rose tyler (ex_rosetyler358) wrote in aternaville, |
The piece of conversation was at the very least an attempt and she took hold of it with a hard, desperate grasp, her eyes lifting from their place of un-focus and settling again on his face. His face, his expression, both were so familiar that it made her heart wrench in a slightly painful fashion and she had a temporary difficulty getting in a breath. But she forced a smile, slight as it was, back to her lips because that was the least she could do for him now. He was as discontent and confused as she was now, perhaps even more so, and she wasn't going to be the reason he felt even more cornered and alone.
"I'm sure we could ask for it," she said, "but ketchup isn't half bad. Not as harsh, more sweet." Oh, there we go, Rose Tyler. Smart one, how charming. Start a chat about the condiments and think that will make everything bad go away. It was unapologetically childish and innocent, but for a moment she wished she could go back to those younger days and hold onto them, keep things more simple, when they were standing on open expanses of apple grass with the wind blowing in their hair and nothing but a gorgeous, impossible city stretched out before them.
Still when she looked up at him, there was an aged difference in her eyes and she had to make sure he never knew the reason behind it. It would break his hearts - both of them - if he knew what she had seen. And she'd never be the cause of pain to him again, not by accident or by any mean of knowledge.
Buck up, Rose Tyler. Come on, you're made of stronger stuff than that.