RP: Untitled; for metacrisised

[alwaysbrilliant]

Her day, like the entire week leading up to it, had been a hectic one, and Donna was exhausted. She popped by her mum's to pick up a few things she'd left behind, and by the time she arrived home to the new flat, she was ready to keel over. "Doctor?" she called wearily, tossing her bag onto the catchall table inside the door and dropping the box of

Comments

[metacrisised]

The Doctor's walk home has been miserable - dark and wet and rainy - and he's feeling damp and irritable by the end of it. He sloshes his way into their flat, tossing his sodden coat aside and running a hand through his hair. The cats scamper over to him, mewling at his ankles, and he gives them a tired smile, bending down to scratch behind their ears. "Hullo there," he greets them. "Bet you two had a nice day, lolling about the entire time, doing nothing but napping. Wish I could've been a bloody cat-Time Lord metacrisis."

[alwaysbrilliant]

She hears him in the entry and lifts her head, blinking her tired eyes. "'m in here," she calls pointlessly. Their flat is all of five tiny rooms - it's never too hard to find anyone in such close quarters. Her stomach rumbles and she frowns - she hasn't even begun to think about feeding them yet.

[metacrisised]

He slumps down on the couch next to her, rubbing his temples and hunching over. "How was your day?" he asks wearily, picking up the kitten and setting her on his lap.

[alwaysbrilliant]

She gives some sort of whimper in response and toes her shoes off. "It's over, at least. Yours?" She looks at him sidelong. "Aside from damp, that is?"