Drabble Series: Little Moments - Good Morning
Title: Good Morning
Author: WhosInTheAttic
Pairing: TenToo/Rose
Rating: T
Words: 464
Rose awakes to the dim morning light sifting in through the blinds. She can tell by the smell of the air coming in through the cracked window that it's been raining, and she can hear birds in the tree in the back garden. She's a bit thankful for the dreary weather; sometimes their bedroom can be too bright, and it almost feels like waking up beneath an Inspector's flood-lamp. It's mornings like this that she absolutely loves; not just because she's slept in today, and feels well-rested, but because two years ago, she would've never thought it possible.
She can feel the Doctor's arm tucked under her pillow; his other is curled around her torso and cupping her breast, holding her closer to him. The skin of his chest and stomach is hot against hers, his chest hair tickling at her back and making her itch, but she's so content she doesn't want to move. She wonder if his arm under her pillow has gone to sleep. They're fitted together curve for curve, despite their height difference, and Rose's feet are pressed to the tops of his feet, and now that she's awake she has a need to move. She curls her toes just a little bit and strokes the tops of his feet, letting his hairs tickle her. He lets out a sleepy growl, and the arm around her flexes gently, and his leg shifts over hers. His face nestles into her ear, and the regular intervals of breath from his nose tickle the fine wisps along her hairline. Her shoulders tense at the sensation, and she suppresses a grin. She puts a hand over the hand situated on her breast and traces a path along the valleys between his knuckles and through the hair on the backs of his manly hands to the little knobby bone at his wrist, and then back again. She feels him smile against the place where her neck and shoulder join, and he plants a kiss there.
"Good mornin'," Rose whispers, and it seems almost too loud, and she worries she's spoiled the moment.
"Good morning," he replies, his voice still gravelly with sleep. He clears his throat, "Sleep well?"
"Yeah," she says, and stills her hand on his.
The Doctor plants a kiss on her shoulder, "Me too." He shifts, reluctantly disentangling himself from her to stretch his disused muscles. "What do you want for breakfast?" he asks through a slight yawn.
Rose rolls over and curls into his side, bringing a leg slightly over his, and running the fingertips of one hand through the hair on his chest. She gives him a mischievous smile, and her fingers drift lower across the expanse of his flat stomach, she looks him in the eye and says, "You."
Author: WhosInTheAttic
Pairing: TenToo/Rose
Rating: T
Words: 464
Rose awakes to the dim morning light sifting in through the blinds. She can tell by the smell of the air coming in through the cracked window that it's been raining, and she can hear birds in the tree in the back garden. She's a bit thankful for the dreary weather; sometimes their bedroom can be too bright, and it almost feels like waking up beneath an Inspector's flood-lamp. It's mornings like this that she absolutely loves; not just because she's slept in today, and feels well-rested, but because two years ago, she would've never thought it possible.
She can feel the Doctor's arm tucked under her pillow; his other is curled around her torso and cupping her breast, holding her closer to him. The skin of his chest and stomach is hot against hers, his chest hair tickling at her back and making her itch, but she's so content she doesn't want to move. She wonder if his arm under her pillow has gone to sleep. They're fitted together curve for curve, despite their height difference, and Rose's feet are pressed to the tops of his feet, and now that she's awake she has a need to move. She curls her toes just a little bit and strokes the tops of his feet, letting his hairs tickle her. He lets out a sleepy growl, and the arm around her flexes gently, and his leg shifts over hers. His face nestles into her ear, and the regular intervals of breath from his nose tickle the fine wisps along her hairline. Her shoulders tense at the sensation, and she suppresses a grin. She puts a hand over the hand situated on her breast and traces a path along the valleys between his knuckles and through the hair on the backs of his manly hands to the little knobby bone at his wrist, and then back again. She feels him smile against the place where her neck and shoulder join, and he plants a kiss there.
"Good mornin'," Rose whispers, and it seems almost too loud, and she worries she's spoiled the moment.
"Good morning," he replies, his voice still gravelly with sleep. He clears his throat, "Sleep well?"
"Yeah," she says, and stills her hand on his.
The Doctor plants a kiss on her shoulder, "Me too." He shifts, reluctantly disentangling himself from her to stretch his disused muscles. "What do you want for breakfast?" he asks through a slight yawn.
Rose rolls over and curls into his side, bringing a leg slightly over his, and running the fingertips of one hand through the hair on his chest. She gives him a mischievous smile, and her fingers drift lower across the expanse of his flat stomach, she looks him in the eye and says, "You."