Chiaroscuro
May. 6th, 2024 05:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dornishviperxEmbarking on a quest to crosspost all the stuff that's on my ao3 on here, because redundancy is always a good thing (I'm haunted by the spectre of the LJ and FFN purges). This was written in May 2013, making it 11 years old now and the oldest thing I have posted at the archive! Very fun to revisit :D
Fandom: Doctor Who
Relationship: Eleven & Clara or Eleven/Clara (open to interpretation)
Word count: 567
Warnings: None.
Summary: Her light feet carry her across your console room and you want to scream in frustration because you don't understand a thing about her.
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The Doctor reflects on Clara and the mystery she presents, but finds himself thinking of the person she is.
You’ve always been a watcher. A watcher who interferes often and loudly, yes, but at your core still a mere observer of the universe and all that’s in it. You never mean to interfere, but it keeps happening to you. Or it did, until you stopped, refusing the call because of Amy, River, Donna, Rose, Ace, Leela, Romana, Susan, and so many others.
Fandom: Doctor Who
Relationship: Eleven & Clara or Eleven/Clara (open to interpretation)
Word count: 567
Warnings: None.
Summary: Her light feet carry her across your console room and you want to scream in frustration because you don't understand a thing about her.
-
The Doctor reflects on Clara and the mystery she presents, but finds himself thinking of the person she is.
You’ve always been a watcher. A watcher who interferes often and loudly, yes, but at your core still a mere observer of the universe and all that’s in it. You never mean to interfere, but it keeps happening to you. Or it did, until you stopped, refusing the call because of Amy, River, Donna, Rose, Ace, Leela, Romana, Susan, and so many others.
And then she came along with her name like light and spirit of joy, bringing you more darkness and pain. Clara. She made you need to interfere again and you lost her. Not once, but twice. Without knowing it, she reflects your every failure back at you. It’s ironic, you think, that the girl with the name for clarity has become your obscurity. She’s the reason you’re not back to watching and yet her light steps around the console room seem to put you back in your original place. You can’t help but observe her fingers and the way they slide lightly across the machine, her light feet and the way they carry her, her lips and the way they form an almost hesitant smile, her eyes and the way they devour the room. She’s a mystery and a girl and so very human in everything she does.
The very sight of her is frustrating. An incomplete puzzle to feast your eyes on, taunting you with its impossibility. You have come no closer; every time you find something it escapes you or turns out to be a false lead. She seems to know no more than you, but it could be a ruse and you’ve known too many of those in your lifetime to discard the possibility.
You want to scream. You can’t tear your eyes away and yet you understand nothing at all.
But at the same time, you understand everything.
You know she doesn’t trust you, doesn’t want to, only believing in your ability to keep her safe (ha!), and you can’t fault her. She’s as in the dark about you as you are about her, and you’re glad. Secrets are necessary to keep her safe – you have never lacked for enemies. However, her walls are not as impenetrable as she might think.
You know she cares about every single person she encounters. You know she will follow you only as long as she knows she’ll survive. You know she’s curious but cautious all the same. You know she wants to travel, see the stars, go on adventures, and yet have a cup of tea and relax too. You know she will devour information hungrily, yet not persist actively if the information is locked away from her. You know she moves, but never ever runs. She faces everything head-on if it bothers her enough, elsewise it is not her trouble.
You know the way she bounces into the TARDIS. You know the way a smile plays on her lips whenever she’s amused. You know how she’s always ready to say something clever. You know she always understands what you say, even when you don’t say it well at all. You know the way she impatiently taps her fingers on the console when she’s bored. You know she worries about home and her family often.
You know you want to understand her.
You know you find yourself wanting her around you.
You don’t understand Clara, the mystery, but you know Clara, the person.
The very sight of her is frustrating. An incomplete puzzle to feast your eyes on, taunting you with its impossibility. You have come no closer; every time you find something it escapes you or turns out to be a false lead. She seems to know no more than you, but it could be a ruse and you’ve known too many of those in your lifetime to discard the possibility.
You want to scream. You can’t tear your eyes away and yet you understand nothing at all.
But at the same time, you understand everything.
You know she doesn’t trust you, doesn’t want to, only believing in your ability to keep her safe (ha!), and you can’t fault her. She’s as in the dark about you as you are about her, and you’re glad. Secrets are necessary to keep her safe – you have never lacked for enemies. However, her walls are not as impenetrable as she might think.
You know she cares about every single person she encounters. You know she will follow you only as long as she knows she’ll survive. You know she’s curious but cautious all the same. You know she wants to travel, see the stars, go on adventures, and yet have a cup of tea and relax too. You know she will devour information hungrily, yet not persist actively if the information is locked away from her. You know she moves, but never ever runs. She faces everything head-on if it bothers her enough, elsewise it is not her trouble.
You know the way she bounces into the TARDIS. You know the way a smile plays on her lips whenever she’s amused. You know how she’s always ready to say something clever. You know she always understands what you say, even when you don’t say it well at all. You know the way she impatiently taps her fingers on the console when she’s bored. You know she worries about home and her family often.
You know you want to understand her.
You know you find yourself wanting her around you.
You don’t understand Clara, the mystery, but you know Clara, the person.
