the fourteenth doctor; doctor who (doctorfun) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-02-03 20:18:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, rose tyler, tenth doctor |
Who: John & Rose
What: Wine & Snuggles
When: Saturday after their failed ~date~
Where: Their flat
Rating: PGish for cuddles and some kissing. get it, john.
Status: Complete upon posting!
John had excused himself to his room as soon as they had gotten home and Rose had just watched him enter. He did leave it open, but she stayed out a little while longer, going into her room to change into something a little more comfortable. She walked back out with a tank top and some sweats on, her hair a messy knot on top of her head. She fought the urge to look into his room as she walked by, wondering what the matter was. She had felt something was wrong the whole way back, but wasn’t sure what. Of course, almost being mugged was an experience that could leave anyone shaken up.
She wandered into the kitchen, reaching up on top of the fridge and grabbed a bottle of Merlot. She made a bit of noise to see if that would drag him out, but to no avail. She opened the bottle and poured two glasses, carrying them and the opened bottle to John’s room. She peeked in, tapping the door with her foot.
“Can I come in?”
It had been disarming, so to speak, to see Rose carrying a gun. John detested them, thought no good could come of them, and had never guessed to see her in possession of one. When she had mentioned self-defense courses, the thought of her taking firing lessons unsettled him greatly. It wasn’t her fault, she wanted to protect herself. Conceptually, he understood the purpose, but the necessity troubled John.
As soon as he came home, he quietly went to his room and changed into a ridiculous set of striped pajamas. He couldn’t say that he was angry at her, and much of his discomfort came from being in such a dangerous situation. All he could think of was what Clara had said to him--be honest with her and himself. Rubbing his face as he reclined in bed, eyes on his slippered feet, he shook his head in a self-disparaging manner.
Ultimately, he’d been the one to sabotage their date, hadn’t he? But, she surprised him with the sight of her in his doorway. Blinking in surprise, John didn’t move, but gestured to the empty space beside him that had been occupying more often than not.
“Of course.”
Rose walked in, handing him a glass and putting the bottle onto the nightstand. “Thought we could have a little more comfort tonight after everything that happened.” She smiled, moving to the bed to sit next to him. She didn’t curl up next to him as she usually did, as she felt like there was something that might need to be talked about first. “To a crazy night,” she said, holding her glass out for a cheers. Not that it was really anything to cheers about. She was worried John might have been upset about the attack; well, who wouldn’t be? More that it had to happen tonight of all nights. She looked at him and tried to give him a small grin.
“Are you doin’ alright?”
Despite his slight apprehension, John’s eyes followed after her. Taking the glass once offered, he did manage a smile in her direction. How could he not? No matter his opinions, John absolutely adored Rose. Nothing would change that. And while he appreciated that she didn’t try to bridge the gap between them for the moment, he found the absence of her close proximity almost more unpleasant than the mugging.
Once she’d questioned him, however, John’s gaze dropped to the contents of the glass. “I’m always all right,” came the mechanical response, and he could just feel Clara’s ire over the bit of a fib already. If he didn’t make this right at all, he’d never hear the end of it, and he certainly wouldn’t feel good about it either.
“Generally,” he amended tentatively, then slowly turned to face her better as his free hand sought out her emptier one. “Rattled, but that’ll fade. We’re both safe and sound, which is what matters most to me. So…” He tipped his glass toward hers. “Cheers, to a crazy night, and… are you all right?”
Rose couldn’t help but give him a sad grin when he used the same phrase he had when they first argued. It soon turned to surprise when he changed it and she nodded her head, completely understanding. “I guess you don’t really understand what’s going on until it happens. I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest!” She clinked her glass against his, taking a small sip.
“I’m doing alright. Shaken like you said, but doing alright. I’m just glad it didn’t progress to anything more than it did.” She thought about the mugger and how fast it all seemed to happen. She was surprised she had remembered the gun in her purse at all. She looked over at her (friend? boyfriend?) flatmate and gave him a small nudge with her shoulder. “You know I still had a great time out with you, yeah? Even with how the night ended?” She wished it could have ended in a sweeter way. She was sure John was actually gonna kiss her too.
Maybe it wasn’t such a good thing that mugger got away…
He wished it didn’t have to happen to her, especially not when he’d been so bold as to believe they would be fine. Granted they both had been quick on their feet, given the circumstances, and he had the forethought to carry a spare wallet (with play money in it, no less). He swallowed grimly at the recollection of her gun. The lack of gun violence was something he did miss about England. He watched Rose take a sip, but didn’t do the same. Instead, he listened to her carry on, content as ever to listen to her.
The night had unquestionably gone awry. He’d been so close to something with her, and perhaps it was a sign. John wasn’t a tremendously superstitious person for the most part; however, sometimes he would look up at the sky and swear storms were coming even on a sunny day.
“It’s always brilliant with you, Rose,” he told her honestly. “I only--” Squinting a bit, he mustered up some courage and took a drink to help him bolster the nerve to finish, “--abhor guns.”
Rose felt like a complete idiot. Why hadn’t she thought of that as the reason to his upsetness? Of course it was because she had a gun. It suddenly made sense. She definitely had told him about it, only that she was going to be taught self defense. She truthfully hadn’t thought to tell him of the exact kind and that was actually rude of her; not everyone liked the idea of firearms in the home and she had willingly brought one in without asking her flatmate if it was alright.
“John, I’m so sorry! I didn’t ask or anything, I just had it because...well, a friend gave it to me as a just in case!” Rose couldn’t remember if she had ever told John the name of the man who had been over, but it seemed best to not name names now. She put her glass down next to the bottle and reached out to take his free hand. “I wouldn’t have brought it in if I had known and it was stupid of me to not ask in the first place.” She tried to catch his eye, ducking her head a bit. “Forgive me? I’ll get rid of it tomorrow, promise.”
He couldn’t deny that he wanted the weapon as far away from the flat as possible. Eying their hands instead of her face, John eventually gaze her hand a squeeze. He wasn’t judging Rose, though he suspected it sounded that way. She had that right in this country, even if he didn’t agree with it. A great deal of his discontent stemmed from being insufficient at making her feel at ease, too, no matter how ridiculous he knew the notion to be.
First setting his glass aside, John lifted his other from hers so he could place both of his at either side of her face. Lifting up ever so slightly, he pressed a kiss to her forehead before settling back against the pillows. “It’s all right. I won’t say that I don’t want you to get rid of it, because I do. No good comes from having a gun,” he cautioned.
“Suppose it just got me thinking is all,” he admitted, able to look her comfortably in the eyes now. “Can’t say ‘stupid’ and you ever crossed those trains of thoughts, Rose. That’s because you’re not, by the way.” As far as he was concerned? She was brilliant.
She nodded her head, giving him a soft smile as he kissed her forehead. “I’ll give it back tomorrow sometime, not to worry. I’m sorry that’s what upset you too. I didn’t mean to...well, you know.” He would argue that she wasn’t the reason he was in such an upset state when they got home, but she knew it was true. At least partially. But a plan had been made to make it better and the best she could do would be to follow through on that.
“I didn’t know you were so anti-guns.” She wanted to ask if something happened to make him dislike them so much, but it felt too much like an interrogation and she didn’t want for that to happen. She had joked around with him about asking too many questions, but she knew she did. She was curious about all things, but there was a time and place for some. “I’m glad you told me about it though.” She smiled, knowing how he had told her he would try to be more honest. “Thanks.”
Something about holding that in had felt awfully draining, though not in a way that made him feel like he needed to sleep. Shifting so he could rest comfortably against the headboard while listening to her, he could hear the question left hanging in the air. Honesty--he was so bad at it, it was part of what had led to the deconstruction of any future he had with a woman he tried not to think about anymore.
Holding his arm out as a silent offer of her to snuggle up beside him, John offered her a much more relaxed smile. “Told you, open book. Well, as open as can be, I suppose. Everyone has their limits, but I’m going to be honest with you, Rose. About whatever I can.”
Always withholding, he knew, but he’d be upfront with her when pressed--he hoped.
“I’ve never liked them,” he started to say. “What they do, who they hurt--who they kill. Too many lives are lost from them,” and his own--oh. John seemed to blink as the thought occurred to him he’d neglected to tell Rose something important about himself.
A botched first date didn’t seem altogether appropriate a setting for telling either.
“But, no one was hurt in the end tonight,” he pointed out with a reassuring smile. “Sorry though, for the hiding in here bit.”
Taking the open invitation, Rose was more than happy to snuggle closer to him. This is what they had talked about before and she couldn’t think of a better way to end the night. Some might have thought her to be too inquisitive, but she really just wanted to know John better. Despite their sudden trust of one another, they really didn’t know each other that well. She would be happy to tell him anything he wanted to know about her, but there really wasn’t much to it. She had already mentioned her mother and that was the worst of it really.
She nodded her head as he listed the reasons, but they were general. Why most people didn’t care for guns it seemed, but there must have been a personal reason. Should she ask? She knew he would say no if he didn’t want to talk about it, but suddenly, now that they were actually doing what they had talked about, it seemed too strange, too much an intrusion of privacy. She looked up at him, her head resting on his chest. “They are dangerous in the wrong hands,” she said. “And I must admit, I’m not too trained, other than a few sessions. So you’re probably right. We were lucky tonight.” Even though what was happening to them was bad, how would she have felt if she had actually shot at the man? Pete had gone over where to hit to wound, but everything had happened so fast, would she have remembered. She didn’t want to think of the possibility she could have taken a life.
“You don’t have to apologize,” she said, leaning into him a little more, staring off at something outside the door. “It was an evening that needed some deconstructing. I’m just happy you let me in.” She had always respected John’s privacy, even though they seemed to be comfortable enough to go about daily routines in front of each other such as changing clothes and getting ready for the day. While Rose still had her own room, she found she spent most of her time in John’s room and in his bed, a few of her clothes lying around the room as well. Well...they would be if he wasn’t such a neat freak. Rose had soon found that he had begun to hang them on the other side of his closet.
She reached for her glass and had another sip, thinking about the evening and the questions she had for him. How to just dive into them?
“Why did you move here?” Yeah, that was a good place to start. “Did you grow up in a dull town like I did?”
Settled in with her nestled against him, John reached for his glass so he could nurse the wine. He had a feeling he would need it for any stretch of conversation that occurred between them. It wasn’t that he was scared of any questions she might have, but rather how well-equipped he would be to answer them. There was quite a lot buried in his past, most of it settled and so never crossed his mind to dredge up.
“Nah,” he answered, and oh, right. Details. Well, John was nothing if not a talker. “Spent all my life in London, really. All the way until graduating university. That’s when I knew I had to leave, of course, had to see things. Do more. Did a lot of traveling, spent a great amount of time in France, did stints in parts of Asia, the rest of Europe… But, well. After getting the old doctorate, I thought it best to settle in some place.”
California had its own draw, but John had admittedly missed an opportunity in his city of preference, New York. He’d lamented it for a time, but after moving to the OC and making connections, how could he fret over it? Now, he wouldn’t change a single thing about the course of his history.
With his arm about her, he raised his hand to absently pass through her hair while he’d been speaking. Glancing down at her, he slowly arched a brow. “I suppose I wanted to escape many things, and I’m quite glad that I succeeded,” mostly.
“So you got your doctorate while traveling?” Rose knew of it and knew he was a professor, but had never really thought of how old he must be. He looked like he was just a little bit older than she was, but she knew it took a lot of time to get something like a doctorate. “How old are you then?” She looked at him with a curious glance, not wanting to seem inappropriate about it, but genuinely interested.
“I wish I would have done that before settling here. Travel around. I mean, maybe with the job I can, but it won’t be for fun, just kind of business, ya know?” John seemed to have his priorities set, but he seemed that kind of guy in general. She wished she had run into him while in England, although that was quite a shot if it had happened.
Rose almost knew what a cat felt like when petted; the sensation of him running his hands through her hair made her want to give her own kind of purr, but was able to just move closer to him. “What were you running from?” It couldn’t have been family; Rose saw how much John adored his cousins over here. He had mentioned that before as well, running from something...he had called himself a coward which Rose had seriously doubted.
Taking it as a perfectly reasonable question to ask, John felt an impossibly unreasonable dangle on the tip of his tongue. Nine hundred... What? Blinking that odd urge away, he replied, “Thirty-five, six in October.”
Finishing off his glass in one fell swoop, he set it aside without need for another. Aware that Rose was young, it never crossed his mind how young. Despite her lack of academic accolades, he thought of her as an adult--a grown woman by all rights regardless of whatever number floated above her head. And while it would eventually disarm him wholly to uncover her age being not so far off from hers, he would find a way to settle that. Hopefully.
“Got to mix business with pleasure, Rose,” he encouraged. “Any chance you’ve got while you’re away, make the most of it in those dusty towns and blustering cities!”
The motion of his hand stilled at the question, then moved slowly down to lightly grip her forearm as though it could afford him some strength. He was, by his own definition, a weak man. Coward through and through.
“There’s no question that traveling is marvelous,” he began. “But, it isn’t always full of sights and wonders. I made some mistakes years ago with the people I l--” Oh, that was such a word full of fragility, one he hadn’t breathed since daring to believe in it at all. “--looked after. I ran from… definitions and confines, from settling and commitment.” And now look at him, unable to fathom the idea of not having this brand new person beside him ever again.
When he said his age, Rose almost spit out her wine. While it wasn’t that old, it was certainly older than she would have thought. She tried to sneak a glance upwards to see if he had noticed her balk, but he continued on, as bright as ever. Thank goodness. She tried to remember if she had told him what birthday she had been celebrating at Disneyland and figured he either forgot or it was never discussed. She didn’t think something like age would cause him to feel any differently, but she would keep her age to herself for now.
“Did I tell you the idea Gwen had?” she asked, moving from his embrace to sit up a little straighter. She held the wine bottle out, shaking it to ask if he wanted any more. “She suggested to get a stuffed animal and take pictures with it around all the places I visit! I said I should try and find a stuffed banana to take pictures for you. Surprisingly, they’re hard to find!” She would have to try and mix business with pleasure as John said; while she had always wanted to travel, it didn’t seem like quite the time right now. Take advantage of what she could get and get paid for it!
As John started to talk, it made Rose face him, her eyebrow slightly raised. He wasn’t going to say ‘looked after’, she had a feeling that made it sink in her stomach. She sat up and faced him, sitting cross legged on the bed. He was being vague for a reason and she wasn’t sure if really wanted to push him in this element. She reached to hold both of his hands, letting them dangle between them, her thumbs running across his knuckles. The way he talked sounded like he was in a relationship...a rather meaningful relationship. Definitions? Hadn’t he said that in their communications as well?
“So...you were with someone?”
Eyes on Rose as she untangled herself from him, he looked momentarily puzzled until she began talking. She wanted a grander audience, which suited him fine. Her tale brought him a smile. “Stuffed banana, eh? Oh, bet I could find one for you,” he decided to do that sooner than later. Hopefully he could acquire one before her next flight if that was what she wanted. “Got to help you accomplish those photographs you want.”
Having waved off the refill for now, John regretted it the moment she took her hands comfortingly in her own. He could be so literal, ever keen on organizing and filing things into the proper channels. When his old dame in question had pressed him, John had recoiled back, insisting that they were fine the way they were. Why label it when they didn’t know how long he would be there? Except he had wanted to stay just as much as he’d wanted to leave and see more things in the world.
Being caught red handed, John swallowed hard as he stared at Rose as though she were composed of blinding lights and nothing but the dark surrounded them.
“Oh, that was years ago, more than that,” he tried to say, old habits forcing him to attempt to dismiss the topic. Flinching as he tried to reign that in, John focused on Rose’s hands rather than her face. “I was, I suppose. We were never the something she wanted for us,” because of him. His eyes were sad then, distant remorse catching him in its clutches. “Much more than nothing though,” admitted John, eyes lifting hesitantly to meet Rose.
“Ages ago though, Rose, while I was traveling in pursuit of my degree, as you said. So, I couldn’t stay. I had to move on,” and so he left her behind. And that was how he attempted to live with the self-imposed loss.
“Y’know, how did I know you would be the one to be able to find one?” She grinned, letting on that she had ulterior motives for letting that slip to him. “But I guess if there’s one person to find a plush banana, it would be you! Best of luck, I hope you can find one! I’ve looked everywhere, but I haven’t been able to find one that’s...well, cute!” She laughed, realizing how ridiculous that sounded.
While John didn’t take the opportunity to take a refill, Rose automatically filled hers, as if an instinct told her that she would need it. She placed the bottle back on the table and took a sip, listening to John start out with his usual cadence, trying to reassure her that it was nothing because it was so long ago. At least, it started out that way.
Rose felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach and small goose pricks on her arms. While he was saying one thing, his body and attitude finished it all. Things didn’t work out...because he had moved on. Was it a decision he had made himself or forced himself to? Was this girl still in his thoughts and could that be the reason-
Rose gave herself a mental shake. She was always the girl to ask questions, the one who wanted to know more, but this time she felt herself torn in two. Did she really want to know more about this mystery woman he had left behind? She did, but part of her didn’t want to; this seemed different than any kind of relationship, especially one for John. To think that this woman was still out there, maybe longing for John as they spoke.
She took a rather big gulp of her wine and looked at John, studying him. She knew this wasn’t a comfortable conversation for him and it was a lot he was sharing; that was the main thing to remember. He was opening up to her, wanting to show her that he was being honest. The thought of their promise to each other made her feel a bit better. While the woman may be part of his past, she was in his present. She knew that John cared about her, wasn’t that enough? She tried to tell herself yes, but the green monster began to come out.
“What’s her name?” she heard herself ask.
Maybe he should have taken that refill. Slightly regretting not having more drink to kill the nerves, John fell silent at the question of a name. Rather than respond, he reached for his glass and held it out to Rose with an apology never to be spoken written on his face. “Could I…” He gestured toward the bottle tentatively.
That was his habit, to avoid the things that dragged him down. Remembering her, such a vibrant person who let him into her life, John felt all that regret bubble up to the surface. Once he had more wine at his disposal, he focused on the glass, took a steady sip, and exhaled a burn that didn’t physically exist in the aftermath.
“Reinette,” he answered almost uncomfortably, but that wasn’t Rose’s fault. Few people knew about Reinette, and he preferred to keep it that way. He’d been young and daft, a far cry from the person who selfishly missed being as close as two mostly platonic people could be right then.
Leaning back against the headboard, John blew out another puff of air as though he hadn’t expected to get that far in an answer. He felt like he could tell Rose anything, but even with that level of acceptance he’d found in her, some limitations remained firmly rooted in place. They would take time to break down.
“It’s worth saying,” he began, this time finding his eyes on Rose. “That even regret can be worth it for the paths it takes us on.”
Rose grabbed the bottle, pouring him another glass as well as topping her own off. This was a big development if he needed some liquid courage. She kept trying to tell herself that this was good; it may be uncomfortable, but he was willing to share with her, to open up and tell her something that she felt, he hadn’t really talked about before. She didn’t want to dredge up old memories, especially if they weren’t ones he wanted to remember, but curiosity got the better of her, for better or for worse.
“Reinette,” she repeated, testing it on her tongue. “That’s very...French.” And that was very observation Rose. She brushed the thought of her mind, nodding her head. “Right. Can I ask...how long were the two of you together?” She looked at him, studying his face. He looked like he was being put through the ringer, just to satisfy this small curiosity of hers. She reached out and took his free hand, giving it a squeeze. “I’m sorry. I know this is hard for you and here I am asking all my questions. Thank you. Thank you for being honest and open with me. I absolutely love that you want to make me apart of your life by sharing.” She gave him a small smile and another squeeze. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore if you want.” It was a hard thing to say because Rose wanted to know all about this mystery woman now. But she knew she couldn’t push John farther than he wanted to go.
It had been a long time since John had thought about Reinette actively. Oh, she appeared in his dreams once in awhile or in an old journal he might find in the closet while cleaning. Anyone aware of his relationship with the debutante knew better than to dredge it up for him, either he became cross or he’d withdraw entirely like the very lights in his eyes had been snuffed out.
Naturally, John missed any sign of jealousy as he nursed the wine. It wasn’t until Rose took his hand that he resurfaced--with a genuine smile sent her way--and shook his head. “It’s all right, Rose. No reason to apologize.”
Before answering this time, he decided to hurriedly down his glass with the intention of forgoing any further glasses for now. Sliding down slowly, he laid flat on the bed with his free hand pillowing his head; the other had no intention of letting go of Rose’s until she saw fit.
“Not long in the grand scheme, I suppose,” he answered. “I was in France for less than a handful of years, and even while I was there--I was often preoccupied studying or traveling within Europe. She wanted me there with her, and my eyes were always set on the stars--” No, that didn’t make any sense. John shook his head. “Rather, the horizon. More accurately, I wanted to see the world, and I could never go back once I’d seen most of what I wanted.”
Rose took a sip of her drink before setting it next to the bottle and slipped to lay next to him. She didn’t let go of his hand, but laid on her side facing him, watching as he recounted his last relationship. Last? Or most important? Less than a handful of years… Three? Four? Either way, it sounded like a rather long term relationship.
“She didn’t wanna travel with you then?” She frowned, wondering who wouldn’t want to go anywhere with John. She didn’t like this Reinette; really, she saw it as her letting go of the best thing she could of had. If she wanted to stay with John, surely she would have made some kind of compromise right? It sounded kind of selfish for her to expect John to stay with her if he wanted to go and travel. I wouldn’t have held him down. Rose was surprised at the thought that sprung into her mind, as if she could be anything close to what Reinette had been. Had she really become so possessive of John? She prayed her actions didn’t come across that way.
“No,” he said quietly, then turned on his side so he could face Rose. “Well, more along the lines of ‘couldn’t’ than a lack of want. She did. We managed to go some places, but her job was restrictive. I was a bit… different then, I couldn’t let her give up her dreams just to follow along with the indefinite nature of mine. It wasn’t right, of course, that wasn’t my decision to make.”
Only the passage of time had allowed him to see that. Idly threading his fingers through Rose’s, he eventually clasped it tighter with the intent of coaxing it up to brush a kiss across her knuckles. “One skeleton down, don’t fancy running from that romantic anvil, do you?” He tried to laugh, but some part of him actively feared she might.
And losing Rose would be far worse than losing Reinette.
“Oh.” For some reason, that was the worst of it all. It sounded like it was a break up that they both didn’t really wanna do, but thought to do it out of necessity. Was that cause to worry? If she ever showed up again that John would go back to her? Especially if circumstances changed and she found that she could come over here to be with him…
She blinked, realizing her thought process might have been apparent on her face. She looked at John and did her best to smile. “I don’t think it was wrong of you to offer that; you wanted to make sure she continued doing something she loved. I wouldn’t want to force anyone I loved to give up something for my benefit.” She could always hope that they would, but was that fair as well? It was a lot to take in, but Rose gave him a genuine smile this time, shaking her head.
“Don’t be silly, there’s nothing you could say that would make me run for the hills. We all have ex’s, some more important than others. I guess…” she hesitated for a moment, biting her bottom lip. Well, he was honest with her, she needed to be honest with him. “I guess I’m just a little bit jealous. I know it’s completely ridiculous to think that,” she rushed on, not wanting John to think her petty. “This was a relationship from your past and I don’t know many of the details but…” Well, really, she couldn’t go on. She had no right to be jealous, yet the thought of someone else knowing John in a more intimate manner made the sharp pang hurt in her stomach.
“Sorry, nevermind. I’m happy you shared that with me though. That you felt comfortable enough to.” She moved a little closer to him, his face still in focus for her. “Thank you.” She leaned in and gave him a small, soft peck on the lips. Was it too forward to give him a kiss after he spilled about his ex? Rose wondered if it was some kind of dominant trait coming out, but tried to push it to the back of her mind.
“Don’t have to worry with me,” she said, trying to smooth it over. “The biggest ex I have is Martha’s boyfriend and we’re still good mates.”
John had felt like such a bad man when he left Reinette. Between the inability to properly define what they had for fear of loss and not wanting to urge her to come along with him, he’d certainly dropped the ball on that relationship. He was over her, too, as it had been a long, long time since France; but, he still lamented the outcome. He always would.
Infinitely more reassured that she wasn’t deterred from being with him, his smile that emerged could light up a room. He might have leaned in to kiss her from enthusiasm if not for the way she trailed off; his smile faded along with her words. She wasn’t comfortable, was she? While he believed she wouldn’t run away, some concerns rose and fell with her admission.
“Jealous?” He repeated, unable to comprehend why on Earth she’d be jealous of a woman he hadn’t seen in likely a decade. Trying to work that out in his head left him vulnerable to the kiss, and oh--just like that, it was gone too soon. Freeing his hand from hers, John drew it up to rest against her cheek affectionately. He understood jealousy itself, he was quite a bit jealous of that Doctor fellow from her dreams the more she spoke of him, but Mickey never poked the green-eyed beast. He didn’t fault her, he only didn’t know what more he could do to reassure her that it was all in the past.
“Long ago, I was unable to commit to someone for fear of what it meant and the things it could bring,” John said, gaze fastened on hers. “That is the key, Rose, it was long ago. You can remember someone and the way you were with them, but that’s all it is in the end. Just a memory of a place you don’t need to return to.”
She couldn’t help but give him a soft smile, one that grew at how she couldn’t help but just adore him in this moment. She knew how new he was to this whole thing, but the confusion in his voice was apparent when he repeated jealousy. “Maybe it’s just a girl thing,” she said, shrugging. “I know in my mind that it doesn’t make sense, but...it’s just there.” She prayed that it would go away. Now that the air was clear, she could forget about the girl in France and focus on what she had now with John.
She nodded her head, her smile growing at his own reassurance. She couldn’t help but nestle her cheek against his hand, closing her eyes.
As an advocate of women and the rights they inherently deserved, he didn’t want to pass it off as a “girl thing.” It was a human thing. People were prone to jealousy, envy, any number of so-called sins and shouldn’t feel any fault for them. “Doesn’t have to make sense,” he assured, passing the pad of his thumb gently over her cheek. Maybe it was the wine driving him then, but John took some initiative to shift closer to Rose and pressed a kiss to her lips, lingering a fraction of a second longer than she had before drawing back.
“Sleepy?” He asked, mouth quirking into a grin at the sight of her shut eyes.
If his words weren’t enough, the kiss he gave her was. She was surprised, pleasantly so when she felt it and her eyes sprung open, watching as he pulled back away. She gave him a lazy smile and a small shrug of the shoulders. “Just comfortable,” she said. She was surprised to find it was true. After finding out two big things from John, she just felt more comfortable in their non-labeled relationship.
She moved closer to him, snuggling against his chest, moving to wrap his free arm around her waist. “Is there anything you wanted to ask me?” She looked up at him, not moving away in the slightest. “I’ll let you know, there’s nothing really for me to tell in that aspect. But I figure I’d offer. Didn’t seem fair for you to tell me all this and have me give you nothing.”
Happily obliging her tugging, he shifted onto his back again so he could wrap the other arm about her and comb it idly through her hair. The motion would surely put him to sleep, but that was fine. Already accustomed to having Rose in his bed, John didn’t think twice about letting sleep take him when the time came.
Well, the part where they kissed in his bed was a bit different, he mentally noted, but certainly not unwelcome.
“No skeletons in your closet at all, is it?” He asked, voice lazy but teasing. “What happened between you and Mister Mickey to break the pair of you up?”
Rose shook her head, thinking back to when she and Mickey were dating. “I think he was more invested than I was. I loved him as a mate, but the dating was kind of just for fun, ya know? I didn’t really see myself going anywhere with him. Which is funny since he moved out here before I did! Almost looked like I was following him.” Rose felt very fortunate to still have Mickey as a friend. She knew that most exes didn’t end up that way, but they had been able to work through their differences to remain on good friend terms.
“Other than him, I haven’t really had serious boyfriends. A few dates here and there, but only a few that lasted longer than a couple months.” She didn’t think that was a high number; that or she didn’t really see them as serious relationships. She had always dreamed of other things while the guys she dated thought of the next match.
“I’m skeleton free. It seems you have all of them. Although it’s mostly skeleton free now, right?” She gave him a small tickle in the side to show that she was just messing around with him.
Chuckling at her tale, John couldn’t help but to inwardly celebrate that whatever relationship she had with Mickey would remain platonic. It likely helped that he knew Martha and Mickey were living together and doing well. He rather liked that she had no skeletons, because he certainly had enough for the both of them, didn’t he? And John didn’t consciously realize it. Most of his past he kept close to his heart.
If she asked the right questions, he could hardly deny her any answers.
Before his mind could delve in that direction, she distracted him with a proper tickling that actually earned a giggle. Some sort of unmanly sound, one that didn’t embarrass him at all. John could be terribly shameless.
“Mostly, indeed,” he chuckled quietly in response. “Don’t have any Mickeys, at least! Either way though… I’d say that’s a proper amount of closet-airing for the night, wouldn’t you say?”
Rose couldn’t help but laugh as John let out that giggle and hugged him closer to her. “Yeah, I think that was a very good amount of closet-airing.” She moved her face up, looking him in the eyes. “How do you feel? Hopefully not too uncomfortable after all that?” It was a lot to take in, but Rose hoped that she seemed supportive of it all, because she was. She would need to try and work past the girl in France, but she had a feeling she wouldn’t be on her mind that long. Every day she spent with John was a new adventure in and of itself; that’s what she wanted to immerse herself in.
Being off the hook was a relief, not that he minded airing his past to Rose. John didn’t speak of himself often, he liked to talk about history and facts, stories and fantastic tales. He could talk at length about films and music, books and poetry, but one question about something in his personal history could stop him n his tracks. Rose was different, and he had a sneaking suspicion that no matter what became of them, that would never change.
Peering up at her, he smiled in a lopsided fashion as he dragged a hand up to tuck some hair behind her ear. “I feel brilliant,” he answered honestly. How could be anything less? Yes, he’d talked about someone in his past that left a scar, but Rose was still here. “Comfortable enough to give you that good night kiss now, if you want. What do you think?”
Rose couldn’t help it, she loved every touch and caress John gave her, like each one was important. She couldn’t help but beam, the smile lighting up her face at what he said. It was probably the cutest thing he could have asked and she decided to play along. “I think...I would rather fancy that,” she said, her eyelashes lowering just slightly to look at him. “But does that mean we have to go to bed after?”
Tactile by nature, John couldn’t seem to help himself when it came to Rose. There was a magnetic pull between them that kept him him reaching out for something as simple as a brush of her hand. Anyone else and he might have spluttered under the flirting she returned, crushed by instant embarrassment at being incapable of receiving what he dished out. Not with her though, never Rose.
Flexing his fingers against her waist, he coaxed her head down with his hand splayed in her hair and kissed her goodnight--with an ellipses, of course. “No,” he said against her mouth as he pulled back a hair’s breadth. “We can stay up as long as you like. Well,” his lips fell to an impish grin, head flopping back against the pillow so he could peer easily up at her. “As long as the wine allows, I should say.”
It was such a light, lingering kiss, Rose almost leaned in as he pulled away. The corners of her lips pulled upward as she smiled against his, biting her bottom lip. It was such a simple gesture for him to do, but she felt that familiar flip of the stomach that she always had when they had intimate moments such as these.
As he lay back down, she placed her hand on his chest, laying her chin on top of it to look back at him. “You did have that second glass,” she said with a smile. “But no crazy tie accessories...yet.” She glanced at his closet and back at him. “But maybe a bit too late for that.” She sighed, moving up to give him another kiss. “I wouldn’t mind more of this though.” It was the most forward thing Rose had said to him and she blushed. “I mean, if you don’t mind?”
“No, no craziness,” he snickered at her, both hands resting at the small of her back then to lazily drum irregular patterns. “A bit late,” John agreed. By the last kiss she gave him, he realized he’d lost track of how many they’d shared one at all, which couldn’t have been a tremendous amount to begin with, really. That must have meant something.
“More of--” John’s eyebrows lifted in abrupt realization. “Kissing?” If he’d been a bolder man, he might have then taken more initiative. Instead John lost track of his thoughts altogether, a ridiculous smile on his face as he looked at this remarkable girl he’d felt absolutely compelled to track down. He didn’t regret one second of those efforts.
“No, I wouldn’t mind at all,” he decided, coaxing her closer. “Though it does render the previous goodnight kiss obsolete. Going to have to tell me when you’re ready for that one properly, Rose Tyler,” John pointed out cheekily, marveling at the shift one semi-botched date could take the unspoken dynamic between them.
Rose couldn’t help but give a girlish giggle as she moved a bit closer to him, one hand in between them and laying on his chest, the other wrapped around his neck. She pretended to think about the original goodnight kiss and gave a shrug of her shoulders. “I guess it does. Y’don’t mind do you?” The look she gave him was one of teasing and obvious want, even if she wasn’t aware of it.
“But if we already had our goodnight kiss, I guess that would be it for tonight.” She gave a dramatic sigh, glancing at him with the smallest of smirks on her face. She wanted to play hard to get, to have John come after her. It may have been a little selfish, but Rose just wanted to hear it from him; almost like a confession of how he felt.
What sort of absurd reasons did he have for dragging his feet on so much as asking her out? With the look in her eyes, every reason he had conjured to forgo labels and avoid relationships at all vanished out the window. “I’m not that thick,” he protested, completely at the mercy of Rose Marion Tyler.
Then, she caught him entirely off guard. ”What?” He questioned, some part of his confidence deflating entirely with disappointment. Squinting at her, the spell momentarily broken, he eventually eased into a relieved laugh. “Oh, you’re having me on,” he realized. “Which is quite fortunate, because… although I am a bit knackered, I’m not that keen on saying goodnight just yet.”
He tilted his head closer to her, eyes shamelessly drawn to her lips, “Is that alright?”
Rose couldn't help but laugh at what he said, shaking her head. She didn't say anything out loud as she rather liked how the evening had progressed for them. Overall she had learned a lot about John and felt special that he would share this kind of information with her. Some of it was hard to take in but she felt like it was a step in the right direction; he wanted her to be aware of something in the past so they could move forward with their future.
At least that was what she was hoping.
Rose's smile grew as she saw his reaction, thinking she had been serious in her teasing. But what he said next was enough to make her snuggle closer, her hand wrapping around the back of his neck, her fingers caressing his hair.
"No, I don't think I would mind at all," she said, her lips so close to his they brushed against them.
Tonight had definitely been a great night.