FIC: There Are Things
Title: There Are Things
Rating: G
Length: 235
Pairing(s): Ten/Rose, Eleven/Rose
Summary: There are things I've lost that I will never get back.
[See the end of the fic for notes.]
They find the words scrawled on a white-washed wall.
Rose pulls at the lapels of her jacket, crossing her arms against her chest. “Feels like fall,” she whispers to herself, recalling the way seasons shift on Earth. In her adventures with the Doctor, Rose has seen frozen worlds and blistering worlds and flowering worlds, but this one's a first. The air around her is cool, yet gentle, and it smells like autumn.
The Doctor takes a step closer, the bottom hem of his overcoat catching in a breeze and brushing against Rose's bare ankles. He rests a hand on her shoulder and his warmth slips through her veins. Neither of them looks away from the writing on the wall.
“Who do you think wrote it?” Rose runs her fingertips along the words. “Someone lonely, I suppose.”
The Doctor's hand moves from her shoulder, travels along her arm to take the hand pressed against the wall. “I don't think he was lonely.”
“No?”
“I think he was wise. A wise fellow knows when he's loved and lost.”
there are things i've lost that i will never get back
Time contorts and curves and weaves and sometimes he just knows. He takes Amy to the wall of confessions a few days after a white-washing. He takes the pen she digs out of her purse and writes his confession.
A wise bloke knows when he's loved and lost.
Notes: Written for challenge #50 at then_theres_us. [IMPORTED 03/30/2012.]
Rating: G
Length: 235
Pairing(s): Ten/Rose, Eleven/Rose
Summary: There are things I've lost that I will never get back.
[See the end of the fic for notes.]
They find the words scrawled on a white-washed wall.
Rose pulls at the lapels of her jacket, crossing her arms against her chest. “Feels like fall,” she whispers to herself, recalling the way seasons shift on Earth. In her adventures with the Doctor, Rose has seen frozen worlds and blistering worlds and flowering worlds, but this one's a first. The air around her is cool, yet gentle, and it smells like autumn.
The Doctor takes a step closer, the bottom hem of his overcoat catching in a breeze and brushing against Rose's bare ankles. He rests a hand on her shoulder and his warmth slips through her veins. Neither of them looks away from the writing on the wall.
“Who do you think wrote it?” Rose runs her fingertips along the words. “Someone lonely, I suppose.”
The Doctor's hand moves from her shoulder, travels along her arm to take the hand pressed against the wall. “I don't think he was lonely.”
“No?”
“I think he was wise. A wise fellow knows when he's loved and lost.”
there are things i've lost that i will never get back
Time contorts and curves and weaves and sometimes he just knows. He takes Amy to the wall of confessions a few days after a white-washing. He takes the pen she digs out of her purse and writes his confession.
A wise bloke knows when he's loved and lost.
Notes: Written for challenge #50 at then_theres_us. [IMPORTED 03/30/2012.]