he was trying not to look at her, trying to ignore the deep feeling he felt whenever he looked at her. Clara noticed his aversion to looking at her, maybe he found her just as sick as she felt. How could she have done this? She stood and simply walked over to her purse, drawing the money she owed him before walking up to him.
'I always pay my favours,' she told him, handing John the money, 'I know you can't stand to look at me, but have you thought about how I feel?' she murmured, taking a few steps forward.
'You don't think I feel guilty? My relationship is broken, I should be upset because of it, but I'm not…'
She flapped her arms to the side when he simply gave her a confused stare, 'I'm not in love with Matt!'
John slowly nodded, inhaling sharply as he set the money down and shot her a look. It wasn't a look of judgement, but rather a look of 'I already knew that' he sighed and stepped closer to Clara, his hand brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.
'I knew that from the moment you slept with me, even if I didn't actually know you were my son's girlfriend…'
Clara closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, truth was no matter how hard she tried to forget John, she couldn't, 'John, please… I'm not his girlfriend, not since last night,'
She should be happy, but she knew that John and she could never be together, if Matt found out it would break his heart even more to know she slept with his father.
He sighed and wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug, his body pressed against hers, 'I'm sorry…' John murmured into her hair, enjoying the way she smelt, the way she said his name.
He wanted nothing more than to kiss her, tell her she was his, but he couldn't. She was his son's.
John took a deep breath, pulling back to look Clara in the eye, 'You need to talk to him, just sit down and talk, and if you really can't be with him anymore, then that's okay. Either way, it will be fine, I promise you.'
Clara gazed into his eyes, her hand cupping his face, 'Don't you see? I don't want him,' she murmured, her thumb brushing against his bottom lip.
'I haven't been able to be with him since… I want you,' she sighed, her heart racing. Her gaze faltered to her feet as she held onto him.
John swallowed roughly, his mouth open as his breathing came out uneven and callous, 'I…' he trailed off and before he could stop himself, or say anything that would kick the rational thought back into Clara, he bent down and kissed her with all the passion he could master, his teeth dragging out her bottom lip.
Clara's breathing hitched as she let out a ragged and raspy moan. She knew she should stop him, in case Matt had the idea of coming back into her flat, but she couldn't find the words nor the will power to push him away. She gasped as he lifted her and sat her on the kitchen counter, her legs instantly spread to accommodate him as she kissed him back with just as much force. His hands gripped at her, trying to take her clothes off as his mouth still worked against hers, teeth clattering together with how clumsy and desperate they were becoming. After a few seconds, John managed to take Clara's blouse off, both of his hands reaching down to unbutton her jeans as he continued to kiss her, their lips never parting away from each other's.
Clara groaned as she struggled with his buttons, but ultimately managed to undress him. Her breathing came out ragged as she watched him, his hands all over her body. John panted heavily, unable to stop himself from just looking at her, appreciating every curve of her body. He couldn't get enough of her, she was perfect and now all of sudden, this wasn't just sex anymore. He bent to cup her cheeks, a gentle smirk on his face as he unbuckled his belt and dropped it, his boxers following shortly after. Once he pushed Clara's jeans down and got off her knickers, he was inside of her, his hand slamming down on the kitchen counter.
Clara bit onto her flip, her knuckles turning white as she held onto the edge of the table, 'John…' she moaned breathlessly, her voice filled with want as she looked at him.
For a moment, it was just them. No guilt, no regret, just them joined together.
His lips brushed against hers, nodding his head as if it was a silent confirmation that this was okay – he didn't mind, he would deal with the consequences – John took a deep breath and buried his face into her neck, panting heavily as his hands cupped her ass and pushed her body towards his, they seemed to fit together perfectly.
Clara held onto his shoulders, her hips rolling in time with his as she kissed along his neck, her hand exploring every muscle along his back. She moaned as he tilted his thrust, hitting a sensitive spot, 'I need you…' she said truthfully, he'd become like a drug, an addiction she didn't want to leave.
John nodded, growling under his breath as his knuckles pressed hard against the kitchen counter, thrusting inside of her until he could feel her thighs shaking. He smirked, his voice in her ear, 'Are you close, Clara?' he whispered, rolling the 'R' in her name on purpose.
Clara whimpered as she bit her bottom lip. He knew what his accent did to her, what effect it had on her, 'Harder, faster…' she murmured, biting along his neck as her hands threaded into the still few dark curls he had.
Clara urged him on, her heels digging into his backside. She was too enthralled in John, in bringing him with her over the edge. Flashbacks of a month ago ran through his mind, of her heels digging into his back, how good it felt to feel her scratch over his shoulders and back, he couldn't quite believe it was happening again and now the guilt was setting in. John only slammed into her harder until he came with a quiet groan, spilling inside of her as he placed lazy kisses over her chest.
Clara came instantly with his name on her lips, her hands cupping his face as she held him whilst her body trembled, she knew there was no way she could go back now. She'd choose him over anyone, any day.
Flashback – 17th April 2005
At first, Clara didn't even want to go to grief counselling. She was doing just fine on her own, wasn't she? She had her friends, she had Nina, she was okay.
Aside from the nightmares and the occasional mental breakdown, she was fine.
Okay, now she understood why her father wanted her to attend this stupid counselling group. She looked around the circle of mostly teenagers, and people a little older than her, including the prat who ran this shitfest. Chris was half bald, his shirt always tucked in and he spoke with such a thick Yorkshire accent that Clara could barely understand, even if she was from Lancashire. She slumped her bag down by her feet, her arms folded over her chest as the strands of her auburn hair fell over her face, she was more than irritated by this group of people than her father and that was saying something. To her left, sat Rebecca, a twenty something chav with greasy blonde hair, eyes too small for her face and marks down her arms that suggested she was a heroin addict. To Clara's right, sat the 'weird girl' of the group, she must have been only a few years older than Clara, around eighteen and she was covered in burns that made it look as if she had scales.
Clara didn't judge, she didn't care about her 'disfigurement' but the girl was bloody weird and a little psychotic.
Opposite Clara sat a redhead with incredible legs, who always complained about not having parents and having to live with her Aunt. And next to the redhead sat Rory, a sandy haired boy who was just there for Amy, because the redhead always refused to sit down unless he was with her, at first, Clara just assumed Rory was her gay best friend or her brother, but turns out it was her very love sick boyfriend.
Poor sod.
Clara looked to the other side of Amy and Rory, to find a young girl with short blonde hair, an annoyingly beaming smile and her inability to sit still. That was Rose, always optimistic and insisting she didn't have problems – that she could handle it. Clara could relate with the blonde at least, she was optimistic that this would be her one and only session. Now that she thought about it, Clara didn't really know why Rose was her. She didn't seem to have anything wrong with her…
A chair next to her scraped along the floor, starling Clara from her thoughts.
She turned her head and scoffed, great, another sad nut case she had to listen to in their 'circle of trust' as Chris called it. She had to admit, the guy was as handsome as Brad Pitt, but she strictly onto wanted friends – not that she had come here to make friends – but nevertheless, relationships were not her thing, not since Nina. The guy next to her had to be around her age, probably about seventeen. He had an insanely long chin, emerald green eyes and floppy brown hair that fell over his face. He didn't have any spots, which surprised her, most teenaged boys had spots. He was wearing a casual shirt and a hoodie over the top of it, he must have been boiling in the dark jeans he was wearing. She could deal with this, he looked normal, not like an out of control nut case like the rest of them.
Clara could sense him staring at her and whilst Chris was too busy talking about himself, she turned to look at him, 'Could you stop staring at me? I can see that overly large chin out of the corner of my eye and it's pretty irritating,'
The boy snorted, his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, 'She talks instead of judging everyone from a distance, what a shocker,'
Clara scoffed, 'Of course I talk, jackass. Now, get your chin out of my view before I throw my chair at you,'
'Oh, great, it's a violent one. Is that what you're here for, anger issues?'
She looked away from him, her jaw clenching, 'Piss off, Chin Boy.'
'Sure,' he shrugged, standing up from his chair.
Clara turned her head, a little bit confused about what he was exactly doing. What was wrong with this kid? He dragged his chair to the opposite side of the room, everyone staring at him and even Chris looked a little pissed off, crossing his arms over his chest and licking his top lip like he always did when somebody pissed him off.
'Are you quite done, Matthew?' Chris snapped and the boy dropped himself onto the chair, one leg stuck out and the very bottom of his back firmly planted into the seat.
Wow, this guy was going to get on her nerves, she could already tell.
'So everyone,' Chris announced in his highly annoying accent, 'We're going to go round in a circle and tell everyone's story at once,'
'Great,' mumbled Clara, rolling her eyes when Chris shot her a glare.
Chris turned his seat to face the skittish blonde, 'Okay, Rose, would you like to go first?'
Rose audibly swallowed and gave everyone a stare before she opened her mouth, pulling on the sleeves of her cardigan, 'Um, I'm Rose. I'm twenty one, and a few years ago a man abducted me and I developed Stockholm Syndrome, that's what my mum said, anyway.'
Clara's ears suddenly perked up, leaning forward in her seat, 'Sorry – what? You were abducted? I haven't heard that in the news, did they find you pretty quickly, is that why nobody noticed?'
Chris raised his voice at her, 'Don't be so insensitive, Clara,'
At the mention of her name, Chin Boy stared right at her again. Oh, brilliant, now he wasn't going to stop pestering her.
Rose shook her head, picking at her sleeves that already had quite big holes in them, 'No, no… It's fine, Chris, I – um, I loved him.'
'You loved your abductor? Yeah, your mum's probably right about that Stockholm Syndrome,' sighed Amy, her green eyes stuck on the ceiling, she seemed as bored and as out of place as Clara felt.
Rose took a deep breath, 'I loved him… He was my best friend, called himself The Doctor,'
Clara seemed to take further interest in Rose's story, 'He called himself The Doctor? Why? What's that all about?'
There was an uncomfortable silence around the room.
Chin Boy stood up, his chair scraping along the floor as he clapped his hands together, 'I'm Matthew Robert Song, son of the famous Doctor John Smith and the Archaeologist River Song and well, you all know what happened to my mother,' he sighed, slumping back down into his chair.
Clara didn't.
When the pregnant girl, Rebecca, started to talk, Clara lent across to the weird girl who's name she couldn't remember, 'Oi, you,' she whispered, trying to get her attention.
The girl hissed at her, her brown eyes lit with a certain type of anger, 'What?'
'Chin Boy, what happened to his mother?'
'My name is Vastra, thanks for asking,' snapped the weird girl, looking over to Matt who seemed to be day dreaming, 'Haven't you heard?'
Clara shook her head.
'Matt's the son of that famous couple, you know, the two Doctors who jumped down a cliff to save a little girl, they were all over the news. Except, people believe John pushed River down the cliff and saved the little girl instead, but John's insisting she slipped.'
Clara stared at her, 'And did she?'
'Do I look like a cop?'
Clara shrugged, 'You could be, in the future, if you stay alive that long that is, you look like you're about to top yourself,' she sighed, slapping Vastra's arm before she remembered the burns, 'Sorry about that. Uh, thanks for the info, appreciate it,'
Vastra simply nodded.
End of Flashback
Clara snapped from her trance, her decision final. Matt had changed, he wasn't the man she knew anymore, the man she had first met, even if he was a bit of an ass at first. Now, he was just an ass full stop, she knew things about him that John didn't.
'What are we going to do? Keep it a secret?'
John swallowed roughly, carefully slipping out of her but he simply landed on top of her, his voice in her ear, 'We can carry this on, as a secret…' he murmured, hoping she would take the hint to at least try with Matt, even if it didn't work out.
But he wasn't exactly saying they should stop seeing each other, this was just the beginning of an affair.
Clara nodded and wrapped her arms around him, 'I'm not going back to Matt, but I don't want him to know… About this,' she said honestly, brushing back the curls from his face.
A soft smile passed her lips as she took in the sight of him, he truly was handsome, his eyes as blue as the inside of a diamond, and equally mysterious.
He nodded, scoffing as he tried to lighten the mood, 'Funnily enough, neither do I,' he smiled at her touch and once she dropped her hands from him, he pulled on his boxers and trousers, buckling his belt.
'But… Just speak to him, okay, Clara? Get him to understand,'
Clara arched her eyebrow and frowned as he buckled his trousers. Was it still just sex for him? Clara cleared her throat as she too stood and redressed, 'Understand what? That I'm fucking his father?'
John stopped to stare at her, just managing to pull his shirt on, 'Understand where you're coming from. You know, you could just be getting cold feet. Maybe you do love him, just see how it goes after you've spoken to him. Okay? Don't make any quick decisions?'
Clara frowned, 'Is that what you want? Me to love him?' she questioned him.
Was he just playing with her?
'Okay, I will…'
He smiled, although it was a fake one, of course he didn't want Clara to leave him and go back to his son, but he had no choice. It would break Matt to lose her.
John took a deep breath and pulled on his shirt, 'I'll see you in a few days, change my number to somebody you and Matt know, so he doesn't suspect anything,'
Clara inhaled sharply and nodded, trying to ignore the knot forming in her throat as she watched him leave. A couple of days passed when Clara reached out to Matt, her heart ached as her stomach turned, waiting for him outside of his flat.
Matt let the flat, a full beard grown as he shoved his hands into his pockets, 'Clara,' he murmured, his emerald eyes on her.
He took out a lighter and a cigarette, offering one to her, 'Do you want one?'
Clara noticed his sudden difference in appearance, but chose to ignore it. She simply shook her head at the cigarette he offered, 'No, thank you. Since when do you smoke?' she asked, walking aimlessly.
She looked at him in wonderment, wondered what he was thinking, wondered how things would play out.
He stared at her, his eyes full of love for his Clara, 'I – um,' Matt cleared his throat and smoked the rest of his cigarette, 'It's good to see you again, I didn't think I'd get the chance,'
Clara shoved her hands into her pockets as she walked alongside him, 'I tried calling, texting, but you never answered,' she began, continuing to walk near a coffee shop.
'Matt – I'm sorry for what I did,'
Matt nodded, inhaling sharply, 'I needed some time,' he simply told her, but didn't elaborate further, 'Are you sure you're sorry?' he asked her, his voice level and calm.
Clara stopped and took hold of his forearm, 'Of course I am… I shouldn't have done it, but I think it served to show me how I feel about you,' she said, raising her gaze to meet his.
'I love you Matt, and I care about you, but…'
Matt shook his head, his jaw clenching as he held up his hand, 'Don't,' he warned her, his voice stern.
He took a step closer to her, his lips brushing against hers, 'I'll be better, I promise, Clara. I won't work so much, I'll make you my top priority, please… Just give us one more chance, you made a mistake.'
Clara closed her eyes, she could break it off, but it seemed as if John only wanted her for sex whilst Matt wanted a life with her. She inhaled sharply as her hands shook in his, 'From this day forward, I promise I won't make any more mistakes… I'll give us another try,' she said, wrapping her arms around him.
'Forgive me?'