and so it seems that i will love her
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: G
Genre: General
Pairing: Twelve/Clara
Word Count: 201
Summary: He thought he saw her in his dreams.
Author's Note: Something short and quick. I probably spent more time choosing a title for this than writing the actual story. orz
When he did decide to sleep, to let the busy wheels in his head slowed down, he thought he saw her in his dreams. Always there, just somewhere in the distance, waiting for him with her back turned away.
This Clara, she was…short, but feisty. Strong-willed, absolute, must have been completely tolerable to be able to deal with him.
He wondered if she still thought of him. Even if he couldn’t remember, he thought of her.
He could never see her face clearly. It was always obscured by something or other, and when he was staring into her face, it was blurred, but there would still be a smile trying to shine through. He imagined she must at the very least be pretty. Why on Earth wouldn’t she be?
He could always see her mouth moving, speaking to him, though no sound ever came out, but he reckoned the words to be lovely, just teasingly lovely. She seemed like the type to hold her ground and speak her mind when necessary. He expected nothing less of her.
Pretty, strong-willed, just utterly brilliant and magnificent Clara. His Clara.
He imagined they were once probably happy together.
They certainly were in his dreams.
Rating: G
Genre: General
Pairing: Twelve/Clara
Word Count: 201
Summary: He thought he saw her in his dreams.
Author's Note: Something short and quick. I probably spent more time choosing a title for this than writing the actual story. orz
When he did decide to sleep, to let the busy wheels in his head slowed down, he thought he saw her in his dreams. Always there, just somewhere in the distance, waiting for him with her back turned away.
This Clara, she was…short, but feisty. Strong-willed, absolute, must have been completely tolerable to be able to deal with him.
He wondered if she still thought of him. Even if he couldn’t remember, he thought of her.
He could never see her face clearly. It was always obscured by something or other, and when he was staring into her face, it was blurred, but there would still be a smile trying to shine through. He imagined she must at the very least be pretty. Why on Earth wouldn’t she be?
He could always see her mouth moving, speaking to him, though no sound ever came out, but he reckoned the words to be lovely, just teasingly lovely. She seemed like the type to hold her ground and speak her mind when necessary. He expected nothing less of her.
Pretty, strong-willed, just utterly brilliant and magnificent Clara. His Clara.
He imagined they were once probably happy together.
They certainly were in his dreams.