doctor who fic: of fairy tales and fantasy
Title: of fairy tales and fantasy
Author: marcasite/gabesaunt
Character/Paring: ten/rose
Prompt: then_theres_us ch. 01 "summer" / fanfic100: Sound
Word Count: 620
Rating: pg
Deep inside, she knows that he will never be the type that will bring her flowers or coax her with wine as an expression of his feelings. He has no regard for all of the trappings deemed by society as appropriate, and this could be seen as a challenge to the years after the war, he spent alone. She acknowledges that he does try his best to win her affection, surprising her with trips to exotic planets and beautiful vistas; excited to show her everything he knows. She wants to tell him that he already has her affection, but like him, can’t quite put that into the right words.
But what she loves the most from him, is his gift to her of words, words for her alone. They come naturally to him; he bends them to his will, uses them to captive and entice. His power over words fills him with confidence that can be perceived as arrogance, a pride that’s perceived as being aloof.
And it excites her.
When they are alone, when it is just him and her, he fabricates tales of an era that is magical, fantastic and mysterious; tales that are full of bravery and love and hope. He spins sonnets full of poetry and prose, designed to both charm and fascinate her with its wit and hidden meanings. With every word that he speaks, she feels herself falling more and more under his spell until all she can hear is the sound of his voice and feel the vibration of his stories as he speaks to her. His words are like a drug that she grows addicted to, listening to them as they are whispered along her skin, in her hair, around her soul. His stories are smeared along her neck, between her breasts and she swears they will remain forever tattooed there along with the feeling his hands leave in their wake.
She now knows that she will never be able to give this up.
In his words; there in his tone as he speaks to her, hidden beneath all of his manic energy and exuberance and quiet brilliance, is where he layers in his love for her. She can hear the love with every verse and knows that what he feels for her is a love so deep it threatens to burn them both; bringing the ashes down with them. He is sharing with her in the only way he really knows how; with words and erotic motions. So when the words threaten to spill over; she kisses him, capturing them all and holding tightly onto him. In her kiss, she pours back his poetry, his sonnets and all his magical tales wanting him to know that she understands, so much, how he loves her. She gives him his words back, knowing that he will share them with her again and again.
So it’s in the quiet days like this, days that are filled with nothing but them, that she understands why it’s so hard for him. She savors these days, the rare moments that he surprises her with, like this side trip to a planet full of nothing but sun, sand, and water. She lets the warmth of the sun fill her as they walk along this deserted beach; no danger ahead and no adventure behind. She basks in the heat of his words and laces her fingers with his; memorizing every crease and bend of his fingers with her own. There will never be flowers or candy, but he’ll capture her eyes across the Tardis console and sends her heart racing with just a look.
She waits for the words that he shares with her and her alone and it’s enough.
.end
Author: marcasite/gabesaunt
Character/Paring: ten/rose
Prompt: then_theres_us ch. 01 "summer" / fanfic100: Sound
Word Count: 620
Rating: pg
Deep inside, she knows that he will never be the type that will bring her flowers or coax her with wine as an expression of his feelings. He has no regard for all of the trappings deemed by society as appropriate, and this could be seen as a challenge to the years after the war, he spent alone. She acknowledges that he does try his best to win her affection, surprising her with trips to exotic planets and beautiful vistas; excited to show her everything he knows. She wants to tell him that he already has her affection, but like him, can’t quite put that into the right words.
But what she loves the most from him, is his gift to her of words, words for her alone. They come naturally to him; he bends them to his will, uses them to captive and entice. His power over words fills him with confidence that can be perceived as arrogance, a pride that’s perceived as being aloof.
And it excites her.
When they are alone, when it is just him and her, he fabricates tales of an era that is magical, fantastic and mysterious; tales that are full of bravery and love and hope. He spins sonnets full of poetry and prose, designed to both charm and fascinate her with its wit and hidden meanings. With every word that he speaks, she feels herself falling more and more under his spell until all she can hear is the sound of his voice and feel the vibration of his stories as he speaks to her. His words are like a drug that she grows addicted to, listening to them as they are whispered along her skin, in her hair, around her soul. His stories are smeared along her neck, between her breasts and she swears they will remain forever tattooed there along with the feeling his hands leave in their wake.
She now knows that she will never be able to give this up.
In his words; there in his tone as he speaks to her, hidden beneath all of his manic energy and exuberance and quiet brilliance, is where he layers in his love for her. She can hear the love with every verse and knows that what he feels for her is a love so deep it threatens to burn them both; bringing the ashes down with them. He is sharing with her in the only way he really knows how; with words and erotic motions. So when the words threaten to spill over; she kisses him, capturing them all and holding tightly onto him. In her kiss, she pours back his poetry, his sonnets and all his magical tales wanting him to know that she understands, so much, how he loves her. She gives him his words back, knowing that he will share them with her again and again.
So it’s in the quiet days like this, days that are filled with nothing but them, that she understands why it’s so hard for him. She savors these days, the rare moments that he surprises her with, like this side trip to a planet full of nothing but sun, sand, and water. She lets the warmth of the sun fill her as they walk along this deserted beach; no danger ahead and no adventure behind. She basks in the heat of his words and laces her fingers with his; memorizing every crease and bend of his fingers with her own. There will never be flowers or candy, but he’ll capture her eyes across the Tardis console and sends her heart racing with just a look.
She waits for the words that he shares with her and her alone and it’s enough.
.end