there is something beautiful, and so real, about the way that yaz fell in love with the doctor. they say that yaz's love came from nowhere, but it didn't. it came from those little quirks the doctor has, and the way her face lights up when she sees a biscuit. it came from late nights on a tardis, and unspoken words behind heartfelt speeches. it came from stolen glances and slight touches. it came from the promise of an infinity at the side of a mad, incredible woman. this love, it buried itself in the darkest parts of yaz's heart and settled there, growing ever so slightly, until all she could see was the doctor. it did not come from nowhere, it came from the moments we had missed, and it grew until we could not deny it anymore.
their story didn't start as one of passion, longing and unwavering love. it started as a crush, one that yaz didn't even realize, and it turned into something so beautiful and real.
i don't understand why people struggle so much to accept that yaz loves the doctor. how can we not expect her to fall in love with the doctor? falling in love with the impossible was the most human thing she could've done.
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Do you wanna know what's making me sad today? During the séance in Merrick, even when Claudia's telling Louis to kill himself, and she's hurting him in every way possible (both emotionally and physically), Louis was still more concerned for her than he was for himself.
"Merrick, don't let her go into uncertain darkness. Merrick, guide her!"
Even after he's been ridiculed and stabbed by her, he still can't bear the thought of her suffering. He still wants to protect her and ensure she'll be alright. No matter what Claudia does, no matter what she says, no matter how badly she hurts Louis, she will always be his little girl in his eyes.
And I suppose that's part of the problem, is that he still sees her as a child. But at the same time, he's a parent, and parents will always have an aspect of seeing their children as their babies, no matter how old they are. And they'll always have that instinct to love and protect them. Louis is simply a father loving and grieving for his daughter.
What also breaks me, is later that night after the séance, when Louis' talking to David. At the beginning of the book, it says how Jesse and David have heard the sound of music and bird song, but Louis hasn't, and this upsets him.
"Oh, I know it must be tantalizing," I said, finally. "It's so easy to conclude that we're coming close."
"No," he said, turning to me politely. "Don't you see, David? You heard the music. I haven't heard it. Jesse heard the music. I've never heard it. Never. And I've been years waiting to hear it, asking to hear it, wanting to hear it, but I never do."
His French accent was sharp and precise, as always happened when he was emotional, and I loved the richness it gave
to his speech.
That night, in the middle of a conversation with David, Louis stops and looks likes he's listening to something.
"David, do you hear it?" he asked with mounting excitement. "David, listen!" [. . .] "David, listen to it. It's all around us." He rose to his feet, his left hand still pressed to the pain he felt. "David, it's Claudia, it's the music, it's the harpsichord. I hear it all around us. David, she wants me to come. I know it."
The way he goes from sadness to pure joy and excitement at what he thinks is a sign from Claudia is so sad, especially after everything he's experienced. For so long he's longed to hear the sound of the music, for so long he's been living in his misery, and now this one thing is what makes him happy. He's so deep in his own depression, that even after the events with Claudia, he's convinced this is her doing, and he's joyful about it.
He was gazing off, mesmerized and comforted, and his eyes were glazed and his face was softened and unchallenging.
"I know that sonata. I remember it. And yes, she loved it, she loved it because Mozart had written it when he was only a child. You can't hear, can you? But you did once, think back on it. It's so very lovely, and how fast she plays, my Claudia."
He made a dazed laugh. The tears thickened; his eyes were veiled in blood.
Louis immediately finds peace and comfort in hearing the ghosts of the past, like he can really feel Claudia right there with him in the flat. He also acknowledges how she loved Mozart so much because he found success at such a young age, and he realises how Claudia found solace in that in a way. She may have felt less alone in knowing that there had been someone else who, despite their young age, had seemed so beyond their years. And the way Louis refers to her as 'my Claudia', shows how he's still so immensely proud of her, and how he still feels nothing but love for her.
"I hear the birds singing. Listen. I hear them in their cage. The others—all our kind who know of her—they think of her
as heartless, but she wasn't heartless. She was only aware of things which I didn't learn till so many decades had passed.
She knew secrets that only suffering can teach. . . ."
His voice trailed off. He pulled back gracefully from my grasp and he walked to the center of the room. He turned about
as though the music were truly surrounding him.
Louis is aware of the fact that Claudia did what she did as a result of her suffering and her pain at being trapped, both in her child's body and by her fathers. It's like he can't bring himself to see any wrong in what she did. Louis knows that because of her predicament, it caused her to see the world in a way he wouldn't be able to understand, until he too has experienced great pain in his life.
Claudia was far more experienced in her suffering than he or anyone else could ever give her credit for. What she went through was a very personal and individual experience, that couldn't have been taught by her directly, but through Louis' own journey through life.
"Don't you see what a kindness she's done?" he whispered. "It's going on and on, David, it's getting all the more rapid. Claudia, I'm listening to you." He broke off, and turned again, his eyes moving over everything yet seeing, nothing. "Claudia, I'll be with you very soon."
He's so convinced that what he's hearing is Claudia trying to communicate with him. He genuinely believes that she's doing him a favour by giving him permission to leave this life, and join her in death. He's so desperate and so blinded by his grief and his love for her, that he's willing to do the unthinkable, in the hopes that it might please her and release them both from their hurt.
He stood still with his head bowed. His hands had dropped to his sides. He seemed infinitely sad and infinitely defeated.
"Has it stopped?" I asked.
"Yes," he whispered. Slowly he looked up, lost for the moment, then getting his bearings.
The second he can't hear the music anymore, Louis feels as though he's lost that connection with Claudia; the one bit of communication from her he felt he had left. The thought that he's lost her all over again brings him back down to the reality of the situation: that Claudia's no longer with him.
As for him, he stood as before, elegant in his faded black, a man dreaming, the blood dried in his eyes and giving him a
dreadful look, as he stared off again, distant from my heated compassion, cutting himself off from any solace I could
bring.
"You'll meet me tomorrow," I said.
He nodded. "The birds are gone now," he whispered. "I can't even hum the music inside my head." He seemed unbearably distressed.
There's nothing that David can do to reach Louis at this point. The only thing that can bring him any sort of comfort is Claudia, and having some form of connection with her again. Even after David tries to make him promise they'll meet, to try and convince Louis not to do anything, all Louis can do is vaguely acknowledge it before going back to what he previously heard.
He's heartbroken that after all this time of not hearing anything, he finally had what he thought was communication with Claudia, only for it to disappear again like it never even happened. That music and bird song were the only things bringing him comfort, and now it's gone, along with Claudia, lost to him once again.
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