That, Reinette was sure? Was most decidedly not fair.
The mere fact that the Doctor sought to extend her touch was already enough to threaten her resolve. For eight months now she had kept much of her nature at bay. The young girl that had trapped him against a fireplace, and the woman that had sought a king with dedicated purpose. Both those set aside in favor of friend, and companion -- what Reinette was sure he needed far more. She would not be the cause of more confusion. Not when she knew the Doctor already viewed her world as muddled, and oddly shaped.
And yet knew also knew that all it might take would be a single word, or touch. Some indication that yes he might want her as well.
Though no, that was not it at all.
Reinette was accustomed to men wanting her. They dressed themselves in their desire for her to openly read, and she knew on some levels the Doctor was attracted to her. What she was waiting for, she decided then?
Was to know for sure that he wanted his own desire.
But now his hand was tracing over her skin, traveling across already-sensative flesh. Was it gratitude the Doctor was reaching to touch, or was it her?
Reinette met his eyes, and tried to decide.
"You may have anything from me you might wish," she assured him, truthfully. "You only have to ask."
no subject
The mere fact that the Doctor sought to extend her touch was already enough to threaten her resolve. For eight months now she had kept much of her nature at bay. The young girl that had trapped him against a fireplace, and the woman that had sought a king with dedicated purpose. Both those set aside in favor of friend, and companion -- what Reinette was sure he needed far more. She would not be the cause of more confusion. Not when she knew the Doctor already viewed her world as muddled, and oddly shaped.
And yet knew also knew that all it might take would be a single word, or touch. Some indication that yes he might want her as well.
Though no, that was not it at all.
Reinette was accustomed to men wanting her. They dressed themselves in their desire for her to openly read, and she knew on some levels the Doctor was attracted to her. What she was waiting for, she decided then?
Was to know for sure that he wanted his own desire.
But now his hand was tracing over her skin, traveling across already-sensative flesh. Was it gratitude the Doctor was reaching to touch, or was it her?
Reinette met his eyes, and tried to decide.
"You may have anything from me you might wish," she assured him, truthfully. "You only have to ask."