RP: Untitled; for metacrisised

[alwaysbrilliant]

Donna window shops on her way back to the Mercure, but even the sales can't tempt her; she's feeling worn out despite the strong, bitter coffee and wishing she had time for a nap before dinner. It's a relief when the doorman opens the door to the hotel for her and she sags against the wall of the lift. She chalks the exhaustion up to her collapse

Comments

[metacrisised]

The Doctor's asleep - or maybe unconscious. His jacket's been tossed across the room, and the first few buttons of his shirt are undone. He looks even worse than he did earlier, if that's even possible, and his skin is pale and sweaty.

[alwaysbrilliant]

Donna frowns - he's even worse than she expected. She sinks down onto the bed beside him and lays her hand on his forehead before she can even worry about the complications she thought would arise from physical contact. He's burning up, just as she knew he would be. "Doctor?" she says softly. When Donna gets no response, she tries a bit louder. "Doctor, wake up!"

[metacrisised]

His eyes flutter open. "Donna," he says weakly, smiling at her as best he can. "I don't think taking a nap helped much." Though, he knows, it has less to do with that and more to do with the near-cascade earlier.

[alwaysbrilliant]

She can't help it - he looks so sad and so... so like a child when he wakes, she cups his cheek, her heart leaping into her throat. "No, it didn't." She clears her throat and adds, "I'm sorry." She smiles a little and pulls her hand away. "What can I get you? Something to drink, maybe?"