for on_thecouch Sight
[Sight]
She doesn’t see things through these eyes quite the same. She would say that they are inferior and yet sometimes they are not. In the mornings when his hair is sticking up just so and his jim-jams are rumpled, these eyes see him in a way that the superior ones have never. Sensing his emotions is not new to her but seeing his emotions as they journey across his eyes, flickering on his face for only brief moments, is an entirely new experience.
It is one that makes her consider that perhaps her original form is slightly defective.
Of course that is a notion she dismisses as quickly as it comes. This is the defective form and by way of enforcing that she stares at him while he sleeps. At first he doesn’t appear to notice but then she is very careful sneaking across the bed on hands and knees.
It is only when she hovers centimeters from his face, her nose nearly brushing his skin, breath held until she thinks her chest is going to burst open or erupt into flame…it is the violent exhale of her breath against his skin that makes him wake up with a start so violent he flails and she screams, windmilling backwards until both of them hit the floor on opposite sides of the bed. She is the first to poke her head up over the side so that she can see him.
“You have tiny holes in your skin,” she declares.
“Well, yes. You see both Time Lords and humans have a similar secretion system. It acts as a cooling system as well as a means of cleansing the body of toxins,” he starts to explain.
“I had assume these eyes were defective,” she tells him as she crawls over the bed then slides down his side to fold herself up on the floor next to him.
A slow smile spreads over his face but she can see it is only to mask the guilt he feels. Her brow furrows and she places her hand on his face, bridged over his nose, fingertips on his cheeks. “Don’t do that.”
His eyebrows arch up comically and he doesn’t have to ask the question at all.
“It is not your fault I am broken. You will fix me. I know that.” She slides her hand down his face then lets it fall by her leg as she tilts her head to the side. “In the meantime, more information must be catalogued on the subject so that I can appropriately make comparisons once I am myself again.”
The smile that he gives her now is genuine and he bounces up on the balls of his feet. “An adventure then. Where shall we go today?” He is already running toward the control room, jim-jams flapping in his wake.
“Surprise me.”
And he always does.
She doesn’t see things through these eyes quite the same. She would say that they are inferior and yet sometimes they are not. In the mornings when his hair is sticking up just so and his jim-jams are rumpled, these eyes see him in a way that the superior ones have never. Sensing his emotions is not new to her but seeing his emotions as they journey across his eyes, flickering on his face for only brief moments, is an entirely new experience.
It is one that makes her consider that perhaps her original form is slightly defective.
Of course that is a notion she dismisses as quickly as it comes. This is the defective form and by way of enforcing that she stares at him while he sleeps. At first he doesn’t appear to notice but then she is very careful sneaking across the bed on hands and knees.
It is only when she hovers centimeters from his face, her nose nearly brushing his skin, breath held until she thinks her chest is going to burst open or erupt into flame…it is the violent exhale of her breath against his skin that makes him wake up with a start so violent he flails and she screams, windmilling backwards until both of them hit the floor on opposite sides of the bed. She is the first to poke her head up over the side so that she can see him.
“You have tiny holes in your skin,” she declares.
“Well, yes. You see both Time Lords and humans have a similar secretion system. It acts as a cooling system as well as a means of cleansing the body of toxins,” he starts to explain.
“I had assume these eyes were defective,” she tells him as she crawls over the bed then slides down his side to fold herself up on the floor next to him.
A slow smile spreads over his face but she can see it is only to mask the guilt he feels. Her brow furrows and she places her hand on his face, bridged over his nose, fingertips on his cheeks. “Don’t do that.”
His eyebrows arch up comically and he doesn’t have to ask the question at all.
“It is not your fault I am broken. You will fix me. I know that.” She slides her hand down his face then lets it fall by her leg as she tilts her head to the side. “In the meantime, more information must be catalogued on the subject so that I can appropriately make comparisons once I am myself again.”
The smile that he gives her now is genuine and he bounces up on the balls of his feet. “An adventure then. Where shall we go today?” He is already running toward the control room, jim-jams flapping in his wake.
“Surprise me.”
And he always does.