Making the perfect whoufflé: one shots

ethereal [whouffaldi]

The Doctor often read while Clara was around. Clara was usually surprised if he didn't have a book in his hand, honestly. Always reading about math or science, sometimes history of different planets and kingdoms. Clara didn't mind that he read around her, she liked seeing him like that: content and his face free of stress. It almost made him look younger.

There was a comfortable silence in the air when they were sitting up near The Doctor's book shelves in the console room, both sitting in separate chairs, doing different things. The Doctor was reading some book on a planet that Clara had never heard about. She was content with sitting a few feet away from him, doodling in a sketch book The Doctor had gotten her for her birthday after he had seen some doodles she did on his chalkboard one day, deciding she was quite a good artist, he had given her the sketch book.

If he was to look at her sketch book right now, the page was full of rough sketches of him. She was getting frustrated at her own art skill. Nothing was more hard for her than drawing The Doctors wonderfully fluffy silver hair.

"Doctor," Clara mumbled, glancing down at her sketch book and huffing, frustrated that her drawings weren't good enough. "Could you tilt your head to the left a bit?"

The Doctor looked up at her, his eyebrows furrowed and confusion written on his face. "Sure, but could I ask why?"

Clara giggled and set her pencil down for a moment, looking at him with a smile. "Yeah, uh, I'm sketching you so I need to see all your features. Sorry, that probably sounds odd." she laughed.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow but then chuckled with her. "Yeah, just a bit. Let me see." he held out a hand and she handed over the sketchbook willingly. "Oh wow, these are good." his eyes scanned the page, taking in the pencil marks on the page and seeing himself--for the first time--beautiful, in her imagine. It's funny how you can't see your own beauty until you see yourself in somebody else's eyes.

Clara looked at the ground, suddenly bashful as he complimented her art. "I can't seem to get your hair right though, it's really quite frustrating."

The Doctor scratched his head absentmindedly, feeling the fluffiness of his own silver hair. "What do you mean?"

"Your hair, it's quite fluffy if you hadn't noticed, Doctor. I can't seem to capture its wonderful fluffiness." she giggled at the childlike way she described it.

He handed her the sketchbook back and stood up to walk down the stairs and fiddle with keyboard on the console.

"You don't like your hair do you?" Clara asked, noticing the way he turned cold.

He shrugged, his back to her. "It's not just my hair, Clara. You wouldn't understand..."

Clara pursed her lips and sighed, "Why's that?"

He turned slowly to face her. "Because, Clara, you're beautiful, young, full of life. But me.. I'm grey, old, not the young man I once was." Clara laughed. The Doctor frowned at her laugh, feeling slightly offended. "You don't need an old man like me, Clara."

"Shut up, Doctor." Clara said, glaring at him. "You obviously don't know what I need then."

"What?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"You can't see yourself how I see you, Doctor." Clara stood up to walk down the stairs and stand beside him. "You're fantastic, amazing, full of this curiousity that I simply cannot match," Clara said softly, putting a hand on his cheek. "Doctor, my Doctor, you must know by now how I feel about you."

Clara felt him flinch under her touch, his cheeks tinting a soft shade of pink. "Clara..." He whispered.

"Isn't it obvious that I love you? You silly old fool, I love you and I refuse to let you believe you are anything less than ethereal." she smiled.

"Oh Clara, I'm far from perfect.." he chuckled.

"You're perfect to me." Clara tiptoed up to kiss his cheek, knowing that he wouldn't know what to do just yet if she kissed him on the lips. The Doctor stuttered with words for a moment then pressed his hand to the spot where Clara kissed him. "Clara?" he whispered, feeling frozen to the spot, a newfound warmth growing inside him.

Clara smiled up at him, knowing that he didn't know what to do with himself at the moment. "I'm gonna go to the library, find a new book. See you in a bit?" Clara smiled and turned to leave the room, stepping down the stairs. Before she could leave, The Doctor ran to grab her wrist and turn her.

"I-I love you, Clara Oswald." The Doctor smiled, hesitant but feeling a new confidence within himself and leaned down to kiss her. He slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her close and feeling her snake her arms around his neck.

Once the pulled away, they were breathless and faces red. They looked at each other for a moment before bursting out in a fit of laughter. Clara hugged him, giggling into his chest, her arms wrapped around his waist. The Doctor grinned in contentment, his arms slowly wrapping around her shoulders.

"So.. Do you really think my hair is wonderful?" The Doctor laughed, Clara playfully swatting him. Of course.