Chapter Six:

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I came early from work that day since I had a date. I met a guy at a conference the week before, and he seemed to be a good person. So when he asked me out for dinner today, I accepted.

It had been almost two weeks, and I'd begun to feel lonely, without John dropping in and out. I didn't know where he was, or what he was doing out there – but I just – I don't know, his not being around as much as before had begun to become noticeable to be, and -

Well, maybe it was bothering me.

Anyway, it was kind of a pleasant surprise to be asked out – people normally don't consider me social enough maybe, but I don't get asked out so much.

I wanted to go for an early dinner, because I didn't know the person very well, and wanted to leave a chance for reviving my night if the dinner went badly.

I think I did well in doing that, because it turned out, the dinner escalated into me privately wishing myself home.

And even after he had dropped me home, he insisted on walking me to my door, in a way that made me highly uncomfortable. I had grown rather exasperated now, and I had decided to shove manners under the carpet and bang the door in his face if he kept being pushy.

As it turned out, I didn't need to do anything at all.

I lead him to the stairwell – and when we got to my floor, I found a figure leaning on my door – and I was never happier to see John Reese in my life. No, not even when he saved my life.

Hey, Clary.

John moved forward to hug me. He had never hugged me.

Hello, John. When did you get here?

Just a few minutes ago. I was about to call you.

Um…

Never mind. Who's this fine man?

John turned towards my date and put his hand on my shoulder.

I introduced him to John. And – this is John, um, my, friend.

I clearly remember the expression - my date, looked quite flabbergasted, and I could understand why. John was an intimidating sort of person, and at that moment he was giving that guy all of his pointed attention so that my date began to feel very self-conscious. I would have pitied him, had he not put me through an ordeal of boredom and awkwardness earlier.

So, good night then. I said.

He mumbled a good night, and walked to the stairwell – and then I think he fled.

I laughed a little as the fast pitter-patter of his feet got dim, and I leaned into John, unconsciously. I realized it immediately, and I stood up straight. He took his hand off, and quietly waited for me to fish out my home keys from my purse.

So, bad date?

The worst, really.

Pompous, self-obsessed, chatty?

Yes! How did you-?

I heard your conversation in the stairwell.

That is why you glowered at him so much?

Is it called glowering these days?

Well, whatever it's called, it was much needed. He was – well, he's not a bad sort of fellow, but he behaves as if he's an old fellow seen the world already!

At this point, I happen to glance at John's face and see a strange expression.

After all, John isn't exactly a "young" man. You never really notice his age, because his silver hair suits him, his physique is lithe and supple, and he's always so – well, manly. I don't know what to call it, but you see him and you know he moves fast. Or at least I know.

That day I saw John in a completely different light. It's like growing up; we were in kindergarten, then primary school – and all of a sudden it's the high school prom, and the boy who always sat beside you, walks in the auditorium in a suit. He- he isn't just a boy anymore.

I didn't really know what to do with this sudden realization that day.

I invited John in, and he sat on the sofa, while I changed. We were so quiet, neither of us saying anything when I caught John looking at me.

It was a heavy moment – in the sense it was filled, with what, I don't know. But in it, I gazed at him, and he gazed at me.

And after a few moments, John stood up.

I have to leave.

What, now?

Yes.

We stand there, looking at each other, wordlessly.

Then he moves towards the door, and I follow.

Will you be back?

I don't know.

Okay, then. I'll see you.

He walked towards the stairwell, and then suddenly comes back.

Sure. I'll see you.

He said that, and then – he leans in towards me, and lands a soft, but firm peck on my cheek.

I stand there, bewildered, looking at his retreating figure.

What was he thinking? Why did he turn back?

Those two questions my mind kept asking the whole night, as I tossed and turned, never able to sleep. I think I was half-hoping that John would return.

There was something strange in his expression as he had leaned into me, and it scared me, moved me – it moved inside my heart like a piece of ice, cold and sharp.

I spent the whole night thinking about him, and I realized that I had never truly seen John Reese until today. How had I missed those eyes, which spoke before he did? His whole manner, which relaxed as he walked in through the door of my home, and stiffened as he walked out?

Did John Reese like me?

I had till today never bothered to question him or myself about why he comes to my home. I had assumed it was just about having some company. But now –

And then my mind asked me:

Do you like John Reese?

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