The Green Soul

Chapter 13

If you don't care about my personal life skip this.  (It's not a rant)

I asked Ross Lynch to Homecoming because I'm the worst so if you guys could support the video and give it some love, of which is title "Ross Lynch-HC 2015?" that would mean the world. The thumbnail has a blonde girl in a blue dress holding a ukulele that's me! You guys do so much for me, thank you endlessly

The four adults around the table gave each other polite 'good lucks' and 'goodbyes' as they parted their separate ways for their two hours.  Rose had a sneaking suspicion that the Doctor did it so they could have a conversation.  Probably so he could shut her down properly, she thought.

"Blessings on your prayers," Marie said, taking Rose's hand in her own.

Rose offered the other woman a smile and squeezed her hand.  "And on yours as well.  And yours, Ben."

Ben returned her statement with a grateful smile.  "It is much appreciated.  Go now, we will reconvene her after the two hours have passed."

The Doctor nodded beside Rose, giving the other couple a smile before directing Rose towards the stairs and back towards their room.

He placed his hand on the small of her back and led her from the dining room.  The feel of his hand on her did horrible things to her, made her think of those hands in her hair or around her waist, anywhere, somewhere.  She tried not to think of it, because that would only make what she knew he had to say worse.

The tension between them was ratcheting up, becoming almost unbearable, but Rose couldn't tell what kind of tension it was.  What were they?  What was all this?  Honestly, all she wanted to do was help the entity, save the Glassers, and get out.  Was that really too much to ask? 

She huffed quietly to herself, hoping to release some of her pent up energy that way.  Unfortunately, it only succeeded in her getting a confused glance from the Doctor that sent her blood boiling for two different reasons.

Now would've been the point, had this been a normal day, where he'd grab for her hand or pull her arm, linking it through his.  Instead, he kept his hand on her back, barely a whisper against the fabric of her dress, but it was enough to unnerve her, to make her wonder what was truly going on in that head of his. 

Not that she'd ever know, because the Doctor was a mysterious entity all in himself, this odd puzzle that, she was sure for her whole life she'd try to figure out and never would.  She'd struggle with it, ponder over it, fall even more in love with it, and it would be ripped from her.

Was probably about to be ripped from her, she reminded herself.  Especially after she called him to bed with her the night before. 

They reached their bedroom and the Doctor opened the door for her.  Rose murmured her thanks as she entered, ducking under his arm.  She was attuned to everything, heard him shut the door and click the lock, heard him come up behind her, seeming uncertain.

"Why did you move to the couch last night?" He asked quietly.

That was not the question she had been expecting, but she wasn't about to let the shock change her demeanor.  Rose lifted a shoulder casually and moved to the night table, picking up the Holy Bible from the top of it.  "This and that," she said dismissively, sitting down on said couch and flipping open the book. 

She thought he might put himself beside her and grumble his frustration or throw himself on his back on the bed and natter on about the entity.  All in all, she expected him to push it aside and help her do what she was supposed to be doing.  She wasn't expecting him to get on his knees before her, his hands on either side of her thighs.