Making the perfect whoufflé: one shots

[whouffaldi] changes

She fell in love with him the first time he smiled, which was immediately. She loved him from the very beginning.

From his floppy hair, to his bow tie and down to his loafers, she loved all of him. She would die for him. Die for him over and over and over again. A million times over she would die for him. At first everything she said was just playful flirtation, like a little child crush. Middle school boyfriend that was goofy and stupid at times. But as time grew on, he was much more. He was her eternity. He was the stars and the moon and the sun and everything beautiful ever. He was limitless.

How could she tell him? He would think she was stupid, petty and dumb. Why would he love me? She often found herself thinking at times.

When everything changed, she didn't know what to do. Did she still love him or did she only love his former self? These kind of questions would ring on her ears late at night and cause her to loose sleep. She'd wake with hollow eyes and bags underneath those chocolate brown orbs. "Did you sleep?" he'd ask in his new Scottish accent.

She'd either shrug or nod and say something like, "Yeah, but not much." or the infamous, "Just a nightmare spooked me." when it was reality that scared her the most. The reality was that she loved him. But he looked...old. Of course, he was a thousand-some year old time lord, so he looked young for his age. But it wasn't normal for her. Inside, she loved him.

Despite his new face, ridden with wrinkles and his hair now silver, whenever she looked at him she felt butterflies. More than just butterflies, she felt a swarm of bees. Buzzing inside her. Sometimes she'd find herself staring at him while he wrote or read a book. He'd catch her but ignore it, not wanting to sound foolish. Even at times she would accidentally reach out and touch him, just a poke or even a pat on the shoulder, but he was magic and she could feel it whenever they touched. He'd shrug it off or ignore her at most times. But he felt it too.

He felt the heat, the burning and the yearning in his hearts whenever he looked at her. When she smiled, she was the sun. And he loved her. He loved her. He loved her. Nothing could ever change that.

Rarely, when they went adventuring, Clara would fall asleep in the console room. The Doctor would watch her sleep, her chest rising and falling slowly. Sometimes she would smile in her sleep and turn over or nuzzle against the chair. He'd smile with her but then realize how foolish he was for loving her and stop.

She was everything to him.

The galaxies and light and love and everything.

"Clara." The Doctor muttered, leaning on the console with his face in his hands.

Clara was sitting up near his book shelves in his old chair, reading some book about the galaxies. She couldn't be bothered to look up. "Yes, Doctor?" she said with a light smile, caused by hearing his name.

He turned around, leaned against the console and looked up at her, "We're friends, right?" she nodded, still reading. "So if I told you something slightly...personal you wouldn't be cross or upset or anything?" This got Clara's attention. She put her book down and set it on the shelf before looking at him and resting her elbows on her knees, face in hands.

"It depends.. Are you going to insult me?" she asked.

"Of course not! Why would I insult you?" he chuckled nervously, rubbing behind his neck with his left hand and gulping loudly. "Nothing like that, just something dumb. Never mind, it's nothing." he turned back around and toggled with buttons for no apparent reason.

Clara licked her lips and stood up before walking down the stairs to stand beside him. "It doesn't seem like nothing. Is something wrong?" Clara put a petite hand on his shoulder and he flinched but eased into the light touch.

He gulped again and looked into her eyes. "No, not that. It's not that something's wrong, something is right and that feels weird." She gave him a look of confusion and he chuckled anxiously. "Clara, you're wonderful. Fantastic even. And that's the problem."

Clara tilted her head to the side and let her hand fall from his shoulder. "What do you mean--?" She started but was interrupted by The Doctor's lips against her own. Her head was screaming. Screaming excitedly as he pushed her against the console and put a hand on the back of her neck. His lips moved against hers like they were meant to be against hers. Fireworks exploded inside her heart. Clara hesitantly put her hands on his shoulders as his hands went to her waist and pulled her closer. "Doctor." she whispered against his lips as she felt him smile.

He pulled away suddenly, pushing himself away so he was leaning on the handle bars opposite to her. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."

Clara simply laughed and ran her fingers through her hair, straightening out her blouse. "Don't apologise, really."

The Doctor pulled down his coat so it was straight and blew out a nervous puff of air. "Clara, I'm so in love with you. And I might be foolish to do so, but I love you." he said, stepping closer to her again.

Clara's eyes sparkled, veins tingled. "Doctor.." she whispered. "I feel the same.."

The Doctor's eyes lit up in excitement. "Really?! That's great! I mean, very cool and I'm glad and--" he rambled before Clara cut him off with a kiss. She smirked at him as she pulled away. "Sorry, I'm all ramble-y when I'm nervous and such." he chuckled.

"Are you always nervous then?" Clara joked.

"Not always! Just around you mostly." The Doctor mumbled the last part but Clara heard and simply smiled and reached out to grasp his hand in hers. He blushed.

Clara stepped towards him slowly and rested her head on his chest. She felt his breath hitch before he eased into it. She then continued to snuggle her cheek against him almost like a cat. The Doctor slowly wrapped his free arm around her shoulders. "I..love you." he breathed.

"I love you, too."