Tom Hiddleston and Loki Imagines - Bk. 1

Tom - The Doctor's Return Pt. 2

        The Doctor's POV

        The sunlight momentarily blinds me as I step out of the Tardis and into a clearing.  I look around with confusion.  A black, metal, Victorian-looking fence enclosing the property.  The grass, freshly mowed and a rich, emeral green color.  A Yoshino cherry blossom tree overhead in full bloom, the petals landing softly and delicately on my head.  A driveway leading up to a house a quarter mile away.  This whole scenery being secluded and distanced from other houses.

        Maybe the Tardis is malfunctioning again.

        As I head up towards the house, I think about the city where I should have landed.  There was a fountain right in front of her apartment building.  There were coins in it, passerbys believing that wishes would come true at the price of a penny.  Some homeless people would reach in and take some change, enough to survive another two hours.  But (Y/N) -- she would sit crossed-legged on the edge, her head lost in a book or writing in one.  Sometimes, if she didn't hear the Tardis materialize, I would just watch her before approaching, mesmerized by her concentration, dumbfounded by her passion for something so complicatedly simple.  She never needed me to travel; her books could take her to far more places than I ever could.

        And when she did spot me, her eyes would light up with such a radiance, even the stars would hide their faces in shame.  And even just a flash of her smile could melt the polar caps, her grin warm and endearing.  We always hugged when we greeted each other, and she would never be the one to break it.

        "You never know how much someone needs your comfort.  So I never let go until they feel like they can be strong on their own."

        Sometimes, I would forget to let go, holding on longer than usual.  Often, I had to count to myself to make sure of it; two seconds seemed to be the right length of a hug.  When I last held her, I pushed away too early, too excited for the adventure we were about to embark on.  I wish I had held on longer, not knowing that it would be our last.  Right now, I crave for her embrace, me desperately wanting to redeem the extra second.

        The house nears.  It's quite lovely looking, the bottom half made of stone, the door looking as if from a fantasy land.  Part of me wished I was the Prince Charming she would read about in her fairy tales.  But my feelings didn't matter.  I let her go when I should have held on tighter.  What kind of Prince does that?

        I step onto the porch and point the sonic screwdriver at the golden knob.  Instantly, the door opens, and I step inside.  There's an air-like delicacy as well as a rooted stability to the space.  White walls.  Wooden floors.  A few floor plants.  White furniture, which most likely was never used.  Stone and marble surfaces.  Silver appliances.  A perfect balance of a professional and homey look.

        There are steps next to the living room, and I immediately gravitate to them.  Walking up and around the corner, I spot a door the color of the Tardis, and I instantly know she's behind it.  With a shaky hand, I reach for the knob and twist.  I take a deep breath and crack it open.  I hear no movement, so I open it wider, then all the way as I step inside.  I smile, silencing a chuckle as I see her, fast asleep by her window.  Her book was in her lap, her head against the window frame.

        Poor thing.  Must have fallen asleep while reading.

        I go to move her, but I pause.  She looked so peaceful, so undisturbed.  With a sigh, I grab a chair from her desk and sit, just admiring her radiance as her imaginations occupied her beautiful mind.