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Chapter 50

A silence had settled over the bedroom and for a long while, John didn't mind it at all. An odd sense of tranquillity mingled with all the thoughts that were trying to push through inside his head, but none of it mattered when he remembered the woman in his arms. Absent-mindedly, John stroked the bare skin of her arm, trying to think about how soft it was instead of why she had fallen silent and what might be going through her mind. And yet the thoughts kept niggling away at him. Was she alright? Did she regret it? John knew that he would never be able to feel regret over this wonderful evening, but he wasn't quite so certain about Clara.

The truth was that he had secretly hoped for this moment, but he hadn't dared actually dream about it and now that she was lying in his arms, John was certain that he didn't want to let her go. He had missed the sensation of someone next to him, their naked bodies pressed together under the sheets, more than anything else – even more than what they had done ten minutes ago. After years of trying hard to ignore what he had been feeling, John could finally pin it down as loneliness. He had felt lonely and the possibility of that coming to an end made his heart skip a beat.

Eventually, his curiosity and his concern won over and he turned his head to look at Clara. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling and she appeared to be deep in thought. "Are you alright?" John asked cautiously, his voice no more than a whisper.

For a long moment, Clara didn't reply at all. Then, she nodded softly. A weight dropped off his shoulders, yet, it didn't quite satisfy his curiosity. Something was bothering her, otherwise, she wouldn't be that quiet.

"Do you regret it?"

Again, she hesitated and John could feel the heaviness return as he feared the worst. In his head, he saw himself slipping back into loneliness if Clara decided she didn't want to be with him after all. Yet she turned her head and looked straight at him with big, sad eyes. Even though he tried very hard, he couldn't find regret in them after all. There was sadness and guilt, but no trace of regret.

"No," she replied eventually and granted him a soft smile. "It was wonderful. iYou/i were wonderful."

A sudden surge of pride rose up inside of him and John tried his best to suppress it, knowing that it was anything but the right moment to show off. The smile slowly faded from her lips and her face took on a more sombre impression.

"I can't talk about it," Clara admitted eventually, followed by a heavy sigh. She attempted to turn her back on him, hiding her face, but John held her back, wrapping his arms so tightly around her that she was forced to look at him no matter how hard she was trying to avoid his gaze.

He knew exactly what it was about. He had been where Clara was now and he thought that he could help her if only she let him.

"Because talking about it makes it real," he added, his voice soft and kind. "And you don't want it to be. Because you're not ready."

Clara bit down on her lip, but it was obvious that he had hit the bull's eye of her feelings.

"I want it," she replied carefully, "and I don't."

John couldn't help himself. He chuckled softly. "Trust me, I know," he told her earnestly. "I was the same after River. I know what it feels like to try to move on and yet still want to cling to the person you loved. It's frustrating and scary and you wish you could either turn back time or jump forward to the point where it's going to be okay."

"It's not just that-"

John didn't hear her out, he just reached for her hand and lifted it to place a soft kiss on her knuckles. It solicited a smile from her that lit up his heart. All of a sudden, John felt so confident that it was going to be okay because he had been in her shoes before. It had worked out for him eventually. "Whatever it is, I understand," he said and he meant it. "I know it takes time and I don't mind."

A few small lines appeared on her forehead as she frowned.

"I don't mind waiting until you're ready," John promised her. There was so much more that he wanted to say, so much he wanted to confess. He had fallen in love so deeply and so madly and he wanted to tell her that, but the words just wouldn't come. John had never been the type to openly talk about his feelings and maybe he should make an exception and tell her right here and now, but something stopped him like it always did. It occurred to him that maybe that was why it had never worked out between him and the women he loved, but John vowed that this time, it would be different. With Clara, he could make it work. He just had to try.

"Are you saying-"

Again, John didn't wait for her to finish and he didn't say anything either because he knew that whatever words were going to come out of his mouth, they could never fully express what he was feeling, so he just leaned forward and pressed a long, soft kiss to her mouth. When their lips parted, John couldn't help but notice the look of gratitude on Clara's face.

"This thing between us, there's no hurry," he told her. "What matters most is that we figure out everything else. We'll put Ciaran O'Neill behind bars, we'll make sure that he can no longer hurt you. Anything else can wait until after. We have all the time in the world."

In return, Clara smiled at him, but it was one of her sad smiles that he had yet to fully understand. "Thank you," she whispered gently.

For a moment, John didn't pay attention and he loosened his embrace. Clara turned around in bed and he was afraid that she would get up and leave. He was aware that he had just promised her to wait until she was ready to move on from Danny, whenever that might be, but he had hoped to hold her for just one night before she slipped from his grasp again. Yet to his surprise, Clara didn't get up. Instead, she just moved to find a more comfortable position as she nestled her body against his. Maybe she wanted to be in his company tonight just as much as he wanted to be in hers, so John, in a surge of bravery, closed his arm around her from behind and rested his head next to hers. Clara didn't protest.

"Goodnight," he said softly, whispering into her ear.

"Goodnight."

John didn't mind the wait as long as, at the end of it, he could hold her like that every single night.