There's a first time for everything.
Follows this.He couldn't sleep, of course. It wasn't as if he'd truly tried. He'd stripped off his clothes, showered, shaved, puttered about in his jim-jams, but never really found his way to his own bed. His arm didn't hurt nearly so bad anymore, but he couldn't seem to stop his stomach from aching. Too
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This would've been the time for soft spoken words talking about emotions or how things felt between them. For some reason or maybe a hundred others all she wanted was the silence. The sound of her breathing, the steady thrum of her pulse beating a bit more rapid in her chest and echoing in her ears. No matter how much she tried not to pull herself against him again she couldn't find any real way to stop herself in that moment. That single brush of his fingers to her skin and she nearly ached to feel more of it. All this time, all these hours and timelines they'd crossed over and into and here all she wanted was for time to stop.
Rose let her body roll once more, shifting back to press to him again. It felt more solid this time, as if the way she fit to him before wasn't nearly perfect enough. Now though, now with her head fit beneath his chin once more and her knee slipping back between his legs, she fit. With her hand moving up across his chest and back over his shoulder she pulled herself against him, just wanting to be this way with him, whatever 'this way' was.
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But now? Right now? He wanted to hold Rose. She needed him and, well, she felt rather nice there, entwined with him like this. It was like she filled in his hard and cold places with her warmth and softness. Even how her head tucked underneath his chin felt good. It felt right. Like she belonged there.
Of course, he could've just been projecting an emotional response to a physical situation. Of course Rose didn't belong curled up like this with him. But he wasn't denying his feelings for her, and he didn't doubt they made her presence feel that much more right.
He wrapped one arm around her, pressing his hand to the small of her back. Her skin there was as warm as the skin on her arm, perhaps a little warmer. He swallowed, realizing his mind had gone rather silent all of a sudden. Maybe it was stunned by how the situation had suddenly progressed. First it was idle conversation and closeness, now they were entwined and silent.
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Words might take the tension out of the way, shove something between them like actual conversation once more. Yet the silence that was surrounding them felt like a way to muffle so much more than just the words she didn't know where to place, or her hand that was still so secure right where it had been resting. She could've moved it, could've let her fingers press up to their tips and slink down along his spine but she didn't want that... even if it really was what she felt like she wanted. To be held, to just have him fit to her in all the ways she never thought he would felt like nearly enough. Too much almost if she thought about it too much. Because this really wasn't natural for them, natural for so much of the world... of the universe but never for Rose and the Doctor.
Death wasn't a natural thing though, neither was most of what they witnessed and maybe that was why breaking beyond this barrier for the moment felt like it would be okay still in the morning. She knew she wasn't the type to want to curl up along side someone simply to fall asleep, and needed her space, her privacy as much as she was certain he needed his.
Yet here in this moment she needed him, and he was willing to be that for her. So Rose took it as he offered with the press of his hand to her back and the way his chin rested atop her head. She took it as she shifted her features to bury against his neck once more, her mouth pressing warmth back to his skin. She took it all as her breathing in deeper pushed her curves against his chest and then away as she exhaled. If he'd give her the world she'd have taken that in too just so that she knew she wasn't quite as alone as she felt.
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His thumb traced over the skin of her back as he held her. A small circle, nothing too ridiculous or complicated. It was a very simple motion to keep the rest of him still. In his life he often felt like a shark; he had to keep swimming, keep moving. But right now he didn't want to move, didn't want to change how comfortable he and Rose were.
Maybe that was why they'd never progressed much further than very close friends. He was always too afraid of moving forward, of disrupting the comfortable. Romana once told him that by the time he figured out what he wanted, the woman he loved would have already moved on, gotten married, had a bunch of kids, and completely forgotten him. But he had time with Rose, didn't he? He always worked under the impression that she wasn't going to leave, that meant he had time. Right?
She shifted again, this time her mouth near his throat, her breath warm on his neck. It was not an unsensual sensation and somewhere in his mind he thought he should remark on that. Instead, all he could think was how very alive she felt next to him. Breathing, her single heart beating against him. There had been a lot of unnecessary death in the last two days and the part of him that refused to show itself during the battle began to surface. The part of him that was afraid. It was the part of him that locked Rose away from the battle, that always, always locked her away from even the possibility of dying.
He was afraid of losing her.
"Rose." His voice found itself again, albeit quiet, just a whisper.
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Now the blackness was back at her front step and taking things that were dear to her, and she wanted to slip into it along with them. She wasn't even sure if that was the right response to it either. Such loss already in her life that by now it should be easier. Letting go, moving on, they should almost be a natural part of how she exists. Instead it burns into her soul and nearly chokes the air from her. So this is the need she has in her now. The need to be held onto, the need to not be let go, or left behind clings to her. But he still does and she knows that forever isn't a real word for her, but it is for him.
When he speaks her eyes are still closed and she can feel the vibration of her name in his throat almost before she hears it, and it pulls her breath in slowly. It's foreboding in a way she fears. That he's going to tell her he can't stay, that he's afraid of what will happen if he stays, or that he's not even concerned that way at all. She's not even sure which would be worse, but the movement she was afraid to make now almost feels necessary. That if she doesn't press closer now she'll be hollow when he leaves her.
Rose only allows her mouth to move though, and not even closer to his neck where the curve of it meets his shoulder, despite covered by the collar of his shirt. She pulls away from him, letting her forehead rest to his shoulder as she stares down at the shadowed darkness that she's created with her chest pressed to him. "Yeah," she breathes out trying not to make it sound like she's afraid of the words, or upset at what might come. It's an attempt at casual despite how their interlocked still.
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She spoke, and he was instantly comforted. Her breath, her presence, her being alive and there and Rose all at the same time. Silly, really. No one else in the universe felt like Rose did, or smelled like they had nutella in their hair. No Sontaran clone or Tara android could duplicate her. Still, the voice that was undeniably Rose comforted.
He shifted his head to press a kiss to her hair. Gentle and simple, affection without pressing down those barriers he feared. But what would it hurt, he wondered. What would one more barrier really mean to them? In many ways it felt unfair that the only kisses he'd shared with her were borne out of a terrible situation or connecting. Couldn't they just...kiss?
No. His mind was rather loud on this topic. Self-preservation was too important. He couldn't take Rose as his lover, that would hurt too much in the few short decades that she had left. Then she would be gone and he would have a hole left in her absence.
But really, she already took up a place in his hearts. He already loved her, already (if only mentally) admitted it. When she died or left he would still be pretty much just around completely lost. He would probably lock himself in the TARDIS for a long while. Jettison her room if the TARDIS wasn't kind enough to make it disappear within herself. Or---
He snapped himself out of that line of thought. Too much of him went into other times. The past, the future. He never really had a chance for now. There wasn't enough time for now. Not enough time to explain things, to study things. He'd traveled with Rose for how long now and he'd only just discovered what it felt like to hold her.
To her reply, he smiled. "I'm so glad I met you."
It was the equivalent, in his mind, to the 'I love you' he really couldn't say.
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