It's very ... manly. ( Which seems like a ridiculous thing to say, but she can't think of anything else. There's something bold about it, something uncaring in its masculinity, and she's half willing her cheeks not to burn when her gaze lingers on the bed just out in the open. ) Not even a hint of hard wood, so really not like the Institute at all. ( Realising the double entendre of her words means she instantly loses the battle with her blush, looking away and to the window. Clary moves, slowly, pacing out the place, but his words pull her back and she looks over her shoulder, mouth softer. )

I'm glad you're here too.

( Because she is. She likes him being where she can find him. Every time they get pulled away from each other it feels like something's missing. Despite everything they've been through, Clary feels a lot more herself when he's there. )

I think it's nice. This place, the apartments. ( Her fingers drift over the edges of a shelf, still exploring. ) It's not home, but it's not terrible either.

( She frowns, stops walking, looks over to him. Her words come out in a rush, like they've just hit her themselves. ) You know, I feel guilty. That I said yes? I know they can help me, but at the same time I feel like maybe I've run away and I shouldn't have. I feel guilty that I'm relieved, because no one is going to knock that door now and tell me someone else has died because of me. I feel guilty because I'm happy you're here too, that I'm not alone, that we get to talk. ( Crossing her arms over her chest, the confession strange in her mouth. ) I've been so afraid, lately. And now there's no reason to be, at least, not right now. I don't know what to do with it.

( She laughs, but it's weak. ) It's really dumb, right?