[For the Doctor]
The days have started to seem long to Gwen. Whether it's anxiety or the return to Compound living she can't be certain, but time seems to be marching with increasing slowness, endeavoring to remind her of exactly everything she's lacking.
She misses home -- Which the Treehouse is (was) now, and not Cardiff -- but she's resolved herself to not be swayed by Rob's wide eyes and insistent pleas. This isn't about them, it's about something bigger. Last Sunday morning was difficult, but she was there, carefully avoiding talking about it.
Just now, she's sitting cross-legged on the beach, watching everything and nothing in particular, the novel that she'd known she wouldn't read laying abandoned beside her in the sand. The spot she's chosen is Lagoon Side, because it's quieter here, less traveled. She wishes she could relax -- Really, honestly relax -- but she's not certain she remembers how to do that anymore.
She misses home -- Which the Treehouse is (was) now, and not Cardiff -- but she's resolved herself to not be swayed by Rob's wide eyes and insistent pleas. This isn't about them, it's about something bigger. Last Sunday morning was difficult, but she was there, carefully avoiding talking about it.
Just now, she's sitting cross-legged on the beach, watching everything and nothing in particular, the novel that she'd known she wouldn't read laying abandoned beside her in the sand. The spot she's chosen is Lagoon Side, because it's quieter here, less traveled. She wishes she could relax -- Really, honestly relax -- but she's not certain she remembers how to do that anymore.