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Title: Turning Slowly
Character/Pairing: Fourteen, Rose/Fourteen Implied
Setting: Alt-Earth Post JE AU, Fourteen!verse
Rating: All Ages
Summary: Fifteen hundred years of memories in his dreams.
Beta unbeta'd cause she's without her internets and under the weather. :(
Disclaimer: Based on characters owned and created by BBC, used without permission
Author's Notes: Drabble, 100 words (not counting the quote). Quote from "Fireflies" by Owl City. I has brought some angstyness to the Fourteen!verse. Sorry. ;-)
Sometimes he dreams:
A planet of red and silver,
a ship held closer than family,
friends long gone.
Moments that feel like another's life (thirteen, technically). Perhaps memories filtered through a semi-human brain can never take the same shape.
In nightmares he does not speak of, this life is the dream; happiness a fleeting fantasy.
Sometimes he sees his present through twelve other faces. Some are pleased, a couple puzzled, one disapproving.
He brushes it all away and throws himself into this finite life of taxi-cabs at three in the morning, facing life as he always has. With a smile.
Character/Pairing: Fourteen, Rose/Fourteen Implied
Setting: Alt-Earth Post JE AU, Fourteen!verse
Rating: All Ages
Summary: Fifteen hundred years of memories in his dreams.
Beta unbeta'd cause she's without her internets and under the weather. :(
Disclaimer: Based on characters owned and created by BBC, used without permission
Author's Notes: Drabble, 100 words (not counting the quote). Quote from "Fireflies" by Owl City. I has brought some angstyness to the Fourteen!verse. Sorry. ;-)
I'd like to make myself believe
That planet Earth turns slowly
It's hard to say that I'd rather stay awake when I'm asleep
Cause everything is never as it seems
When I fall asleep
Sometimes he dreams:
A planet of red and silver,
a ship held closer than family,
friends long gone.
Moments that feel like another's life (thirteen, technically). Perhaps memories filtered through a semi-human brain can never take the same shape.
In nightmares he does not speak of, this life is the dream; happiness a fleeting fantasy.
Sometimes he sees his present through twelve other faces. Some are pleased, a couple puzzled, one disapproving.
He brushes it all away and throws himself into this finite life of taxi-cabs at three in the morning, facing life as he always has. With a smile.
