The moment his lips parted to utter the name 'Clary', she came to a sudden halt, her body becoming still as though caught in a spell. Leandre sought nothing more than her confirmation, and he found it in the way she froze. Clary turned her head slowly, her eyes locking onto his playful gaze. In his hand, he held a bottle of Clary sage essential oil. Clary's heart raced as she tried to decipher whether he was calling her name or merely murmuring the name of the oil.
Leandre's lips curved into a mischievous smile as he spun the bottle in his hand, his gaze trained on Clary's frozen form. "To make you stop dead in your tracks like this," He mused. "I can't help but wonder, is Clary your name, Clary?" His words held a playful edge, teasing her with the possibility that he knew the answer to the question he posed.