Their thoughts run astray, apart from each other briefly. This moment could be improved upon, in his mind, by grander things far beyond any shortcomings she may perceive in herself. Had he the ability and resources, they would be together in his TARDIS, journeying across the universe, dancing through the stars, watching a galaxy spark to life. He wants to show her the big, beautiful things she can't possibly fathom, and the small things even he forgets to pay attention to. Because she is worth all of that, and far more than he could ever hope to say aloud. Maybe one day he'll try.
That twitch in her hand, slight and almost imperceptible though it is, cannot be missed. He's too aware of her now, she's too close, and so the slight movement only compels his hand to tighten. She belongs here; here, with him, and he would be very against the notion if she tried to move.
"Lamentable disposition? Shroud?" He repeats her words back, something disagreeable in his tone. "No, no, no, you've got it all wrong. Lamentable - lamentable for whom exactly? Not for my sake. For yours, yes, but that's only because I like your smile. Very much, actually. Bit greedy for it, if we're being honest. I know there hasn't been reason enough for it lately, but we'll get there. It's what I meant by improving the moment. If I had my way - we'd be having that dance by now, at the very least," he smiles a little, in spite of anything. He doesn't know if it's real or not, but it's real enough for her sake.
"And your shroud, well, look at me." He speaks softly, though a bit insistent. "I mean it, really. Look at me. Would I rather be anywhere else? So we're beneath your shroud, so what? Both of us huddled under there together, keeping out the rain. Not so bad at the moment. We'll just shrug it off when we're ready to come up for air. And cake," he grins a little, stroking his thumb across her cheek.
no subject
That twitch in her hand, slight and almost imperceptible though it is, cannot be missed. He's too aware of her now, she's too close, and so the slight movement only compels his hand to tighten. She belongs here; here, with him, and he would be very against the notion if she tried to move.
"Lamentable disposition? Shroud?" He repeats her words back, something disagreeable in his tone. "No, no, no, you've got it all wrong. Lamentable - lamentable for whom exactly? Not for my sake. For yours, yes, but that's only because I like your smile. Very much, actually. Bit greedy for it, if we're being honest. I know there hasn't been reason enough for it lately, but we'll get there. It's what I meant by improving the moment. If I had my way - we'd be having that dance by now, at the very least," he smiles a little, in spite of anything. He doesn't know if it's real or not, but it's real enough for her sake.
"And your shroud, well, look at me." He speaks softly, though a bit insistent. "I mean it, really. Look at me. Would I rather be anywhere else? So we're beneath your shroud, so what? Both of us huddled under there together, keeping out the rain. Not so bad at the moment. We'll just shrug it off when we're ready to come up for air. And cake," he grins a little, stroking his thumb across her cheek.