I — yes, yes, I am married to River, was married to River, but it's — [ Complicated. And, well, she's sort of ... dead. Except she's not, not when he'd bumped into her last, and not the River on this station either.
He huffs a frustrated breath, because this is all coming out wrong, and his thoughts are all scrambled up and aren't being said properly. They're not the right words; they're not the right thoughts.
The Doctor closes his eyes, lets Clara's touch buoy him, guilty that it could soothe him so when he hardly deserves it. He's absolutely horrible at this sort of thing, and he's afraid, so desperately afraid that the wrong thing will hurt her too badly. Strange that a few adventures in each other's company could bring him to this, but there's always been something about Clara Oswald in his orbit, a mystery he needs to solve. ]
Clara — [ He starts, mouth open, but nothing comes out. Even still, she remains so strong and stoic and kind and caring, and so very frustratingly Clara, that the Doctor finds himself at a (rare) loss. ]
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He huffs a frustrated breath, because this is all coming out wrong, and his thoughts are all scrambled up and aren't being said properly. They're not the right words; they're not the right thoughts.
The Doctor closes his eyes, lets Clara's touch buoy him, guilty that it could soothe him so when he hardly deserves it. He's absolutely horrible at this sort of thing, and he's afraid, so desperately afraid that the wrong thing will hurt her too badly. Strange that a few adventures in each other's company could bring him to this, but there's always been something about Clara Oswald in his orbit, a mystery he needs to solve. ]
Clara — [ He starts, mouth open, but nothing comes out. Even still, she remains so strong and stoic and kind and caring, and so very frustratingly Clara, that the Doctor finds himself at a (rare) loss. ]
Where does this leave us now?