It was almost seven in the morning when Clara began to regret getting classes this early. It was her introduction to philosophy class, and although she was quite excited, she didn't think it was such a good idea to be learning about Socrates that early. She hadn't even brought coffee with her, and she hoped her professor wasn't boring enough to make her fall asleep.

As she entered the lecture hall, she wasn't surprised to find only about ten people sitting down already, some with hoods covering half their faces, others with visible bags under their eyes. Luckily for her, she wore the right makeup to cover her own bags. She lingered near the entrance pondering where exactly would she prefer sitting, when she spotted an older man at the top row alone. He had a laptop in front of him, and although he looked serious, he probably didn't mind if Clara joined him. He looked like the kind who wouldn't bother her with awkward unnecessary talk, so she began to walk and climb the stairs to get to the top row. When she went down the aisle to sit down, she thought it would be more polite to ask him first.

"Excuse me, sorry, is this seat taken?"

The man didn't even look up from his laptop, and simply shook his head as his long fingers rapidly typed away. Another person would find that way of responding quite rude, but Clara had no problem with it. She swiftly placed her bag on the stone floor and sat down, crossing her legs to look around. Approximately four more students came in, and Clara looked at the clock to realize there were still ten minutes left till class began. She turned to her right to look at the man and his laptop, yet she couldn't quite tell what he was working on. So instead, she took a better look at him. He looked to be in his fifties, very tall and lean, with just a nice hint of muscles under his black hoodie. He wore black doc martins with the ankle of his plaid trousers tucked in. Clara had to admit, the man was attractive, but seemed to be hanging onto his youth with his sense of style. Wait, hang on? Why was Clara even checking out this older man, who could of been her uncle, or worst, father.

She decided to tell herself it was out of boredom when her eyes fell upon the wild mess on his head. His hair was greying, but it was an array of messy curls, just the way she liked it. She was so intrigued by it, that when he spoke, she jumped.

"You're staring quite a lot." The man whispered in a thick Scottish accent, his eyes never leaving the screen. Clara twitched in her seat, fumbling for the right words to say, but the best that came out of her was, "No, I was staring your way, to the other side of the room."

The man snorted and leaned back into his chair, still typing away. "Yes, I'm sure you find the empty chairs on the other side of the room quite fascinating."

Clara rolled her eyes as she began to take out her notebook and three pens, one by one. She then leaned back and stared at his laptop's screen, curious as to what he could possibly be typing so vigorously.

"What are you working on?" Clara's curiosity got the best of her; her chin resting on her palm. The man paused a minute, as if rereading what he wrote, then spoke quietly, "Writing."

Clara rolled her eyes and crossed her legs differently, shifting her chin from her left arm to the right, to get a better look at his computer screen. "Okay..but what kind of writing?" She asked slowly.

"The good kind."

Clara decided that perhaps she should sit next to a talkative person, as this old fool was boring her out of her mind.

"And what makes it so good?" She inquired.

The man finally looked up to give her an exasperated face, close enough that Clara could finally see him properly. His eyes were a piercing shade of blue and green, reminding her of the sea she much loved as a child, and his eyebrows were furious, almost as if they had a mind of they're own. There were lines drawn on him, and although he was much past her age, Clara actually found him even more attractive. She focused on his stare, and felt uncomfortable as his exasperated look turned into something warmer. But he looked confused and uncomfortable himself, as if he lost his composure. He cleared his throat after a few moments and spoke; Clara couldn't help but notice his tone of voice had changed into something softer.

"You're quite the questionnaire. I think I'll call you the asking questions one."

Clara smiled, "My name is Clara. Clara Oswald."

The man shifted in his seat, turning sideways so that his body faced her. "John Smith. You can call me Doctor Disco, however."

Clara snorted as she opened her notebook, pushing strings of hair out of her face. "Yes well, John will do."

John then stretched his legs out, somehow his composure less tense now that he took his concentration away from his laptop, and introduced himself. He turned his laptop screen a bit to his left, towards Clara, and she couldn't help but take a proper look at his screen. "What is it?" She whispered as she leaned in, scanning the many words written in a document.

"It's a novel I've been working on. A science fiction one, about time travel." John replied sheepishly. Clara nodded as she read quickly through the first page, catching words she was unfamiliar with such as "chameleon circuit" and "weeping angels". She assumed they were from his own creation, and she was impressed. Before she could comment on his work, the door opened and an older woman walked in, suitcase in hand.

"Well, that's my cue." John sighed as he shut his laptop close, and placed it back into his bag. He then brought out a cup of coffee he seemed to have on the floor, and another bottle of what seemed to be an energy drink. He then proceeded to open the drink and drain it into his coffee, mixing it with a quick shake and drinking it, long gulps as Clara stared in disgust and amusement. He paused for a minute, squeezing his eyes together, the furious eyebrows greeting each other. He opened them and stared at Clara blankly, "I'm going to die in this class."

Clara looked at him in horror as he drank the last of the concoction, then he whispered, "This'll do the trick. Help me get through this class and now that I'm more awake, I can properly appreciate how pretty you are."

Clara blushed as she turning her head to stare at the now lecturing professor instead, but she couldn't concentrate. She was thinking of how bizarre her day was at this time in the morning, sitting next to an attractive older man in quite the outfit, who just drank what could be poison, and who bluntly complimented her. Clara didn't know what made her do this, but she thought it was worth a shot. She began to gather her things quickly, and nudged John, who looked at her with a quizzical look.

"Let's get out of here and I'll get your old grumpy ass a proper cup of coffee." Clara hissed. John smith grinned as he gathered his own things, and the pair of them sneaked out of the class as quickly as they could.