[fic] effervescence
Title: effervescence
Characters/Pairings: Rose/10, Rose/11 - mention of Amy.
Rating: PG
Timeline: All over the place - this just a quick compilation of drabbles and drabblings.
Spoilers: No specific spoilers, but general knowledge up to series five would be smashing.
Word count: Varied.
part one || part two || part three || part four || part five
one .
His pain, so raw and hot, is smoldering in him when even the basest of things, when even words were denied him and he knew then that time lords could waste time, because he had wasted his. He has forever, but she doesn't, and that has been the thorn between them all along.
Oh how he cried, cried for the girl with sunshine in her smile and sunshine in her voice. How he cried for the man who was left in the dark, a tear for every word that neither of them would ever hear.two .
He has finally shaken most of his old habits - no urges to lick mysterious substances or taste odd looking green gloop. He dislikes apples and has only a passing fondness for bananas. There are no suits and no leather jackets, no freckles or rumbling vocal chords. This new form is new and young - younger than he has been in a long time, and both his hearts whisper the reason why; she makes him young - she shapes his face during each regeneration, the shadow of her warmth and her light filtering through him; he grows younger and younger and each time with a face more and more suited for smiling. The new teeth are a bit strange and the combination of fish and custard is so absolutely fantastic that he is not sure why he has never loved it before.
But Rose is more than a habit. A flower girl on cobbled streets and a wicker basket - a child's rehearsed and repeated "Would you like a rose, sir?" and his mind is swimming. The cheerful grin he beams for the world is as fake as his calm when he says, quite winningly, "Why yes, I would love a rose," (his breath does not even catch on her name) and his hand trembles the slightest bit when he takes the lush pink blossom from her.
She is everywhere around him and Amy - well, Amy is great, but Amy is Amy and definitely not Rose. She is magnificent and bold and Amy, which is good if only because he does not think he can withstand another Rose. His hearts thump achingly in agreement and he wonders why this young body feels so old.
Characters/Pairings: Rose/10, Rose/11 - mention of Amy.
Rating: PG
Timeline: All over the place - this just a quick compilation of drabbles and drabblings.
Spoilers: No specific spoilers, but general knowledge up to series five would be smashing.
Word count: Varied.
part one || part two || part three || part four || part five
one .
His pain, so raw and hot, is smoldering in him when even the basest of things, when even words were denied him and he knew then that time lords could waste time, because he had wasted his. He has forever, but she doesn't, and that has been the thorn between them all along.
Oh how he cried, cried for the girl with sunshine in her smile and sunshine in her voice. How he cried for the man who was left in the dark, a tear for every word that neither of them would ever hear.two .
He has finally shaken most of his old habits - no urges to lick mysterious substances or taste odd looking green gloop. He dislikes apples and has only a passing fondness for bananas. There are no suits and no leather jackets, no freckles or rumbling vocal chords. This new form is new and young - younger than he has been in a long time, and both his hearts whisper the reason why; she makes him young - she shapes his face during each regeneration, the shadow of her warmth and her light filtering through him; he grows younger and younger and each time with a face more and more suited for smiling. The new teeth are a bit strange and the combination of fish and custard is so absolutely fantastic that he is not sure why he has never loved it before.
But Rose is more than a habit. A flower girl on cobbled streets and a wicker basket - a child's rehearsed and repeated "Would you like a rose, sir?" and his mind is swimming. The cheerful grin he beams for the world is as fake as his calm when he says, quite winningly, "Why yes, I would love a rose," (his breath does not even catch on her name) and his hand trembles the slightest bit when he takes the lush pink blossom from her.
She is everywhere around him and Amy - well, Amy is great, but Amy is Amy and definitely not Rose. She is magnificent and bold and Amy, which is good if only because he does not think he can withstand another Rose. His hearts thump achingly in agreement and he wonders why this young body feels so old.