Title: Spring, Almost
Characters: Tenth Doctor/Donna
Genre: Character study, drabble
Status: Complete 1/1
Summary: Kate Bartlett sees a man in a tan coat and a red haired woman on her Sunday walk. They make a handsome couple.
(an outsider observes the Doctor and Donna.)
Just a drabble of no real significance
Author's note: I just wanted to write something. And to work a little with 1st person POV, which is something I generally dislike.Takes place sometime during S4.
They looked like any couple out on a Sunday morning stroll, really.
I was sitting on a bench in the small park near my flat, enjoying the weak early spring sunshine when I saw them.
Well, they were a rather handsome couple, but still. There were lots of good-looking people in the world, and some of them (many of them!) pair up. Nothing strange about that, even if the sight of their smiling faces caused a twinge of jealousy to flare up inside me.
I had broken up with Jen almost a year ago, and while I felt certain that it was a good decision (most days) there was still something about seeing this couple that made me miss her fiercely.
I fingered the phone in my pocket. I didn’t really want to text Jen, or talk to her, but we always used to take long walks on Sunday mornings, holding hands and watching people and talking about everything and nothing.
I sighed. Still. That was over now and a good thing too.
And I still walked on Sundays, always rather early, before the rest of the population of my part of London was quite awake, most of them enjoying a lie-in when they had a chance. There was something calming about the chilly March air today, the sky clear enough to make me think of spring and flowers but cold enough to make me regret taking my lighter jacket.
The brown-haired man I had seen earlier wore a long tan coat, unbuttoned but he didn’t seem to be bothered by the cold. The woman (with the most gorgeous red hair I had ever seen) however was bundled up in a thick jacket and gloves, clearly taking my view of how to dress in March weather.
They walked quite close to each other, not hand-in-hand but occasionally their fingers bumped into each other. The woman made a wide gesture at something on the side of the road, making the man throw his head back in a laugh. She swatted at him, obviously saying something along the lines of “you silly man!” but the expression on her face was fond and content. They were too far away for me to hear what they were actually saying, but some things were universal.
The woman stopped to bend down to look at some snowdrops, probably the first of the season and a sudden burst of wind made her hair fly around her face, some of it even ending up in her mouth. She barked a laugh so loud even I could hear it, and straightened up, trying to get it all out of her face. A smile broke out on the man’s face; so wide and happy it made him look like a teenager, instead of the almost middle-aged man he was. He lifted one hand and used it to remove the hair from the woman’s face, briefly resting his fingers on her cheek in a gesture so tender it made me ache a little. Her lips quirked and she looked as if she wanted to say something or even shrug his hand off, but refrained at the last moment. Instead, her eyes lit up and met his for a second.
The spell broke, and they continued to walk, this time hand-in-hand.
I remained on the bench long after they had disappeared from my sight, turning my phone over in my hands, thinking about Jen and other Sunday mornings.
After I finally got up to leave, I bent down and picked some of the snowdrops the woman had admired earlier, thinking of how lovely they would look in my window, and turned around to go home. The air was cold and I shivered a bit, but my heart and my steps were light.