Tenrose One Shots

That Little Minx

They were in a prison. They would get out in the morning because their only crimes were apparently the fabrics they were wearing is illegal on this planet. There was only one bed. Rose was pressed against the wall because the Doctor always slept closest to the door. He cared about her too much. He would always put himself in harm's way if that meant keeping her safe. He absentmindedly traced words on her back. Normally it's Gallifreyan, but as he continued, he realized it was English.

I love you.

He continued tracing, contemplating where they would go tomorrow. He's always meant to take her Barcelona. He supposed they'd do that. Due to his amazing Time Lord self, he don't have to sleep much. But he wanted to then. And the bed was so small that he would have to hold her as to not fall off. He tucked his elbow under his head and wrapped his arm around her waist. He gladly snuggled into her and smiled at how perfect they fit together. He pressed a barely-there kiss to the top of her head.

She turned over, and he quickly moved away from her as not to scare her. She snuggled her face into his chest, causing him to blush. Suddenly, she threw her arm over his waist and tangled her legs with his. He was tense. He didn't know what to do. She would be mad at him in the morning. But his resolve crumbled and he wrapped her up protectively against him. He felt her smile. She was awake. That little minx.

"I love you, too," she whispered. The Doctor's breathing hitched. She had felt that? Wait. No. She loved him, too. He smiled and kissed her head. She tilted her head up and pressed a kiss to his lips. After a moment, he kissed her back softly. It was innocent and sweet. She pulled away and resumed her position of cuddling him. "Night, Doctor," she said tiredly. He smiled so wide his cheeks hurt.

"Goodnight, Rose."