Theme by Zelda.
HANNIBAL & THEATER VI. of XIII.
↳ THE PLAYER
// life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage - and then is heard no more. //
william shakespeare / macbeth
You know w h o I am!
No, I don’t! I look at you every single day, and I don’t understand a t h i n g about you.
Last year, 22-time Emmy award-winning reporter John Stofflet posted this news video he created for KING-TV in 2004, featuring Paul Smith and his artistic talents.
He could watch her for days end. They didn’t have to do anything, he enjoyed just watching her doing her own thing- whether it was running around on a new planet or just sit in the big library with a book in her lap. Everything about her was so very mesmerizing. The way she’d bite on her bottom lip when she was concentrating or the dimple that so cutely appeared on the left side of her cheek as she smiled smugely at him. It was everything and a little more.
The Doctor studied her carefully as she walked around the control panel, her sun kissed hands stroking the cold metal with a knowing smile. Her brown curls were still dripping from the rainy planet they had traveled too. And she still hadn’t changed her clothes. The red dress clung onto her beautifully curved body as if to make a statement and he somehow couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of her. As if he ever could.
"Clara." Clara, his Clara.
The petite brunette looked up at him, the smile on her face widening the very moment her brown orbs met his green ones.
How he loved calling out her name. Clara. It was everything she did, everything she was and everything she will ever do- in one little word. Clara. How he loved the feeling of calling out her name. It was like clarity to him. Like he had done it all his life- like he was supposed to do it for the rest of it.
She walked up to him, her soaked boots making quiet squeaks here and there as she neared him. Her small cold hands intertwined with his. He shuddered at the contact. There was something about the way it felt around her, something about the air around them when they were together. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, but the feeling of her soft skin against his was like an electric shock, slowly but surely erupting into a perfect storm of delirium.
He smiled down at their hands that seemed so securely wrapped around one another. It felt safe. It felt right- yet he didn’t dare thinking about that.
"We’re here. Same year, same day but a few minutes late but nothing the Maitlands won’t notice." The Doctor let go of her, only to brush his finger against her dimpled cheek. "See you next Wednesday?"
Clara quickly nodded and turned around to leave the TARDIS. He watched her walk, but just as she was about to open the doors, she turned around and flashed him another smile.
And in that moment, he swore both of his hearts forgot to beat.
"Goodnight, Doctor." With that being said, she left and closed the door behind her, leaving the Doctor alone in his spaceship.
The empty TARDIS made a buzz, bringing the now lonely man out of his endless thoughts. He gasped and shook his head, giving the control panel a playful smack. The Doctor sighed and made his way to the room he called his.
Stopping for a moment, he chewed on the thought lingering in the air.
"I don’t love her."
But it was in the way the word her rolled off of his tongue- that told him otherwise.
Aww 💕 #doctorwho #whouffle #twelve #clara