entrancelogs | I'm trying not to sleep

Entry tags:

I'm trying not to sleep

Who: Clara & anyone! (totally open)
Where: Around the mansion
When: The week after the shadow event
Rating: TBA
Summary: When you have a terrible shadow event, it's time to stay busy to forget about it
The Story: Clara is beyond humiliated.

She's lost a great deal of her pride, she's fractured almost every single relationship she's formed in her time here, and she's at a loss as to what she needs to do to make herself feel better. So the best solution in her mind is simply not to think about it and stay busy. She can't act like any of the things her shadow said never happened, of course, but she doesn't have to linger on it. There's too much hurt there for her, and it's best to just build up some walls on the inside and close it off and away. And sleep? Forget about it, there's way too much time to have thoughts loiter on everything that went wrong, or have pesky dreams slip in, and that's definitely not something she wants to have happen.

On Tuesday, she has plans with both Luke and Owen, and despite not being up to her usual spirited nature she's grateful for the chance to interact with the both of them without shadows present.

On Wednesday, she thinks she has self-defense lessons but also spends a good portion of the day sprawled out in the sun at the beach. She's not usually a beach dweller and she doesn't usually sunbathe, but she thinks it's the perfect place to read through some Jules Verne. Journey to the Center of the Earth was a childhood favorite, and it makes her feel safe and nostalgic so she's grateful that the library has a copy on hand just waiting for her.

On Thursday, she spends her time out in the gardens, working on both drawing and painting. Her lessons with Whale have left her eager to continue practicing, working on a drawing of white roses which she has every intention of painting red by the end of the day. If someone happens across her, she's more than likely to grab hold of them and convince them to pose for her so she can attempt a more complicated subject.

Friday finds Clara holed up in the library, a stack of books on space piled up around her. She's sitting cross legged on the floor, and the pile of books towers above her, constantly wobbling as if they're about to topple at any given second. There's fiction, non-fiction, and even some picture books at her side. She started the day out reading for research but now has an old, worn copy of The Little Prince in hand. It brings back memories of her mother, and those are always good to hold onto when she's having a difficult time.

The rest of the weekend is spent either at the swimming pool or her room. The pool she's never really used before, so it's nice to just float around and stare up at nothing in particular. It's a funny feeling, just aimlessly floating, doing nothing for hours on end. She almost feels guilty for it, but it's a nice break from being cooped up in the library. When she's in her room she's working on painting her walls, trying to complete constellations for the night sky she's painted across every single wall. She's not much of an artist, but this has given her something to do in her time here, and the project is almost complete. There's even a little TARDIS painted right up above her bed.

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"Glad for that. I dunno what I'd do with a dead body on my bed."

And oh, she feels that part of him that's just a bit too lively and interested in what's going on. Eyebrows arch and she laughs at his assessment, and she takes initiative to kiss him once again. It's teasing, meant to pull more of a reaction out of him. She knows that it's a game of back and forth with them, of give and take, of push and pull. He's constantly the one testing the boundaries and pushing forward, and she's usually unsure of what she's doing and stumbles along after him. But not in this moment, oh no. She figures it's okay to be the slightly forward one every now and then.

"It'd be awfully inconv-" And the rest of what he'd intended to say is cut off by Clara's kiss, not that he minds at all. Give him too much time to talk, and he'll inevitably put his foot in it somehow. But kissing? He's had enough practice that he's quite comfortable with it, thank you, and it's a much easier sort of interaction than talking.

Easier for him, maybe. Every moment of this for Clara is figuring out how assertive she can be without it being forceful, as well as being aware of the fact that her control is being lost entirely. It's a dizzying feeling, those two things combined, and the fact that he's incredibly good with his mouth doesn't help matters any. It's been a long time since she's been in this sort of situation, too long. So when she breaks away this time she's completely dumbstruck, mouth agape and staring up at him.

"Inconvenient?" She finishes his thought for him at long last, and hopes he can't feel the way her heart is racing with how close they are together. She laughs at herself, because what else can she do when she feels like a complete idiot?

"Yeah, that," Owen agrees. He's a little dazed and a little breathless right now - but, more than that, he feels alive in a way that has him craving physical contact. He runs his hand down her spine, along the small of her back; he's almost forgotten what it's like to touch another person, to be this close to someone and feel their heart beating. It's exhilarating, and his control is fraying little by little.

She laughs at the both of them, they're just like teenagers right now. Of course, her first kiss all the way back then hadn't been quite so intense or good, but the aftermath's pretty much the same. Now that she's more familiar with Owen, and he knows quite a few of her secrets, she's more comfortable so his hands on her don't make her tense this time. Quite the opposite, actually, he pulls goosebumps out of her as the feel of being touched sends a sigh inducing shiver up and down her spine. She doesn't even bother trying to mask the sound like she normally would, either. That's definitely progress. Idly, her fingers brush his cheek, down along his jawline, pausing right over his lips.

"You okay?" It's a light tease, something breathy and warm.

"Bit more than okay, I reckon. How 'bout you?" Owen quirks an eyebrow, amusement evident in his eyes. He kisses her fingertips lightly, then tilts his head to kiss her palm, watching her for her reaction. It's like playing a silent guessing game, trying to figure out what she might be okay with, just how far he can push her. His fingers trail along the curve of her hip, and while he's almost tempted to go farther, he lingers there for the moment.

She doesn't form an answer right away, instead her eyes stay on his, watching him as he watches her react. Her mouth drops open at the kiss to her palm, the tickling sensation of that is definitely drowned out by a tingle that thrums through her entire body. She bites at her lip just in time to stop a gasp from entirely making its way out, but enough of it is heard that her cheeks turn red and she squirms up against him. She's so used to being in total control of everything that this is entirely disorienting.

Clara's instinctive motion makes Owen inhale sharply as he reacts, rolling his hips up to meet hers. "Going to take that as a yes, then," he tells her, his lips brushing against her palm as he speaks. "Glad we're in agreement on our mutual...okay-ness." He's torn, though; while it's fairly obvious that he wants to keep going, part of him - the part that noticed that embarrassed blush - wants to tell her that it's all right to stop if she's not comfortable, even though he knows she knows that.

"Definitely okay." The words come out in a rush, her eyes still not daring to break away from his. She enjoys watching his reactions just as much as he seems to with hers. And her reaction to his hips against hers most definitely is something, a sharp breath of air taken in and a hip roll of her own. She didn't even think about that one, her body just is reacting on its own. Her free hand instantly grips hold of his hip, fingers digging in. She's not sure if she wants to still him at this point or not, but she really needs something to hold onto so her fingers flex, until the sharp tingling sensation subsides and she can be a bit more gentle.

"But I can't," She finally whispers it out, her eyes finally looking down and away from his. "Not yet. Want to, but it's not right yet."

"'s all right," he reassures her, reaching out and tipping her chin up to look at him again. He wants it, of course; that fact is far too obvious to hide. But he's not going to pressure her to do anything she doesn't want to, either. In a past life, with someone else, maybe he might have done just that - but not here and now, and not with Clara. Not with whatever fragile not-a-relationship thing they've got, and which Owen finds he quite likes. "Maybe someday, yeah? It's only our second date, after all. If you want to get technical about it."

"That's right. Girl's gotta hold out until at least the third or fourth."

And until after she doesn't have any moral issues to worry about, such as feeling like she's doing the wrong thing by him if she agrees to. There's a part of her that's also afraid he might lose interest after, and while she doesn't mind casual sex or things that happen in the heat of the moment, she doesn't want to ruin whatever it is they have going. She surprises herself in the moment by realizing that she'd be quite upset if whatever it is was over, due to his losing interest.

So she smiles up at him, wondering if he thinks it's because she's inexperienced and afraid. The thought actually gets her to chuckle, because he'll be in for a surprise someday. The kiss she gives him then is entirely apologetic, short and chaste and reluctant to become something that would just be considered a tease.

"You can still stay, if you want. Don't mind that." Of course it might be a bit awful to offer that, realizing that he's got a...problem he'll need to be taking care of or suffer through if he doesn't.

While Owen thinks there's a pretty decent chance she might be inexperienced, he's decided it's more likely down to fear - not fear of sex itself, but fear of letting someone close to her, and fear of feeling like she's losing control. He can understand her first fear all too well, though he's always used casual sex as a way to keep people at a distance while fooling them into thinking that he's letting them closer.

(It's not like that at all with Clara, and that scares him almost as much as it does her.)

"Yeah, all right." Ianto's probably in his room anyway, which makes taking care of things a little difficult. "Though it would help if you sort of. Um. Moved a bit." Sorry, Clara, but it's hard to think unsexy thoughts when you're on top of him.

"Oh." Right, of course, she should've done that by now. Carefully, she moves to the side, scooting over a bit. Sitting up, she straightens out her dress. "Sorry," she smirks up in his direction, giving a shrug of her shoulders. She sounds apologetic by it, at least.

"Should've done that right away. Guess I was a bit...distracted."

"That makes two of us," he remarks dryly as he sits up, moving to where he lean back against the headboard. Yeah, this isn't going to be awkward at all. "So, what do you reckon we ought to try for dinner next week?" He's assuming she still wants to have dinner with him, anyway; it's not like they have to get physical afterwards. He's just fine with a perfectly normal dessert.

It's not awkward for her, at least, which is a pleasant surprise. She scoots up to lean against the headboard herself, making sure to situate herself on the opposite side of the bed. Better to give him plenty of breathing room and all. At his question, she thinks it over, making a show of it as if she might be reconsidering.

"Dunno." It's followed by a shrug, and she turns her head to look up at him. She's got one of her playful smirks and eyebrows arched, and it's obvious she's toying with him a bit. "Thinking we might try for something alien, next time. Give us a bit of an adventure."

"Alien," he echoes, glancing down at her. Yeah, he knows that look when he sees it, Clara, especially considering how often she uses it on him. "Seems a bit...non-specific, don'tcha think? You tell the closet 'Give me some alien food', it might reward you with something completely inedible, like rocks. I bet there are aliens out there who eat rocks - I mean, the right rocks might be high in calcium, but they don't really have much else nutritional value. Empty calories, really."

"Got a point, I wager." Which is sad, really, as she was really wanting something entirely new and different. With a huff, she folds her arms over her chest and slouches down against the headboard, trying to figure out another course of action. "What about you, though? I picked this time, you get next choice."

And maybe she can learn a bit more about him based on what he chooses.

"That's the thing with magic, isn't it? In all those stories and shit. You always have to be incredibly specific with what you want, or else it'll backfire on you - like that one about the monkey's paw, where you get three wishes?" It's a crap story, and a hackneyed one, but it's the best example Owen can think of.

He contemplates this for a moment. "Lebanese," he decides finally. "I mean, I know you can get a lot of falafel and kebabs and whatnot back home, but that sort of thing's all been Anglicised, you know? Like Indian food has been."

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I'm trying not to sleep

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