She knew she should answer the phone, maybe even tell him she wasn't interested and that giving him her number was a mistake. Clara knew that was a complete lie though.

So Clara laid there, listening to the ringing of her cell phone all day. The first time he called was in the morning at ten and she had decided against getting up to answer, figuring it was Peter calling. Clara didn't know why she had given him her number, she guessed it was the way he smiled at her. It made something in her stomach flutter in the best possible way. Clara didn't want this. She didn't want to feel love-struck or like she had a crush. That just wasn't her anymore. She wasn't the love-struck type. Especially after what happened to Danny...

But this man... Damn, he wasn't making her feel ever so foolish and fluttery.

She knew she either had to make some sort of move or tell him that she wasn't interested, but she didn't want to do either. Clara was feeling some sort of anxiety that she hadn't felt in quite some time. She fancied him, but she wouldn't dare admit it to herself. 

So she let the phone ring for three days, three days of anxiously waiting for the phone to quit ringing. Why wouldn't Clara just let herself find somebody? He probably only wanted to go on a date for now, she could do that, right? A date is nothing, a date is food and small talk. That's it. Finally on the fourth day, Clara called him back. She had guessed he had given up on contacting her so she was daring and called him. 

The phone began to ring and as she held the phone up to her ear she felt her hands begin to shake nervously. It's only a bloody date, Clara! she thought to herself. He probably isn't going to pick up now since I ignored him for three days, why would he want to talk to me now? And just as she was about to hang up and give up, the phone was answered. 

"Hello?" Peter answered. "Clara?" 

Clara went silent for a moment, not knowing what to say. God she was so nervous. "U-Uh, hey! Yeah, it's me." 

"So, I called you." his Scottish accent rang through the phone and something about it made her swoon. "You never picked up, lass." 

"Oh, yeah, sorry! I've been....ill! Yeah, ill! Barely gotten out of bed the last few days." Clara lied anxiously. 

She heard him chuckle through the phone. "Ya, know, if ya didn't want to go out wit--" he began but she cut him sort.

"No! I definitely want to go out with you sometime!" she said hastily. God, I probably sound like an idiot... "I'm sorry, I'm a very nervous person and social experiences make me sweat and you're so attractive I don't know what to say and now I'm rambling so I should shut up." 

Peter chuckled again but this time it was more of an adoring chuckle instead of a nervous one. "You could've just told me that instead of making me think you hated me or something." he said with a laugh. 

"Yeah, sorry.." Clara muttered. 

"But, you do want to go out?" he asked. 

"Definitely, yes." 

"Tomorrow, meet me at Kaffeine at three?" he asked softly. She could tell he wanted to be gentle with her, ease her into something romantic. But still she felt ever so anxious. "You know where that is?" 

"Yeah, Great Litchfield Street, right?" 

"Yeah, that's the place. So it's a date?" 

"Yes, see you then, bye." she said before hanging up. God, that was terrifying..

*******

Peter found himself grinning once he set his cell phone down. She was just a girl, a cute, kind lady who he had very quickly became fond of. Despite barely even though her, he could sense that it was more than just a crush. Clara was cute, shy at times it seemed. He had noticed it when she had looked at his paint-stained fingers. Maybe it was the fact that he was an artist that made her want to know him more? Something mysterious, right? 

But he knew nothing of her, not her age nor her occupation. What if she wasn't all she cracked up to be? He wasn't one to often take chances on complete strangers, honestly. Something drew Peter into her, like he had to be beside her that night at the club. Gravity perhaps? Fate? He didn't know, so he took a chance and hopefully it wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass. 

Instead of worrying about the small date any farther, he took out his paints and began to splatter paint on a huge canvas he had in his studio apartment. 

Peter's apartment was huge, full of light and most walls being made up of glass. He was eight stories up, being able to see the town beyond his home. He owned the top two stories of the building, the airy rooftop being the perfect place for him to paint during the summer. When he had found it five years ago, he knew he had to have it. But the large flat had became boring, lonely and too big for just him. He had tried dating before, forcing relationships on himself in a futile attempt to full a gap in himself. So Peter soon gave up on trying to date and instead let dating just happen, maybe being able to find love completely by chance. 

The studio flat got lonely at night when he went to bed, the city lights being shown through his glass walls, beaming into his rustic looking kitchen. The apartment was littered with unfinished paintings--either he had became too busy to finish them or never got his inspiration back--and random assortments of furniture. It oddly all fit in the oddness of it all, colours mixing and contrasting wonderfully--almost like his paintings. 

By the time he finished his newest painting, it was midnight and oddly, he realized that the randomly painted girl he had created in his mind looked a bit like his newly found muse, Clara. Oh yes, he definitely had to keep his new muse..

A/N: Sorry, this chapter is a bit drabbly, but I'm getting the plot really started now and its hard to not force the plot. I hope you enjoy! ALSO SORRY FOR THE RANDOM DATE LOCATION, I KNOW NOTHING OF LONDON OR THE UK SO I JUST PICKED A RANDOM PLACE IM SORRY