Things said between people don't always have to be true to be important and necessary.
He knows how it goes by now: Clara dies and they find each other again, but she never remembers him. It gives him hope, though, to recall that something still draws them to one another, against all the odds. It's impossible, or it should be, but that's what she's always been, his impossible girl. ]
Right, the talismans...and yours would be... [ He's not asking, just talking to himself out loud because he must, because Clara's blood is splattered across his arm and she's dying again. So, he speaks because he can't bear the quiet as she drifts away from him.
Her pocket, of course. It wouldn't be anywhere else. His hand snakes down, searching her pockets until at last he finds it, clutching it in his palm as they near the fire. ]
[ He smiles because he must, though he doesn't expect an answer. Lips pressing to her forehead, he lets out a shaky breath, and finally closes the distance between them and the fire. He tosses Clara's talisman into the flames first, then his own. With that done, his hold on her tightens, his cheek pressing to hers. If she's going away now, he's going to make sure she's not alone for it, that she feels him close.
Thank you, Clara. Thank you for everything that you were to me.
He so desperately wants to be right, though, that she'll be okay now. The universe owes him this.
no subject
A lie, to comfort him.
Things said between people don't always have to be true to be important and necessary.
He knows how it goes by now: Clara dies and they find each other again, but she never remembers him. It gives him hope, though, to recall that something still draws them to one another, against all the odds. It's impossible, or it should be, but that's what she's always been, his impossible girl. ]
Right, the talismans...and yours would be... [ He's not asking, just talking to himself out loud because he must, because Clara's blood is splattered across his arm and she's dying again. So, he speaks because he can't bear the quiet as she drifts away from him.
Her pocket, of course. It wouldn't be anywhere else. His hand snakes down, searching her pockets until at last he finds it, clutching it in his palm as they near the fire. ]
You know, after this, I think we've earned a day off at the very least. A day off, a quiet adventure, you baking me a soufflé, eh? What do you say? Cheese and chocolate - can you combine them? Of course you can. It's probably never been attempted before, but that's what we do, Clara, the mad and the weird and the utterly perfect.
[ He smiles because he must, though he doesn't expect an answer. Lips pressing to her forehead, he lets out a shaky breath, and finally closes the distance between them and the fire. He tosses Clara's talisman into the flames first, then his own. With that done, his hold on her tightens, his cheek pressing to hers. If she's going away now, he's going to make sure she's not alone for it, that she feels him close.
Thank you, Clara. Thank you for everything that you were to me.
He so desperately wants to be right, though, that she'll be okay now. The universe owes him this.
Please. ]