a/n: just a drabble on an idea i had, isn’t really thought through
he's early, you think as you open your front door to let joshua in. one look at him and it's obvious why he's here earlier than you expected - he skipped on changing his clothes and taking off his makeup after a photoshoot (though you're not sure how he got away with it, his stylists keep excellent track of outfits). he's smirking, almost glowing at how proud he feels, and it's enough to make you giggle.
"what?", he asks. "nothing, you're just cute", you reply. almost whining - a stark contrast from his expression a minute ago - he says, "i'm supposed to look handsome, cool, dashing, hot. not cute".
"mmm", you say, "well you do look all of those things too, but it's not your best look".
"oh really? then what's my best look?"
"your best look", you say with a smile, "is how you look when you watch netflix with me in bed".
"what, barefaced and in my threadbare pajamas?"
"yeah", you reply decisively, "when you're dressed up like you are right now, you look like a statue - something to be watched and admired, but not touched. when you're next to me, snorting at a bad joke and stuffing your face with chips, you look like you belong on earth. among people."
you look like you belong with me, you want to say.
you don't say it, since this is new and you're not sure if it's okay to say that yet. but from the soft look on joshua's face and his reddening cheeks as he gives you a fond smile, you know he heard it.
It looked like one of those quirky puzzle objects that clever, brainy people kept on their desks or their coffee tables.
And given that description of it, Rose supposed it wasn’t that much of a shock that such an object existed on the TARDIS. It was just that on balance, the box before her looked rather… ordinary.
It was a box that really could’ve been a prop to one of the best steampunk costumes she’d ever seen. It was expertly crafted, with silver metal reinforcements on each corner, and exquisitely decorated on every face. Despite the clean, sharp angles of the overall cubic shape, the patterns that covered the surface were all swirling circular embellishments, ones that Rose had seen displayed across the TARDIS viewscreen at times, or on the spines of some of the books in the library. The Doctor’s native language, then. She’d always wondered if the TARDIS couldn’t translate it due to complexity or whether she simply chose to afford the Doctor the privacy that he so clearly needed to fall back on whenever things got to be too much.
Each side was adorned differently. One was divided into a four by four grid, with the beautiful, looping language splayed chaotically across the background irrespective of the lines slicing through it. One side had gears that looked just like any gears she would’ve imagined back on Earth, and yet another had gears that looked just like the symbols that comprised the Doctor’s language. The whole thing rather reminded Rose of the inside of a clock, or the surface of a circuit board, or a spider’s web.
She wasn’t sure what it was, honestly, and she made a mental note to herself to ask the Doctor later, but for now, she was on the hunt for a very particular book or three, and the box was in the way.
The moment she reached out and touched it, the rest of the world fell away. (x)
(“Accidentally Read The Other’s Diary” for @doctorrosebingo)