Roofs and other rooves {10/R, G}
...Okay, so this is kind of a non-story. I've been absent for ages and I'm just going to label this as...well, I don't know. Oh god. I used to write posts? Me? What did I ever write about? Hmph.
(another Then There's Us challenge) (I've completely forgotten how to use lj too, apparently)
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Rose hums to herself, and pads around the bags on the floor. She steps over to the window and struggles with the latch, bracing her legs against the windowsill. It suddenly unsticks, and she lurches forward into the air, clutching desperately at the curtain. The room is warm and close; she's glad of the inrush of evening air.
She leans on the frame with folded arms and looks out over the rooftops. From behind her, she can hear the Doctor whistling in the bathroom as he brushes his teeth. He splutters occasionally, when the foam goes the wrong way and she giggles to herself and checks the time on her phone. Rose yawns, watching a guy in the opposite flat feed his cat. He doesn't notice her, and she glances down at herself briefly.
She should probably change. They're going Out for the evening ('Music! Maybe even dancing,' the Doctor had said, waggling his eyebrows like a couple of mating caterpillars) and there's a short black sequinned thing flung over one of the twin beds in the room in readiness. There're heels lying lopsidedly on the floor by the bed, but if there really is going to be dancing she thinks she'd be better off in flats...She should get ready. She should get ready, but she doesn't.
She should get ready, because she'd actually really kind of like to get to hear some live music - good live music, that she might have heard of, created by people reasonably within what she likes to think of as her Earth time-frame, music that is immediately identifiable as music, not vague noises she has to really work at enjoying.
She sneezes (and wonders if she's getting a bit staid) and turns away from the window as the Doctor emerges from the bathroom stinking of menthol, hair newly perky. She gives him a sloppy one-armed hug, grabbing her dress with the other. 'Two minutes!' she grins as she swerves past.
(another Then There's Us challenge) (I've completely forgotten how to use lj too, apparently)
~*~
~*~
Rose hums to herself, and pads around the bags on the floor. She steps over to the window and struggles with the latch, bracing her legs against the windowsill. It suddenly unsticks, and she lurches forward into the air, clutching desperately at the curtain. The room is warm and close; she's glad of the inrush of evening air.
She leans on the frame with folded arms and looks out over the rooftops. From behind her, she can hear the Doctor whistling in the bathroom as he brushes his teeth. He splutters occasionally, when the foam goes the wrong way and she giggles to herself and checks the time on her phone. Rose yawns, watching a guy in the opposite flat feed his cat. He doesn't notice her, and she glances down at herself briefly.
She should probably change. They're going Out for the evening ('Music! Maybe even dancing,' the Doctor had said, waggling his eyebrows like a couple of mating caterpillars) and there's a short black sequinned thing flung over one of the twin beds in the room in readiness. There're heels lying lopsidedly on the floor by the bed, but if there really is going to be dancing she thinks she'd be better off in flats...She should get ready. She should get ready, but she doesn't.
She should get ready, because she'd actually really kind of like to get to hear some live music - good live music, that she might have heard of, created by people reasonably within what she likes to think of as her Earth time-frame, music that is immediately identifiable as music, not vague noises she has to really work at enjoying.
She sneezes (and wonders if she's getting a bit staid) and turns away from the window as the Doctor emerges from the bathroom stinking of menthol, hair newly perky. She gives him a sloppy one-armed hug, grabbing her dress with the other. 'Two minutes!' she grins as she swerves past.