Timeless [Doctor Who/11th Doctor]

17. The Library & The Grand Piano

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I swirled a tiny metal spoon around the mug, sugar dissolving into hot water. The scent graced the walls of bookcases, an endless selection of stories sitting on dusty shelves. When I first entered the TARDIS library, I was overwhelmed by the choice. So, I picked the very first book by the door, and started from there. Next, I would flick through the pages of the one next to it, and then the one next to that...

Sinking into the armchair, I started to read the first chapter, smiling softly to myself at how cozy I felt. My slippers rested on a worn-out footrest, freshly washed hair tumbling over my shoulder with a lingering smell of vanilla.
You know how the first shower after an extremely strenuous day at work feels like bliss? Well, the first after running through time and space and almost getting yourself killed hit pretty different too.

I must have read almost ten chapters, losing myself in the tiny printed words, before I got the feeling someone was watching me.
"How long have you been there?" I called over my shoulder. I didn't need to turn around to know he was there.
"Just arrived," the Doctor answered, footsteps echoing against the hardwood floors as he wandered into the library.
"Sure," I breathed, placing a bookmark between the pages and watching him take a seat on the armchair opposite me.
Funny, I thought, I don't remember that being there before.

"You okay?" I frowned at him.
He leaned back into the plush velvet seat, nodding slowly.
"I'm the king of okay."
I couldn't help but chuckle at the phrase, earning the slightest of a smile back.

A lingering quiet fell over the room, the shelves becoming particularly interesting to my wandering eyes.

"What are you reading?" the Doctor brought my attention back to him. My gaze flickered over to his face, only then realising how tired he looked. I always wondered if he ever rested. When he wasn't outside chasing danger, he seemed to spend his remaining time hanging his head over the TARDIS console, as though he was thinking so deeply about a million things at once but I could never quite tell what.
"Oh, uh, it's the first book I picked up," I showed him the novel, golden words embellished on the cover, reading 'The Crown of Love'.
He smiled and nodded. "I've read that one. It's got a rubbish ending, mind."
With an exaggerated sigh, I glared over at him. "Well, thanks. Now you've ruined it."
His mouth stretched into a full grin, as he threw his head back against the chair in laughter. My eyes rolled in response, but I couldn't fight a small smile playing on my lips, no matter how much I tried to bite it down.

"Have you read every book in this library?" I wondered aloud.
He looked around the towering shelves, before locking his eyes onto me. "Probably, at some point," he shrugged. "I don't really remember."
"Right," I remembered. "You're like a trillion years old."
"Hey!" he exclaimed at the exaggeration, reaching his foot across from where he was sat to kick against my leg playfully.
In revenge, I leaned over and smacked the book I was reading against him.
With his eyebrow raised, he reached behind him and grabbed a quilted pillow from his armchair, swatting me with it.
Our childish fight had my stomach in stitches until my laughter died down, and he stilled, holding the pillow between his fingertips, a little closer to me than I recalled him being.

Clearing my throat, I rose from my seat and wandered around the aisles of books, hoping their shadows would hide the pink creeping across my cheeks. I didn't know what the hell was going on with me lately. Maybe I had been alone for too long, or something. The slightest closeness seemed to be sending my head spinning.

"So," I spoke as casually as possible. "What other rooms are there?"
So far, I had only explored a couple of places in the TARDIS; the bedroom it (or she, as the Doctor so very often referred to his time machine), the bathroom (which was equally magical, filled head to toe with blossoming flowers and a claw-footed bath), the kitchen (packed with any and every meal your tastebuds could ever desire), and now the library.