Thread with duodecimal

[parallels]

[She can't take her eyes off him.

The chips have long been forgotten; now cold and soggy on the plate. And the ones in her stomach are churning unpleasantly.

He is the Doctor. He really truly is. And yet, he's like a stranger. She's on a date with a man who's an old friend and also a stranger and she has to get to know his ins and outs, likes and dislikes, bad habits. All that.

It's a bit of a thrill. And yet terrifying.

Her heart still beats out of time when she looks at him. But why? Is it residual feelings left over from his last face? Or something else entirely? She's never been particularly in touch with these sorts of feelings. Too messy. Too risky to let walls down.

Her eyes flit again to his face and his sharp eyes.

It's really not an ideal meal.]

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[duodecimal]

[ The Doctor's regenerated in front of companions before and he's dealt with his issues with regeneration around them without them being entirely aware of what's going on. It's one of those things he remembers, exact details of every little thing in his lives are messy still, but he remembers those regenerations.

There's something different about it this time. Something he can't quite put his finger on. It feels faintly as if he should be able to figure it out because that's what he does and it's just— Clara. Clara, Clara, Clara.

Maybe that is the problem. The big problem that keeps looking at him while he stares at her. This wasn't how this was supposed to go, oh yes, he called her, and maybe he should have known but she's Clara. She was supposed to not— she was supposed to be one who could adjust easily. Miscalculations abound, he supposes.

It feels like he did something wrong. It's stupid and he knows it is, but the idea that he did something wrong with Clara bugs him in an irrational sort of way. It makes him not want to speak and just continue this dance of looking almost as if Clara is a bomb or an experiment, but if he's going to make sure she stays beyond just out of some obligation to his former face, he should show her how he is. What he is beyond the regeneration hiccups and memories. Never mind that he's not sure himself, but he wants her to just see him when she stares and not perhaps any of him. ]

Are you— Don't— Your chips, you're done with them?

[ He didn't quite feel like eating many of them himself, but Clara was or should have been hungry. He should have gone for the coffee. That would have been better. He clears his throat and for a brief moment in time he considers not pointing it out but he figures she won't say anything about it without prompting. Then again, maybe she would if the hugging and the agreeing was anything to go by. ]

You're staring.