"You know, I can’t help but notice you seem… a little at war with yourself, here."
Hey I'm Cheyenne. I like somethings and don't like others.
Billie was so distracted by my “vintage” magazine, flipping through the pages and at one point questioning if it was in English, that she forgot to write my name. I tried to ask her about the upcoming Vanity Fair but she was too enthralled with the photoshoot. Before I left I was like, have we decided its in English? and she laughed and said “yes, that is confirmed.”
“Give me someone I like."
The wavering projection instantly transported him back to the first time they’d been separated by the void. The months he spent trying to find a way across the void before accepting that he could only send an image. No touch. The last time Rose’s image had been in the console room was when he had burned up a sun just to see her one last time, to tell her goodbye. And he never even got the chance. He didn’t get to tell her the words that he tried to get out, the ones she deserved to hear.
He thought she knew, thought that it really wasn’t necessary to say it but one look at her face during that aborted goodbye told him otherwise. She needed to hear it, needed to know because she was sure of her feeling, brave like she always was in being able to tell him, but her eyes were vulnerable. She didn’t know for sure that he loved her.
New him, new room, same feelings. But this time when he fell apart, Rose wasn’t there to put the pieces back together. (excerpts from fic by perfectlyrose)