for muses_inthesack for ambitious_woman: 49 tag challenge
Reward is in the risk.
Follows this rp and this ficlet.
The Doctor did not want to go to a party. He was beginning to despise parties, especially ones where he had to get dressed up and pretend he was enjoying himself. Parties where he was expected to be somebody. Private soirees were all right once in a while, but that's all they were held; once in a while. The big parties seemed too happen once every few weeks, if not more often.
Tonight, it was a garden party. Louis and Marie were throwing it in their gardens and everyone who was anyone was invited. The Doctor imagined his name was merely attached to Reinette (which was all right by him).
Except, Reinette had left much earlier in the day to spend time with her once-lover, while the Doctor stayed in his room, staring at the ceiling and thinking of the night before. What had that meant, her standing there in her room and looking at him? Was he thinking too much into it? What about when she told him he could've asked her rather than had that night with the girl at the ball?
He eventually got up, dressed, and tugged his hair into a short ponytail at the nape of his neck with an elaborate clasp. The carriage ride was both uneventful and, without Reinette's conversation, uninteresting. He wanted to ask her about what happened. He wanted to know if things had changed.
No, no, he wasn't completely idiotic. He knew something had changed. Something was changing. He just didn't know exactly what.
He took a cup of chilled wine and wandered the garden. The September air was crisp and the leaves were changing color, but most of the flowers still held bloom. It wasn't a terrible place to hold a party. If only it wasn't so frightfully pretentious.
Follows this rp and this ficlet.
The Doctor did not want to go to a party. He was beginning to despise parties, especially ones where he had to get dressed up and pretend he was enjoying himself. Parties where he was expected to be somebody. Private soirees were all right once in a while, but that's all they were held; once in a while. The big parties seemed too happen once every few weeks, if not more often.
Tonight, it was a garden party. Louis and Marie were throwing it in their gardens and everyone who was anyone was invited. The Doctor imagined his name was merely attached to Reinette (which was all right by him).
Except, Reinette had left much earlier in the day to spend time with her once-lover, while the Doctor stayed in his room, staring at the ceiling and thinking of the night before. What had that meant, her standing there in her room and looking at him? Was he thinking too much into it? What about when she told him he could've asked her rather than had that night with the girl at the ball?
He eventually got up, dressed, and tugged his hair into a short ponytail at the nape of his neck with an elaborate clasp. The carriage ride was both uneventful and, without Reinette's conversation, uninteresting. He wanted to ask her about what happened. He wanted to know if things had changed.
No, no, he wasn't completely idiotic. He knew something had changed. Something was changing. He just didn't know exactly what.
He took a cup of chilled wine and wandered the garden. The September air was crisp and the leaves were changing color, but most of the flowers still held bloom. It wasn't a terrible place to hold a party. If only it wasn't so frightfully pretentious.