clara has never been a large woman, but what she’s lacked in stature, she’s always made up for in a presence taller than anyone, filling a room and taking control, even when everyone around her is twice her height ( or an alien time traveller ). now, curled into a ball on this bed in vastra’s house, clara is tiny. deflated. there are people around her, still --- mei, whom she genuinely loves, and vastra and jenny are friends --- but clara has never felt more alone.
she misses him. she didn’t get to say goodbye properly, and she misses him. there’s all these if onlys going round her head, and clara knows it’s not helpful, but they won’t stop. if only she’d gotten to kiss him once more, to hug him and be spun around, to curl up with him in bed and listen to his hearts beat. if only they’d had one more adventure, one more time holding hands and running into danger. if only she’d told him how she felt, though it was never necessary, and he always knew.
there is a stranger in his place, and clara does not know who he is.
❝ he left me. ❞ she means her doctor, with his smile and bow tie and the shaking hand he reached out to her right before he changed...and this stranger who has stranded the two of them here, in victorian london. and clara --- who always knows everything --- has no idea how to cope.
