A Man Named John Smith (10th Doctor x OC)

Chapter Eight

Willow awoke the next morning on the couch, alone. With a grimace, she stretched her back tentatively. The couch had done nothing in comfort, leaving her with aching limbs. 

She wiped the sleep from her eyes as she stood up. Her feet hesitated on the wooden floor when it finally clicked that she was still stuck in 1981. 

“So this isn’t a nightmare then,” she muttered to herself. 

“Nope,” John’s voice said from the kitchen, making Willow jump. He turned around, revealing a simple white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. “Whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

Willow gave him a small nod of gratitude. He spoke casually and didn’t bring up the night before.

John made his way over to her with a bowl of cereal in hand. “Good morning.” He smiled.

Willow cleared her throat. “Morning,” she replied groggily, still half asleep. 

Suddenly, John bent over till his face was close to hers. All traces of sleep had flown out the window. He leaned in with his lips slightly puckered, making Willow do quite the opposite. She began to tilt backwards with her eyes widened and trained on avoiding his mouth. As she glared at his lips, she realized a few things. 

His top lip was rather small, but his bottom lip was almost perfect. It was drawn into a permanent pout that was absolutely adorable. Why hadn’t she noticed the Doctor’s lips before? They looked soft and rosy and… and…

What the hell was she going on about? Why would she ever look at the Doctor’s- let alone John’s- lips in that way? 

She ducked from his face and fumbled for an explanation.

“Are you hungry, ‘cause I’m really hungry,” she quickly said, shifting on her toes. “How about we go out and get some breakfast?”

John looked down at his bowl of cereal before shrugging. “Sounds good to me.”

Willow sighed with relief and quickly went into the bedroom to change.

She threw on a knee length lilac dress over a white t-shirt, then pulled on her black converse. In a quick attempt to tame her curls, she ran a finger through each section, coaxing the hair into a manageable style. 

After this, she went into the bathroom with her makeup bag. 

Willow pulled out a small tube of mascara and swiped a few times on her already doe-like lashes. Her hand reached out to grab a travel sized makeup palette and applied a bit of white on the inner corner of either eye, making the flecks of yellow and earthy green in her eyes pop. 

“Willow?” John called from the front door. “Are you ready yet?”

“I’m coming, John, just a moment!” 

Willow quickly left the bathroom and went to the door. 

“Ready,” she said, motioning for the door. “I was craving pancakes, what about…” 

John sat there with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Willow turned around and pursed her full lips. 

“What?” She asked, suppressing a smile.

“You look lovely, is all,” he replied airily, offering his hand to her.

Willow looked down at it before slowly taking it into her own. She met his eyes and smirked. “I know.”

The two strolled down to the part of town where the buildings accumulated, until everywhere they looked was either a restaurant or a grocery store of some kind.