lullabies of the manic (Eleven/Rose, PG)

[withkissesfour]

Pairing: Eleven/Rose
Rating: PG
Length: 690 words
Disclaimer: Not mine. Alas.
Prompt:

"Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all."
-Emily Dickinson

Originally prompted for the Doctor/Rose fixathon.

Comments

[mylittlepwny]

The hope never went away. The possibility. (Oh. One turn. One press. One push. One button to her. Maybe two.) And sometimes it scared him. Reminded him of those days after she left. Stinging eyes and old clothes and daydreaming reunions. The old remnants of apprehensive excitement. The old illusions. That he could press a button. And there she'd be. And she'd fix his bow tie. And he'd kiss her. And he still didn't quite know what to do with this body of his, but he knew that their fingers would fit together. And he'd slide his hands, far too big, far too...handy, down the curve of her waist. And she'd play with his hair and tell him it was far too floppy. (You could. You could still have her.)

THIS FIC. THIS BIT. THIS.

I mean, just the simple repetition of that sentence, you could still have her, fucking hits me where it hurts the best and leaves me speechless. This is poetry in motion. The Doctor loving Rose so much it sings to him, still, still still still, always always always and OH, I JUST LOVE IT. And god when he imagines what she'd do, what she'd say, how of course she wouldn't mind him not being tall and her missing the coral but not really caring anything's changed because the only thing that means anything is the same and her so OH GOD HER SO THAT CONTINUES TO KILL ME TO THIS DAY IT'S LIKE YOU ARE TRYING TO BREAK ME HERE.