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12. LOVE DOESN’T ALWAYS FEEL LIKE THIS
“That wasn’t quite what I was expecting,” River comments mildly, pushing her feet back into her shoes, “But I liked it.”
“Well River, I’m trying to keep you happy.” She smiles wickedly.
“Glad to hear it.”
Since the night in the Lissian Galaxy Amy’s stopped having nightmares, but she still insists that she can’t get to sleep without Rory stroking her hair.
“I don’t mind Amy, I’m happy to stroke your hair, but are you sure it’s what you want?” He asks her one evening as they’re getting ready for bed, grabbing the chance of a normal night’s sleep for once.
“I wouldn’t ask you to if it wasn’t.” She says simply, pulling the tank top she sleeps in over her head. “Now come and cuddle me.”
Rory clambers into bed beside her, opens his arms for her to snuggle into. Her head rests under his chin and they spoon together.
“ ’night.” She murmurs, already yawning.
“Goodnight.”
Amy falls asleep within minutes, soothed by Rory’s gentle caress in her hair. But Rory feels the steady warmth of her beneath his chest, breathes in the faint mint-y toothpaste smell of her and knows that he won’t be able to get to sleep for a while. And that’s alright. He likes this time of day, when they are in their own little bubble of domesticity and he can forget for a few hours that they’re inside a spaceship and there’s an alien tinkering with an electric toothbrush a few rooms away.
With light fingers he touches Amy’s shoulder; trails his hand down the line of her arm until his palm slides past her wrist.
“I love you.” He whispers, kissing the faintly musky-scented hollow behind her ear.
The tickle of his breath stirs her and she makes a little moue. Rory gently lifts her hand to his face and presses his lips to the pulse point which quivers in her wrist. Amy makes a little contented noise and her head turns so that she can smile sleepily at him.
“Love you too.” Her words are sleep-slurred and he can see her already sinking back into sleep. Pulling her close so that she lies flush against him, Rory can feel her heart beating in time with his.
As he waits for sleep to come, he lets his mind wander absently. He thinks about the day they met. They were just children then, and he smiles at the thought that he met the woman he was going to marry when he was seven.
Not everyone has this, he thinks. Even if you ignore the fact we both died before we got to be together, we’re still unusual.
He ponders that for a minute. They both died. It’s such an immense and scary thought he can’t look at it for too long, but the fact is it’s true. Even if it did happen in some alternate universe. Or did it?
Rory still doesn’t think he’s worked out exactly what happened with time when the Doctor flew the Pandorica into the TARDIS and got Amy to bring him back with the recollection of a memory of a dream. But it doesn’t matter. The point is that now, in the present, real world, they’re both very much alive. Alive and happy and so, so in love.
Sleep is beginning to tug at the corners of his eyes and Rory yawns, trying not to disturb Amy too much.
This is special, is his last thought before he drifts off, love doesn’t always feel like this.
Part Thirteen - In The End They Died
“That wasn’t quite what I was expecting,” River comments mildly, pushing her feet back into her shoes, “But I liked it.”
“Well River, I’m trying to keep you happy.” She smiles wickedly.
“Glad to hear it.”
Since the night in the Lissian Galaxy Amy’s stopped having nightmares, but she still insists that she can’t get to sleep without Rory stroking her hair.
“I don’t mind Amy, I’m happy to stroke your hair, but are you sure it’s what you want?” He asks her one evening as they’re getting ready for bed, grabbing the chance of a normal night’s sleep for once.
“I wouldn’t ask you to if it wasn’t.” She says simply, pulling the tank top she sleeps in over her head. “Now come and cuddle me.”
Rory clambers into bed beside her, opens his arms for her to snuggle into. Her head rests under his chin and they spoon together.
“ ’night.” She murmurs, already yawning.
“Goodnight.”
Amy falls asleep within minutes, soothed by Rory’s gentle caress in her hair. But Rory feels the steady warmth of her beneath his chest, breathes in the faint mint-y toothpaste smell of her and knows that he won’t be able to get to sleep for a while. And that’s alright. He likes this time of day, when they are in their own little bubble of domesticity and he can forget for a few hours that they’re inside a spaceship and there’s an alien tinkering with an electric toothbrush a few rooms away.
With light fingers he touches Amy’s shoulder; trails his hand down the line of her arm until his palm slides past her wrist.
“I love you.” He whispers, kissing the faintly musky-scented hollow behind her ear.
The tickle of his breath stirs her and she makes a little moue. Rory gently lifts her hand to his face and presses his lips to the pulse point which quivers in her wrist. Amy makes a little contented noise and her head turns so that she can smile sleepily at him.
“Love you too.” Her words are sleep-slurred and he can see her already sinking back into sleep. Pulling her close so that she lies flush against him, Rory can feel her heart beating in time with his.
As he waits for sleep to come, he lets his mind wander absently. He thinks about the day they met. They were just children then, and he smiles at the thought that he met the woman he was going to marry when he was seven.
Not everyone has this, he thinks. Even if you ignore the fact we both died before we got to be together, we’re still unusual.
He ponders that for a minute. They both died. It’s such an immense and scary thought he can’t look at it for too long, but the fact is it’s true. Even if it did happen in some alternate universe. Or did it?
Rory still doesn’t think he’s worked out exactly what happened with time when the Doctor flew the Pandorica into the TARDIS and got Amy to bring him back with the recollection of a memory of a dream. But it doesn’t matter. The point is that now, in the present, real world, they’re both very much alive. Alive and happy and so, so in love.
Sleep is beginning to tug at the corners of his eyes and Rory yawns, trying not to disturb Amy too much.
This is special, is his last thought before he drifts off, love doesn’t always feel like this.
Part Thirteen - In The End They Died