MADMAN ♔ ;}

❛ You’re just jealous ‘cause your souffle is burnt ❜                    (she totally didnt swap their souffles)

              ❝ my souffle isn't burnt - it's perfect. mine are always better than your- ... ❞

                                       ———-       ╳   ♟☢   ╳       ———-

                                                                              ❝ quite. but not completely.                                                                                   why, doctor? why is it?                                                                                   q̈üïẗë is not a word you use                                                                                   when you’re really comfortable. ❞

               there's a sigh at the other's words, yet lips stay curved in a complex smile.

"Where’s the fun in that, dearie?"

because she’s clara oswald, she always knows. she always knows when it comes to sentiment. she always knows when it comes to little things. she always knows when it comes to him. so, she definitely knows when it comes to little things he is sentimental about. he needn’t even admit it so openly. accostumed  to ( as well as loving of ) his childish mannerisms as she is, she knows this is important &  can’t help the way the chocolate in her eyes immediately melts, warmth then dripped to the curve of her smile. still, there’s a bitter flavour lingering at the tip of her tongue. curiosity ( not at all unusual ), tainted with a tiny bit of jealousy ( alarming & corrosive). she wishes to ask why he is so very fond of that hat ( or stricly to the point, because of whom ) to the point where it burns her tongue, but a pinch of awareness that it was none of her business ( & that he was giving it to her anyway ) ends the recipe of that cherished gesture of his on a sweet note.  ❛  will do. only the best of adventures for your, my  —— hat thingy. promise. now, less chat & more adventure ❜

                      watching her is always the most interesting part of his day.   the  way her                       lips move into that smile, the seamless transition in thought on her face                       - he can see each twitch of a muscle & each little glint in her eye.  yet, in                       the    end,     it    all    confuses     him    more    than     he'd    like    it    to.

                       there's a reason he's given her his hat; he wants her to know he cares.

                       his own transition begins to occur,  his goofy smile slowly lowering  into                        something kind & reminiscent of fascination. of course, in a time where                        things  could be explained, they jump to adventure  instead. he turns on                        his heel toward the console  &  begins to flick his fingers over switches                        &  press at buttons.  all of his movements always seeming random but                        having perfect coordination.   the dance between himself & the console                        is one only he knows.  his  hand  then  hovers  over  the  lever for a brief                        second before he goes  to peer at her.  his lips quirk into a smile as he                        steps away from it.