In Her Eyes (A Whouffle Fanfiction)

Chapter 23- Clara's Flat

Once they were through the front door Clara breathed a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing as she took in the familiar surroundings of her home. It was only a small flat, and, she realised with a frown, some of the corridors were too narrow to get the wheelchair down, but it was reassuring to be back. She heard the Doctor drop her house keys into a dish on the sideboard, hearing him whistle softly as he saw her flat for a first time. Clara felt oddly nervous. Her flat wasn't the tidiest of places-although she did do her best- exercise books and test papers to be marked were stacked in corners often alongside potted plants and the odd bookcase. She had painted the walls instead of papering them- it added a more artistic feel to her flat, and allowed her to personalise her walls more than just picking out designs that looked a bit like what she wanted. They were painted autumnal colours; reds, golds, one wall in her living room a mix of all the colours swirled together. It lent the flat an earthy, natural feel. 

The Doctor looked around the flat appreciatively and smiled. The way she had decorated it was very...Clara-esque. The furniture, comfy and vintage but not out-dated, little trinkets and relics from their travels (the ones that wouldn't raise many questions, anyway) showcased on shelves in every room and hallway side by side with more human ones from her past. It was only a tiny flat, but it suited her right down to the ground. 

"Did you decorate it yourself?" he asked her curiously, wondering how on earth she would have been able to exact a transformation like this on the flat in the few short months that she had been living there. If he remembered rightly, the last time he had seen the place was when she first bought it, the property an empty shell ruined by it's last tenants. 

"No," Clara laughed, "Danny helped me. Would've taken me years to clear the wreckage the last people left otherwise." 

"Danny?" The Doctor asked, fingers tapping against her wheelchair handles as he squeezed it down the hallway to her living room. The hallway wasn't narrow, far from it, but it hadn't been built for the wide wheelchair that he had given Clara, and it made for a tight fight. A pit of jealousy began to brew in his stomach as he thought of this man and his Clara decorating her flat together. Alone. 

"A friend from work. He volunteered to help, actually." Did he now? Thought the Doctor darkly. I bet he jumped at the chance to 'help' Clara move in.

 "I would've asked Macey to help but I needed someone strong to carry up the furniture..." She carried on, uninterestedly. 

I'm strong. I'm very strong. I may not look strong, but I am. Why didn't she ask me?

His train of thought must have shown on his face because she looked sideways at him, smirking. "Are you jealous? You are, aren't you?"

"I most certainly am not," he responded firmly, trying to keep on a poker face as he maneuvered Clara round a tight corner and into her living room, parking the wheelchair next to her sofa. She pressed her lips together in amusement. 

"Oh, I think you are-" Clara squealed. Before she could finish her sentence the Doctor had swiftly unbuckled her from her chair and swept her up into his arms, twirling her around the room. Clara giggled as she clung on to him by the lapels of his jacket, letting out another squeal when he let her drop in his arms, falling a few inches before he caught her and deposited her down on the sofa. 

"That was so not fair," Clara gasped out between giggles, "just because you want me all to yourself..." she teased, trailing off when she saw the Doctor's face darken. Suddenly she felt breathless, and it wasn't from the spin.  "Doctor...?" she hesitated, unsure what the meaning behind those dark eyes were, and in that moment the Doctor shook his head and jumped up from the sofa.