Helloooo, everyone! Katierosefun aka Caroline here! This is my first ever Doctor Who multi-chapter story! Can you believe it? XD
This idea sort of popped into my head two days ago when I was struggling with a story - seriously. Writing blocks are the worst. (Actually, there are worse things than a writing block...but for a writer, obviously, writing blocks are pretty bad...because that's when your imaginary friends stop talking to you. O.o)
Sorry, off-topic. XD Some of you guys might know me from previous Clara x Eleven stories, or you guys might be totally new to my style of writing and etc. I'm just going to say it now - if you don't like Clara x Eleven, hightail out of here, because though the story will start off with just friendship, it will evolve into romance and etc. (I promise that it won't be the sappy, soap-opera kind of romance, though. At least, I hope not. O.O)
With that said, please enjoy!
"In your life, you will meet one person who is unlike any other – you can tell them any and everything and they won't judge you. This person is your best friend, your soul mate…don't ever let them go."
Chapter One.
Clara Oswald bit down on her lip as she stared blankly at her laptop screen. Her brain was racing with so many ideas and she couldn't get any of them on paper.
She sighed and placed her hands underneath her chin. Really, how hard is it to write something? Just one sentence could start off a story – it didn't take that much strength.
Clara spun around in her desk-chair and sighed again. It had been the same procedure every hour of every day – she'd sit down at her desk, open up her laptop, try to type a few words, then delete them all with a few quick, hasty movements.
I want to be a writer, Clara thought to herself, standing up. And I can't even write a single paragraph. Brilliant.
So far, Clara's dream of becoming a writer wasn't as successful as she had hoped – for now, she was just an editor for other writers. She was allowed to stay in her apartment room, only having to go outside if she needed to talk to the head editor or the writers of the books.
Pens and pencils and sticky notes were all cluttered around her desk – pages and pages of manuscripts and emails were posted on the wall. Clara's ever-so-useful phone was also tucked next to the laptop's keyboard, just in case the head editor or one of the writers would call.
Being an editor wasn't that bad, to be honest – she was always busy, for one thing, and most of the stories that she had read were actually rather good. The job had a decent pay, too.
She walked over to the window of her apartment and flung it open. She stuck her head out and inhaled a good amount of fresh, warm air. Summer was just coming around here in the states, signaling the first, completed year of Clara Oswald's stay away from her home in England.
Despite her building frustration from not being able to write anything, Clara allowed herself to smile. Summer had always been her favorite season – the warmth, the sun, the release from the stressful, tiring months of winter was always what Clara wanted.
Besides, summers in England were always dreary – they were always hot and wet and Clara always thought of them to be unpleasant. But here, in the suburbs of New York, the summer seemed to be just perfect. Hot, yes, but without the humidity or constant warning of rain.
The small, apartment complex that Clara lived in was just perfect, as well. It reminded her a bit of her own apartment room back home – it had the same, clean walls, the same, shiny, wooden floors, the same large windows, the same…well, just about everything, except perhaps there was a strange, sense of adventure in this particular apartment complex. However, Clara had added her own bits of individuality to the apartment room that she didn't add back in England. Besides her messy desk, several potted plants were sitting on the windowsills and photographs of her friends and family decorated the walls, along with several pictures of far-off places that she hoped to visit one day.
Her bed was in another room of the apartment, though Clara realized that she didn't sleep in her own bed these days. Most of the time, because of her editing job; she would find herself sleeping on her desk.
A small kitchenette was also in the apartment, along with a bathroom. Clara had added air fresheners to keep the room sweet-smelling and comfortable, and, of course, just to make the room feel extra-perky, she had even added some nice, flowery curtains to go with the windows.
Everything about the apartment just screamed "Clara" – she had been so excited to travel so far away from home. Not that she hated her home – no, she adored her friends and her father that she had left back in England, but there were just so many places to see and New York just happened to be one of them.
Clara stuck her head back inside and turned around to look at her laptop, which was still humming and whirring with activity.
"Alright, you," she said out loud to herself, sitting down at her desk-chair. "Write."
Clara placed her hands over the keyboard and waited expectantly for a word to come to her – a sentence, a thought…anything, really.
When nothing came, Clara groaned in frustration and introduced her forehead to her desk. "Come on!" She yelled. "You had all those ideas just a second ago!"
She looked back up at her laptop screen, the thick, black, short line still blinking patiently on the blank, white canvas that mimicked real paper.
"Alright," Clara muttered under her breath, re-placing her hands on the keyboard. She glared at the blinking line and managed to type one sentence –
It was quiet.
As soon as Clara added the period to the sentence, a loud, booming, "Helloooo, New York!" sounded from outside her window. Clara blinked and quickly stood up from her desk. She walked over to her window and stuck her head outside to see a tall, dark haired young man looking up at the apartment complex with a wide, beaming smile. He wore a bowtie around his neck and a pair of suspenders over a light, red shirt and dark trousers. To be truthful, he looked rather odd.
Oh – someone new is moving in, Clara thought, looking at a car parked nearby the man. She watched as the newcomer turned around to the car and unloaded several boxes from the trunk.
Several boxes tumbled out of the man's hands and Clara couldn't help but to feel a bit sorry. However, before she could say anything, the man looked up at Clara. She froze on the spot – she didn't know whether to duck out of sight or wave at him.
She didn't need to do any of those things. The man gave her a cheerful, happy smile and waved as though he was an old friend.
"Hello!" He shouted. "Do you mind helping me move these boxes? I'm new here!"
Clara blinked and shrugged. "Sure," she replied simply and ducked her head back inside her apartment room. She walked over to her closet and grabbed a jacket. Throwing it on, she walked out of the door and headed down the stairs to meet the newcomer.
She came to a short stop in front of him and he grinned.
"Hello," he said again, sticking out a hand. "I'm John Smith." Judging by his accent, Clara assumed that he, like her, was from England.
Clara took the hand with what she hoped was a friendly smile. "I'm Clara Oswald," she replied. "Nice to meet you."
The dark-haired man – John – beamed at Clara as though she had given him the best compliment in the world. "Nice to meet you, too," he said enthusiastically and bent down, picking up a large, cardboard box. He gestured with his head at another box sitting in front of the trunk of the car.
"Follow me!" He said cheerfully, heading inside the building.
Clara bent down and grabbed the box. She held it up to her knees and walked after John. The box bounced up and down at her legs and she was relieved to put it down when the two reached the elevator.
"What floor?" She asked, looking over her shoulder.
"Three," John replied, his cheerful smile still plastered over his face.
Clara wondered if it hurt to smile that long. Shaking her head of the thoughts, she managed a small smile. "Really? I live on that floor, too," she said and punched a small button with the number three printed over the glazed, plastic-covered layering.
"Oh, brilliant!" John said happily, picking up the box again. "What room do you live in?"
"308," Clara replied, picking up her own box as the elevator doors slid open. "You?"
"309." John said, his smile stretching wider. "Lovely – we'll be neighbors, yeah?"
"I suppose so." Clara nodded, walking out of the doors. She waited patiently for John to walk out and once he did, the two set off down the halls.
John came to a slow stop in front of room 309 and reached inside his pocket, fumbling for some keys. He dragged it out and pushed the keys into the small hole. John swung open the door and turned to Clara. "Thank you for your help," he said cheerfully.
"No problem." Clara replied. "Er…just give a holler if you need anything else, yeah?"
John nodded. "Of course." He said, and, giving a small salute to Clara, walked into the apartment room.
Clara opened the door to her own apartment and looked at room 309 with raised eyebrows. She could already hear John settling in – the sounds of boxes being shoved around were hard to miss.
She wondered if she should ask him if he needed more help, but remembering that she still had a paragraph to complete, quickly walked into her room without a second thought.
xXx
Clara woke up to a sharp, rapping sound at her door. She yawned and opened her eyes blearily. She glanced at her alarm clock to see that it was only seven in the morning – she still had about thirty minutes left to sleep before she'd have to get another editing job done.
"Who's at the door?" She mumbled to herself sleepily, sliding out of her bed. Clara managed to brush down her hair before opening the door so she would look at least a bit presentable.
"Hello?" Clara murmured, swinging open the door.
"Clara Oswald! Hello! Remember me? From yesterday?" A familiar, cheerful voice exploded from in front of her. Clara slowly looked up to see John Smith waiting for her, bowtie and all.
Clara blinked. "Er…yes..?" She chose to reply.
"Wonderful! Well, get dressed – yes, now, if you please, we've got such a big day ahead of us and –"
"What are you talking about?" Clara interrupted, confused. "Are we going somewhere? I'm sorry, but I'm just busy today and –"
"Busy? Busy with what?" John asked with a frown.
Clara blinked again, only this time, in surprise over how quickly John reacted. "Well…er…I'm an editor, you see, and I need to get some chapters done today so if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to –"
"Oh, no matter!" John said suddenly, already perking up. "If you're an editor, you've got a laptop, yes?" Before Clara could say anything else, the man looked over Clara's shoulder. He grinned and flashed a thumbs-up. "Great, you've got one! You can work on-the-go, yeah?"
Clara frowned and leaned against the doorframe. "Hang on!" She protested. "We've only just met and now you're taking me to…where, exactly?"
"Café! It's only ten minutes away from here – you'll love it! It's got pastries and jams and…custard!" John beamed.
Clara took a deep breath and counted to ten under her breath. "Right – listen, that sounds great, but I think you've had too much sugar." She said firmly. "I really can't be bothered today – I'll see you later, yeah?" With that said, she quickly closed the door to John's face and turned back around, exhaling with a puff.
"Oi! Clara! Clara Oswald!" She heard John yelling at the door. "Come on! It'll only take a few minutes!"
Well…that escalated quickly, Clara thought to herself as she plopped down on her desk chair. Really…I've only just met him!
She heard John sigh and he went on, "Fine! You're busy, I understand! I'll be back tomorrow, yeah?"
Clara frowned to herself as she heard John walk away. The sound of his apartment door closing followed shortly after. She puffed out another, incredulous breath and shook her head. She had a strange feeling that the next few days would be much too exciting for her.
A/N: Because we would all love to live next door to the Doctor. Really...even if he might be really loud.
Anyways, please review, give constructive criticism (if you have any) and please don't flame!