Shy

Summary: College/University AU. The Doctor realized that he didn't feel so alone once she came into his life.

Rating: K+

Notes: This guy that I sometimes talk to in my digital media class at school writes BEAUTIFUL poetry. He's really sweet, kinda shy, loves Doctor Who, so naturally, we get along. He doesn't know I write (actually, only one of my friends knows I write), but his poem really inspired this oneshot.

John Smith, or the Doctor walked into his 8am gothic literature lecture ten minutes early, as always. He found a spot in the front row of the hundred-seat lecture hall and unpacked his notebook and pen.

He was always early to class; he lived right on campus, but he left his apartment early every day in order to secure a good seat in each of his classes. The Doctor was part of a program where everyone was pretty close, and he knew everybody in his year, but he kept a low profile. Being in his third year of school, he took graduation seriously. The Doctor rarely went to parties with his classmates and focused mainly on his work. He knew he was an oddball with his grandfatherly attire and eccentric ways, and tended to stay away from his peers to not make a fool of himself.

The Doctor watched as other students started to file into the room. He nodded at those he knew from his program politely and simply ignored those he didn't. At 8:05, the professor came in, said good morning, and started to set up his slides for the class; his three friends, Vastra, Jenny and Strax filed in behind him.

"How are you today, Doctor?" Jenny asked him.

"Hm? I'm fine, I guess." He left it at that, busying himself writing the date and week number of today's class at the top of his page. He flipped through last week's notes and read over some of the important points.

"Alright, it's ten after, shall we start?" The professor said, quieting the class.

The Doctor listened attentively writing down important points about Frankenstein, the text they were currently studying.

At twenty after eight, his attention was drawn away when the door opened noisily and an unfamiliar face bolted through it, apologizing to the prof. She scanned the room for an empty spot and found only one, right beside him. She rummaged through her bag and found her binder, but couldn't seem to find her pen.

"Hey, do you think I could borrow a pen?" She asked him.

"Um, sure." He said to her as he handed over the spare he kept in his bag.

"Thanks a million, I'll get it to you after class." She said flashing him a wide smile.

The Doctor found it hard to focus for the rest of the class. He kept catching himself glancing over at her, reading her scattered mess of curvy shorthand notes. She was very focused, flipping through the book and following along every time the professor mentioned a specific quote. Her long brown hair kept falling into her eyes, and she huffed in annoyance every time she had to push it back.

Why haven't I seen this girl before?

He was so distracted by her. He couldn't bring himself to raise his hand and answer simple questions that the professor asked like he usually would. Even his notes for this week weren't that great; usually he was the one lending others his notes, but it looks like he'd have to talk to someone to fill him in.

Half way through the class, the professor let everyone go for a fifteen-minute break. The Doctor reached into his bag to get his phone when he heard the girl clear her throat pointedly.

He looked up at her, her chocolate brown eyes shining bright despite the early morning commute that inevitably came with an 8 am class.

"I'm Clara, sorry. Didn't introduce myself before I bombarded you looking for a pen." She giggled sweetly.

"John Smith, but my friends call me the Doctor."

"That's interesting, why's that?"

"I—I really don't know actually. It just kinda… stuck."

"Cool. You know, you sit up front every week. Trying to get on the prof's good side or something?" She joked.

"How do you know that?"

"Well I've seen you. I've been to every class, I'm bound to recognize people. Besides, I see you in the student lounges sitting there with your nose buried in a book."

"Are we—forgive me, but are we in the same program?"

"Yeah, I thought you knew that. Your friend Strax there was my frosh leader last year."

"Oh, so you're a year younger then. I guess that's why I haven't really seen you."

"Yeah, not really the same crowd I guess."

At that moment, the professor decided to start class back up again. The Doctor was once again distracted by her, but for a whole different reason.

Here she was, this beautiful, bright young girl, probably popular amongst her friends, friendly with all the professors, sitting beside him by chance. He couldn't understand how she could just start up a comfortable conversation with him so easily, like they had known each other forever. The Doctor was completely baffled by the fact that he himself felt comfortable talking to her. He liked to be alone, and people usually left him alone. But he wanted to talk to Clara; he wanted her keep talking just so he could hear her musical voice.

As they took notes, their elbows bumped on the desk. "Sorry!" She whispered over to him, smiling and giggling. He just looked back and mouthed "Spaz", sending her into a silent fit of laughter. Usually he wouldn't joke around with people that way. He was shy; he didn't do that.

The Doctor was confused. He really wanted to talk to her again, but he didn't want to wait until next week to do it. His heart thumped in his chest as he wrote three small words in the corner of his paper, and turned it towards her. He nudged her arm, getting her attention, then nodded down to the paper.

Starbucks after class?

She looked up at him, smiling, and nodded.

The Doctor thought he'd be able to focus more now that he had secured more time to talk to her, but he couldn't. He kept asking himself things like; this isn't a date, is it? What are we going to talk about? What if we run out of things to talk about? What if it's awkward? He instantly regretted asking her.

"Alright, for the last part of the class, I want you to team up and write a potential thesis statement for an essay on Frankenstein. Put your names on it and hand it in before you leave."

Clara turned towards him. "Alright. I don't know how far you are in the book, but I've finished it and I think we should talk about love."

"What?" He said, taken off guard.

"You know, the creature's desire to find a mate even though Victor doesn't want to marry. Like nature versus nurture."

"Oh yeah, that's a good one. I never thought about that."

"And here I thought you were clever!" He chuckled. His doubts had seemingly disappeared. She was such an interesting character, so bubbly and talkative, yet down to earth and extremely intelligent. He couldn't wait to get out of the lecture hall.

They finished their thesis rather quickly, and packed up their bags and left the class.

"So, why Starbucks?"

"Well, I always found it the best place to write. Atmosphere, you know? It can be inspiring."

"Funny you should say that, I always thought the same thing."

He chuckled and followed the strange girl down the street to the coffee shop. They spent all afternoon there, and then went for dinner when they were hungry. It became ritual for the two to meet in that Starbucks. It was where he officially asked her out, and shared their first kiss. It was where she first told him she loved him, and years later, where he got down on one knee and asked her to be his wife.