Clara had been searching for the kitchen, eyes squinted at the ceiling of the TARDIS as she took yet another dead-end turn.
"I promise I won't burn anything! Could you just let me go?" She attempted to persuade the sentient ship again, frowning. She was given a flicker of light, particularly purple to represent the old girl's distaste in allowing Clara around the kitchen at all. Although the two girls were on good terms, especially after the Doctor's regeneration, the TARDIS still didn't allow Clara anywhere near a kitchen, unless accompanied by the Doctor. Clara was just about to give the TARDIS quite the inappropriate response, when she walked straight into a door. Though, inspecting it, she noted how there were musical notes etched into the door.
"Okay, this isn't the kitchen." Clara murmured, opening the door to find quite the grand spectrum of instruments, some of which she didn't recognize. Some human, some alien, some futuristic. She noted the different guitars on the wall, one was even already plugged into an amp. It looked as though it was played recently too. She smiled at the idea of the Doctor in the room, legs crossed as his fingers strummed his beloved instrument. His hoodie and plaid pants; things that seemed so different from the last Doctor but so...Doctor-y at the same that it felt like it suited him. Suited the specific regeneration, to be exact. He was a rebel timelord, with such a different charm.
She looked around further and her attention was immediately drawn to a grand piano in the middle of the large ballroom-like room. The grand structure, shiny and pitch black. Clara had wanted to learn the piano as a child, but she had thought she could learn it in her teens. That was the plan, up until Ellie had died. Her world changed then.
She pulled the seat back and sat down, feeling the smooth finish of a regular grand piano. It felt so human in comparison to all the recent things she had touched, bringing her back home to good old Earth. She removed the key cover, bringing to view the ivory keys as they shimmered in the unnatural light; bright, beautiful, and absolutely breathtaking. She looked at the gold letters, which curled to spell "Bösendorfer", one of the most expensive and prestigious brands on Earth. She pressed a key, the sound vibrating in the spacious room.
"I see you found my haven, Clara." A Scottish accent, brought her attention. She looked up to him, his eyes looking deep into her, as though he was analyzing her movements. It was a different kind of analysis, as it didn't feel penetrating, but was instead gentle prodding.
"Mm, your box brought me here, rather than the kitchen." She explained as he sat beside her.
"It would be a disaster if you came around to the kitchen. There's no doubt you could still burn it." He responded, "And instead she takes you here- a place where you could cause more damage."
"I'm not a child, Doctor." She responded, rolling her eyes and focusing back to the piano. She pressed another note, "The piano always sounded so beautiful to my ears. I wanted to learn it but...I didn't have the time."
"Now you have all then time in the world." The Doctor responded, smirking.
"Not really." She murmured.
The Doctor didn't reply. Instead, he lifted both his arms and placed his hands to the keys. Out of nowhere, he began to play. Her eyebrows raised as he played a tune she didn't recognize. It was definitely his own, with his fingers weaving through the keys with such grace, with his fingers running lightly over the keys in legato play where the notes are smooth and connected. It was hard to pinpoint the music with words, as it would feel unjust to describe it in such few words. He looked relaxed, which was new to Clara. His sea blue eyes focused only on the keys, with the occasional glance towards Clara, to see her reactions. She was sure that she looked dumbfounded, as this was a new talent she was unaware of.
When he had finished, she wondered how she looked. Did she show the wonder she felt in her eyes? Did she show how much she...cared for the alien sitting beside her? Did it prove how smitten she was, regardless of regeneration? It felt odd to feel such a way, yet so right with him. She met his eyes and smiled softly, to which he surprisingly returned.
"You are full of tricks yourself, aren't you?" She asked, an eyebrow raised.
"Always, Oswald, always. The piano is a different type of instrument to play, rather than the guitar. The piano holds grace. It plays a different set of sounds. When melded together, it creates a tune that is beautiful to the ear. People on Earth perfect it, learning it in order to understand such beauty." He explained, his hand just barely ghosting over the keys.
"You've been around me too much." Clara murmured, "It sounds like something I'd say."
"You're the teacher afterall." The Doctor remarked.
"The boss." She corrected.
"A teacher, not the boss." He responded, smirking. She sighed.
"Play some more, will you?" She requested, leaning her head on his shoulder. She felt him tense up slightly, but did as he was told, playing a softer version of what he had played earlier. When he finished, she looked to him. "What's it called?" She asked him. The Doctor didn't meet her gaze.
"It's called Clara." He admitted quietly.
"Aw, Doctor, really?" She asked. He looked to her as though she was just joking.
"No, it's named the Daleks- of course it's for you!" He exclaimed. He was still brash as usual.
"I didn't think you'd do that. Thank you. It's beautiful."
"It's a best seller." He responded.
"A best seller?"
"Sold on every inch of the galaxy. They all know your name." The Doctor proclaimed, quite proud of it himself.
"Only you would." She giggled. He looked at her some more, as if he wanted to capture the moment of her giggles.
"I have another in progress." He added on, "I'm hoping it will also be a best seller."
"Oh? What's it called?"
"You'll have to wait and see when I release it." Before Clara could even ask, he went back to playing. She couldn't help but continue to watch her Doctor enjoy his music. It was just a sight to behold, as she was a sight to behold for him.