A/N: Took me all day to get this out of the back of my head. It was stuck there. XD;; Like... Gum or something. Okay, so to make a long story short I have this portfolio due and it's April and... And my English teacher told me to write something about a smile and focus only on it and stuff and tada. XD;;

I wrote this in her class today, also. She made me. Baw. Watching over my shoulder. Commenting on the narration. XD;;; I hate that. Don't watch me write stuff!

So this is one of my big bad April challenge things. XD;; I didn't want to be all cliche with the smile, and while I wouldn't of minded doing something extremely mushy... Yeah. XD;; I like this better. To all you guys looking at this all confused, this is another spinoff to my story, Clairvoyant Calamities: Fictitious Affectation. Also the longest story in the fandom. XD;; So... You will not get this at all if you haven't read it. And if that's the case, bye bye~ XD;;

Man it's so hard writing something without plot. XD;;

-E'en then would be some stooping; and I choose
Never to stoop. Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt
Whene'er I passed her; but who passed without
Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands;
Then all smiles stopped together.

— "My Last Dutchess" — Robert Browning

-: Just To See You Smile :-

The woman I see in front of me is the epitome of beauty, gorgeous brown locks tumbling down her back only to be accentuated by the flutter of her eyelashes. True, we all have flaws, but her flaws is what makes me love her so much more. She is a woman who flaunts them; truly, they are what makes her. Everything about her screams beautiful, but I have met countless women far prettier than she herself is. Yet, I find myself questioning why it is that I am drawn to her.

Her reaction time is abysmal at best—a sly smirk finds its way on my face. Putting whatever toy she is tampering with down, she adjusts her glasses with the push of one sharp, black index-finger. As she goes to work on something else, I cannot help but notice that she seems grey. There is nothing especially colorful about her, as the Doctor seems to like doom and gloom. But I know I have what it takes to turn her storm clouds into white sunbursts. Only if she would let me, of course! She wipes golden-brown strands out of her eye, but there is something that catches mine.

Makes my eyes widen.

Makes my fingers twitch and my mouth go dry.

She stops me in place for a while. The Doctor does not even know that I am in the room right now, does she? She is completely unaware of me and how much I think of her. How much I put off just to be around her, and the slight curl of her lips? That smile, I know, is not a smile for me. Because it is not a smile. It is not a full-blown grin of bliss—this I know—but in the new world I create, I picture one where she wears a vivacious grin. Words cannot describe the sheer beauty of her smile I foresee in that new future. And the more she smiles, the more I seem to fall steadily in love with her.

But I have never seen her smile.

Every time she sees me, she gives me an otherworldly snarl that I used to appreciate because I knew that snarl was made for me and me only. It was mine, and no one would be able to steal it away from me. The way her face contorts at the slightest blue haze in her eyesight amuses me; to care enough to create a twisted facial expression to wear only in my presence...

But I have never seen her smile.

I have never had that thrill because I always see her frown. Frowning. Frowning to me. At me. For me. Against me. Perfectly showing me how lost in despair she is at the sight of me. How her world has just completely crashed around her with the emphasis of an overturned grin.

Her frown is not beautiful.

It dejects from everything I have once felt for her. It makes me feel empty. Numb. For I could never lie to her beautiful face and tell her—while she is frowning—that she is the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen. Nothing can compare to her—no gem or jewel created by the common man. And the more I look at her, the angrier I become.

I wait impatiently each day to gaze upon your smiling face. I will cut my heart from my chest with a knife and offer it to you on a golden plate, if that is what it will take. And if that does not make you smile I will be very cross. I will give you all I have even if you do not want it.

Look, love...

I shine like you.

I shine for you.

You wretched witch, am I so undeserving of your smile? Why can I not be gloried with your happy grin? What do I have to do to get you to notice me? You notice everyone else—no!—it is not that. I have realized that the scowl, the snarls, the screams and the expletives you give me are not just for me. You betray my trust outright, giving the same glances to everyone you meet. You whore, I suppose if I did not care so much and stopped wasting my time on you, you would have a change of heart, correct? Right?

Wrong, you would be devastated, Doctor, because I know you better than you know yourself. The only thing I do not know about you is your smile.

Please, smile for me...?

I am not good at cheering people up, and I have realized that, but I have never cared so much for one person—for a woman, no less—and I find myself daydreaming about you. About us. About your smile. And I have come to the realization that I will never get to see it. Is it because you want to cause me pain? That would be just, considering what kind of person you are. It is all fun and games, Doctor, but I have feelings too. If you cannot see me, then you cannot see my feelings, can you?

But I try to have these feelings for you, Doctor!

Even if I do not quite understand them myself.

Perhaps the object of my affection's smile is like the fall of a sunset. So beautiful to look at and radiant, divine. Signifying the start of new beginnings. But eventually that fades away into nothingness. The darkness morphs into that destructive frown...

I can only imagine it. The tantalizing thought of seeing her smile is almost overwhelming, but I want to see her smile for me and me only. In my world, her smiles are adorable and I adore them. I love each and every one I get. So I love making her smile. The little crinkles around her eyes and the gleam in them... The shy gestures she has and the way she looks straight at me when she grins from ear to ear... In my mind, I love her smiles and what they do to me.

I have to remember that there is a princess sitting in front of me with her bare legs folded over each other, sepia skin painted with shadows and the light next to her an enviable star at her fingertips. I stare at the chocolate banquet of curls tumbling down her back as I mentally trace her chaste lips with my fingers. In my world, her darling green eye would curiously watch the habitual motions in my hand. When she works up the nerve to speak to me, an Edenic galaxy is born. The unloved creature blends into the darkness, wondering when her name will ever be released from the prison of my throat.

I smirk with my usual disposition.

She cannot possibly understand that what started out as a crush became an obsession. She was fierce, strong, intense and skilled and could not stop running that foul mouth of hers, her eye burning like a green flame with a rage and hatred I had not yet earned and could not understand. So what did I do to make her hate me? Her hate was just there, not aimed at me originally, but when it found a target it exploded because she was insane, absolutely crazy, and all of that insanity was pointed at me, turned against me, and for me.

I knew I wanted to hurt her so badly, to tear her to little pieces so that she could not grin maliciously and laugh and taunt me, and I knew I wanted to touch her so badly—to have her touch and taunt me and burn me with her fingertips... So badly my hands would spasm with the desire to reach them out to touch her. I wanted to feel more alive because of her, so the conflict and desire to both fight with her and love her... That is what started it all.

How can I get her to smile again?

Challenge me with your smile.

Suddenly the fake excuse for a smile disappears from her gorgeous face, but she does not frown. She is puzzled at the upset look on my face and quirks a brow. I have to stop that insidious grimace... Her whispered words are laced with smiles—smiles that assault my ears, talking about simple things sprinkled with malice and swear words. A common thing with the Doctor.

Deny me and I will argue every tid and bit, Doctor!

I see it in her eyes and I read it off her crimson lips. The way she gives me her catty smirk. She thinks that she will win. I will let her do so gladly if it will permit me permission to look at her smile. It will be a dance between me and her. She can throw me down and crush me swiftly, break and make me; own every part of me. She can shatter me to pieces if she so desires—conquer me completely. If that is what it takes to see her smile... Then she can clash against and overwhelm me.

How is it that you never notice? Doctor, robots have more heart, and I hope that some day it penetrates your shell that you mean everything to me. That your armchair is a gilded throne in my world. Notice my glances, the emotion saturated in my eyes between blinks of feathery fringe, and feel my touch glancing off your arm like a badly aimed arrow. Hear my gossamer whisperings filled with meaning that always seem to fall on deaf ears.

"Smile for me" is not a scurrilous, taboo phrase, so do not scrunch your face up at me when I ask you to.

If you feel the most miniscule twinge of affection, do not keep me waiting for what should obviously be mine.

Suddenly I find my lips upon hers and my tongue swirling upon flesh from the gods. But then my nose twitches, but only for a moment. She does not deserve this. She does not deserve anything. Because I do not deserve her smile, or so she thinks. But I do not let my anger show. Because one day, the smile that she wears in my world will become a reality. I will make her smile, because her smile is beautiful. But if she will not smile for me now, I have to make the smiles of others vanish.

Why should they be able to do something she is incapable of doing?

She is perfect without a smile.

And so will everyone else be.

I will take over this world and erase every ounce of happiness... Every trace of laughter... Because if she does not have it, then no one will. It will be blasphemous. No one will be able to have so much as a slight grin on their face. When I become the new king, it will be my word, and people will follow it. It will be a place where I will never see that damned frown because it will never exist. If I get rid of those happy grins, frowns will not subsist, and therefore she can stay alluring.

All of this, just to see her smile.

I will watch civilizations fall and people die all around me just to see her smile.

I love her, I swear I do. I need her like she needs me, but she needs me more because she cannot possibly live without me. And she will do anything... Anything for me. And that makes me smirk. She is addicted to me. So please, Doctor, shut up and look at my lips. Because you will not smile, I laugh. Because you will not show me your grin, I will watch you fall on your face and fall off the edge of the earth. I will continue to taunt you because I have you trapped in my world now, and you cannot use that manipulative grin of yours to get out of it.

I do not deserve your smile?

You will be my little love slave and will do whatever I ask, and I will be sure to mistreat and abuse you in every way possible. But knowing you, you probably think this is me being nice!

Do not worry; I will think of you as you are drowning in all of your angst. Just think of all the things we'll do today, my smitten friend.

She smiles against my lips, thinking she has won this game once more.

Silly girl, I will warp you so hard you won't know what a smile is.

Smile that pretty face you make at me forever. That face I will never forget to look at over and over again. Kiss my lips like they are on fire. Smile, darling. You are beautiful. Smile big and show it. Just smile through your cracked teeth and bloody gums, because that frown does not make you look like the woman in my world.

And the smile you so expertly put on—the mask you so ingeniously hide beneath... Smile the smile that matches the laughter from your flawless lips.

Smile the smile you never let yourself feel.

Let it be your last.

You are dying. Smile.