Haven’t got the words for you @indieforgirl - Tumblr Blog

By then, there was a particular spot in the console where Clara liked to hold on, where she knew she'd be stable even as if shifted during take off. Soon enough, she felt the smooth cruising that indicated they were travelling across the vortex.

"You've got a library in here, yeah?" she remembered, feeling safe enough to let go of the console and head down the corridor, hoping that the Doctor would follow her closely since she had never visited that room unattended before.

She explored the different genres and subgenres indicated on the walls, sweeping through different shelves.

"Yes," the Doctor said as he stared at her, thinking that the woman's desire for him to take her to the most beautiful place he had ever seen has already dissapear. Clearly, he didn't expect Clara to abruptly change her mind halfway and want to visit the inside of the Tardis.

"But…" he began to say as his gaze shifted from the brunette to the exit door, then returned to Clara. Without thinking twice, he followed her as they ventured through the Tardis corridor, going straight, turning right, left, and twice right until they reached the door leading to his library.

He trusted her completely to wander wherever she pleased, so his gaze on her was merely to not miss any expression on her face. How her smile might appear when encountering a completely new book, or how she might slightly furrow her brow if she didn't recognize a title because it was far beyond her reach. Even how she would tiptoe to reach a book that was placed too high.

Without thinking twice, and without realizing the Doctor had gotten closer than intended, he took the book and handed it to her.

Her fingertips danced awkwardly over the console as she wandered her way around it, wondering if she should ask the one question currently occupying most of her thoughts.

It was a question that, even though she'd thought of it before, she had never actually asked the Doctor in all of their time together, mainly because she believed she knew the answer, an answer that would render her asking completely pointless.

Nevertheless, after all this time, she figured she might, just for once, put it out there, leave it up to the Doctor to decide how he wanted to answer it, and maybe even push it just a little bit further if his answer happened to be less than satisfactory—— she figured she had earned that right.

"Do you..." she started, shyly trailing off for a moment. "——want to talk about it?"

@claraoswaldindie

Could he ever stop the mountain of thoughts that overwhelmed him? It was something too common for the Doctor, at any moment, when a spark of inspiration awoke —or simply memories. It didn't matter if they were good or bad; his mind just seemed to never want to quiet down.

That's why escaping was so crucial for him, from a young age, even from childhood. Escaping wasn't just an option; it had become a matter of survival. Could he imagine stopping and being with his own thoughts? He didn't believe that any being who had lived the hundreds of years he had could endure such a thing.

The question, on the other hand, caught him off guard; however, it wasn't the first time that one of his companions—the most important people for him— had paved the way for him to open up. That's why he lifted his gaze from the console, staring intently at Clara, concern reflected in each of her youthful features.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked in a rather vague attempt to change the subject, while setting the Tardis back in motion. It was, after all, a tactic that had never failed to work."

Clara could hear her own heartbeat in her ears as she waited for him to respond. That moment in which he looked up and looked at her intently had felt like forever, and when he looked away, she exhaled, having not ever realized she had been holding her breath in the first place.

It was precisely the sort of answer she had expected, the dismissive kind that made having asked completely pointless— but it was worth a shot. One of these days, she thought, she’d get something more out of him other than silence followed by a change of subject.

“Somewhere… beautiful,” she answered. “The most beautiful sight you can think of. No alien invasions, no looking for trouble, just… something pretty to look at.”

The Time Lord lingered longer than necessary, studying the woman's face while listening attentively to her words. Unaware that his smile was growing wider with each passing moment. 'Something pretty to look at?' he thought while gazing at her face, with her big brown eyes, her little nose, and her usually big and excited smile. 'Yeah,' the Doctor reaffirmed to himself. 'Something beautiful to look at, that really helped to heal any broken soul,' his big smile could express that he had already found the perfect place, when in reality, he couldn't think of one.

"Hold on tight," Tenth warned as he pressed more buttons, recalling the city almost entirely made of waterfalls. With the familiar sound of the TARDIS, he felt the floor beneath his feet shake, the well-known characteristic tremor that signaled, once again, that he had managed to avoid discussing an uncomfortable topic (for him).

The landing was completely abrupt, not falling flat on his face simply because the Doctor managed to grab onto one of the railings at the last moment. "You do know I usually don't seek trouble, right? It's just that it tends to find me," he said while looking at Clara, making sure the landing had treated her better.

"So, where to next? I'm thinking Cloilara, wonderful little place, it's got remarkable flora, the Luminara Blossoms to be exact, they glow in the moonlight and hum and serve as energy source for the entire planet, look like little hats placed on a stem, I do like little hats, didn't I use to wear a little hat? I wonder where that went. Anyway, enough about hats, why are you talking about hats, what was I saying? Right! Cloilara, aye or nay?"

She couldn't help but give a little jump as she approached the console. "Aye, always aye. Who would say nay?" Amy asked, scrunching her nose. Above all, who would say no when they had to make such an important decision the next day? No, no, no. It would always be a yes. Always. Was she thinking too much and fast? Probably. She looked at her clothes, as if just realizing she was still in her nightshirt. "Doctor, I'm still in my pajamas. How do you let me travel in my pajamas?"she scolded him, as if the blame were shared and not entirely hers.

That was the great thing about Amy; she’d always follow him anywhere, no questions asked… Ironically, that was also what scared him the most about her. He ran around the console pressing buttons and then pulled the lever. “What’s wrong with pajamas? I’d travel in pajamas if I could. They’re comfy, they have breathability, it’s the perfect ensemble. Especially those that come with the long hanging hats, I do like a hat.”

"Then you travel in pajamas," she replied aloud, beginning to look around with her eyes, hoping for any sign that could indicate there was clothing in her size. She might even wear something from the Doctor; Amy believed that anything she put on top would look good on her. "Don't you have anything I can wear? Even a shirt and pants? And shoes," she quickly remembered as she looked at her feet still clad in slippers.

#c:amy #viveetvivant

"So, where to next? I'm thinking Cloilara, wonderful little place, it's got remarkable flora, the Luminara Blossoms to be exact, they glow in the moonlight and hum and serve as energy source for the entire planet, look like little hats placed on a stem, I do like little hats, didn't I use to wear a little hat? I wonder where that went. Anyway, enough about hats, why are you talking about hats, what was I saying? Right! Cloilara, aye or nay?"

She couldn't help but give a little jump as she approached the console. "Aye, always aye. Who would say nay?" Amy asked, scrunching her nose. Above all, who would say no when they had to make such an important decision the next day? No, no, no. It would always be a yes. Always. Was she thinking too much and fast? Probably. She looked at her clothes, as if just realizing she was still in her nightshirt. "Doctor, I'm still in my pajamas. How do you let me travel in my pajamas?"she scolded him, as if the blame were shared and not entirely hers.

#c:amy #viveetvivant

She knew he'd come. It would have to be a version of him that happened to have enough time in his hands to decipher the temporal coordinates she'd shared in the form of several temporal echoes spread across different space-time events where she knew he'd be, but eventually, he'd come.

He would probably complain about how the message was all too easy to sort out in the first place; he'd babble on and on about how he would have preferred quantum data storage, or a musical cipher, or a time-locked book... Boys and their toys.

After having sipped from her drink, she pulled out a compact mirror and reapplied her lipstick. It was then that she heard the familiar whooshing of an all too familiar ship materializing.

She didn't need to turn around to recognize the footsteps approaching her, and when they've reached her, she repeated the very same encryption she had left for him to decipher:

"Hello, Sweetie."

@claraoswaldindie

Certainly, he was going to step out of his Tardis dressed for the occasion. Not only because the Doctor had all the time in the universe—it was one of the perks of being a time traveler, after all—but also because his ego demanded it. It was quite an elegant place, a restaurant many years beyond the last clue he had received, so he needed to wear a much more elevated suit.

He adjusted his bowtie—not his usual choice; he considered them rather stupid—as the Doctor headed towards the only occupied table. However, among anyone he might have expected (the list had been quite long), the last person the Timelord would have expected was the woman he had seen die in the library.

"What?" he asked, stopping all together. It wasn't something he expected to come out of his mouth, but he was that surprised. "How—?" The last time he had seen her, the only person who knew his name, with whom he had felt completely at a disadvantage, had ended up dead.

"What?" The Doctor was much smarter than he was currently demonstrating, but he couldn't seem to shake off his astonishment. So, he closed the distance and sat down in front of her.

Her fingertips danced awkwardly over the console as she wandered her way around it, wondering if she should ask the one question currently occupying most of her thoughts.

It was a question that, even though she'd thought of it before, she had never actually asked the Doctor in all of their time together, mainly because she believed she knew the answer, an answer that would render her asking completely pointless.

Nevertheless, after all this time, she figured she might, just for once, put it out there, leave it up to the Doctor to decide how he wanted to answer it, and maybe even push it just a little bit further if his answer happened to be less than satisfactory—— she figured she had earned that right.

"Do you..." she started, shyly trailing off for a moment. "——want to talk about it?"

@claraoswaldindie

Could he ever stop the mountain of thoughts that overwhelmed him? It was something too common for the Doctor, at any moment, when a spark of inspiration awoke —or simply memories. It didn't matter if they were good or bad; his mind just seemed to never want to quiet down.

That's why escaping was so crucial for him, from a young age, even from childhood. Escaping wasn't just an option; it had become a matter of survival. Could he imagine stopping and being with his own thoughts? He didn't believe that any being who had lived the hundreds of years he had could endure such a thing.

The question, on the other hand, caught him off guard; however, it wasn't the first time that one of his companions—the most important people for him— had paved the way for him to open up. That's why he lifted his gaze from the console, staring intently at Clara, concern reflected in each of her youthful features.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked in a rather vague attempt to change the subject, while setting the Tardis back in motion. It was, after all, a tactic that had never failed to work."

The Doctor took off his glasses, releasing an involuntary—and rather tired—sigh as he rested both hands on the Tardis console, staring fixedly at a point on the panel. For the first time in a while, it was he who decided to go to a ruin from around 500 B.C., or perhaps explore a remote location in India—it had been a long time since he visited places outside of London—and he needed to get away from the city as far and fast as possible. The Doctor took a step out of the Blue Box, landing in an alley that unfortunately seemed familiar to him. 'Oh, no, no, no,' he complained as his eyebrows furrowed. "I said 'not London'," he muttered under his breath to his Time Machine, although she couldn't hear him because he was already quite far from her. "Or maybe it is not London?" he mumbled to himself, almost wishing it was so.

He got distracted for a moment —lots of possibilities running through his mind— accidentally bumping into someone, so his reflexes acted very quickly, grabbing the arms of the stranger and stabilizing them. "Oh, I'm sorry, my bad, I was thinking too fast... are you alright?" | @viveetvivant

Jethro had almost been knocked his feet. Not that the subject he had collided with had been particularly dense, it's only the speed at which they collided that nearly imbalanced him. He himself must have been traveling on foot more briskly than he'd realized.

The second he looked up, he recognized him, and for some reason having done so brought a smile to his face. The moment he did, he forgot whatever it was he was about to do with the rest of his day. "It's you," he said, mind you a bit of a redundant comment, but he was buying time while he tried to remember what it was he called himself. "You're that bloke from the bus on Midnight, you're the Doctor."

Tenth parted his lips slightly, attempting for a microsecond to decipher who he had encountered. He always claimed he never forgot faces, so proud of it; however, that didn't imply he remembered them immediately. After all, the Timelord had visited hundreds of planets in completely different times and encountered various species. Of course, sometimes he needed a (almost imperceptible) moment to recall.

His gaze darkened for a moment, connecting the dots. "Yes, it's me. You are Jethro, aren't you? Bit awkward ride back to the resort," he commented while looking around. Nevertheless, the Doctor understood that what had happened was mostly a series of stupid bad decisions made in moments of tension. The anger he had felt, after all, carried much of the blame not only because two people had ended up dead, but also because they --mostly him-- hadn't even bothered to ask the name of the hostess.

"Where am I? Some kind of New-New-London?" probably a human colony. The Doctor distanced himself from the other, trying to figure out how much time had passed for him, as Jethro's features no longer had such youthful characteristics.

"I thought it was pretty brilliant." If anything, it had been the most interesting thing he'd had happened to him all that insufferable family trip—— and maybe in his entire life. Even while the experience had been objectively dreadful, it was the dreary details that Jethro had found the most interesting to being with, call it his adventurous side.

"That'd be New-New-Liverpool, but... we just call it Liverpool... What are you doing here?" He couldn't help sounding concerned; first of all, now that he thought of it, even if every now and again he'd think of that incident on the bus, he really hadn't thought about the Doctor outside of those circumstances ever since. Where did he come from, who was he really, what did he... do?

Second of all, last time their paths had crossed, they'd both nearly died. Sounded like a valid enough reason to be a little restless now that their paths were crossing again.

"Sorry, that's Doctor...?"

"Two people died," the Doctor commented with a somber voice, ceasing to survey his surroundings and focusing his attention exclusively—although briefly—on Jethro. There were very few instances where he didn't know the answer to something. What happened on the bus to Midnight was one of those moments where, he supposed, he would never have the answer to what occurred.

However, the change in tone made his expression shift as well. After all, Jethro was still a human being, possibly not carrying a fond memory of the last time he encountered the Doctor. To avoid reliving on how many other beings associated the Timelord with negative memories, he returned his attention to the place they were in. "Oh, Liverpool, of course..." he repeated in a low voice, turning on his heels to look again at his surroundings with this new information.

"The Doctor or just Doctor, whichever suits you," he squatted in front of a shop, trying to find any clues as to why the Tardis had brought him to this particular place. It wasn't common for him to encounter someone twice in a row, especially "by chance." The Doctor didn't believe in coincidences.

"What are you doing here, Jethro?" he asked while pulling out his sonic screwdriver.

The Doctor took off his glasses, releasing an involuntary—and rather tired—sigh as he rested both hands on the Tardis console, staring fixedly at a point on the panel. For the first time in a while, it was he who decided to go to a ruin from around 500 B.C., or perhaps explore a remote location in India—it had been a long time since he visited places outside of London—and he needed to get away from the city as far and fast as possible. The Doctor took a step out of the Blue Box, landing in an alley that unfortunately seemed familiar to him. 'Oh, no, no, no,' he complained as his eyebrows furrowed. "I said 'not London'," he muttered under his breath to his Time Machine, although she couldn't hear him because he was already quite far from her. "Or maybe it is not London?" he mumbled to himself, almost wishing it was so.

He got distracted for a moment —lots of possibilities running through his mind— accidentally bumping into someone, so his reflexes acted very quickly, grabbing the arms of the stranger and stabilizing them. "Oh, I'm sorry, my bad, I was thinking too fast... are you alright?" | @viveetvivant

Jethro had almost been knocked his feet. Not that the subject he had collided with had been particularly dense, it's only the speed at which they collided that nearly imbalanced him. He himself must have been traveling on foot more briskly than he'd realized.

The second he looked up, he recognized him, and for some reason having done so brought a smile to his face. The moment he did, he forgot whatever it was he was about to do with the rest of his day. "It's you," he said, mind you a bit of a redundant comment, but he was buying time while he tried to remember what it was he called himself. "You're that bloke from the bus on Midnight, you're the Doctor."

Tenth parted his lips slightly, attempting for a microsecond to decipher who he had encountered. He always claimed he never forgot faces, so proud of it; however, that didn't imply he remembered them immediately. After all, the Timelord had visited hundreds of planets in completely different times and encountered various species. Of course, sometimes he needed a (almost imperceptible) moment to recall.

His gaze darkened for a moment, connecting the dots. "Yes, it's me. You are Jethro, aren't you? Bit awkward ride back to the resort," he commented while looking around. Nevertheless, the Doctor understood that what had happened was mostly a series of stupid bad decisions made in moments of tension. The anger he had felt, after all, carried much of the blame not only because two people had ended up dead, but also because they --mostly him-- hadn't even bothered to ask the name of the hostess.

"Where am I? Some kind of New-New-London?" probably a human colony. The Doctor distanced himself from the other, trying to figure out how much time had passed for him, as Jethro's features no longer had such youthful characteristics.

#occ is ooc #roleplay #indie roleplay #doctor who rp

If someone wants to roleplay anything about Doctor Who, just give me a like or shout or whatever...

charitydingle

RUGRATS 3.13 “Angelica's Birthday”

#m:the doctor

doctorrosesource

Did I do something wrong? Because you never came back for me.

#pic:the doctor #AYY TE AMO BEBE MUC

The Doctor took off his glasses, releasing an involuntary—and rather tired—sigh as he rested both hands on the Tardis console, staring fixedly at a point on the panel. For the first time in a while, it was he who decided to go to a ruin from around 500 B.C., or perhaps explore a remote location in India—it had been a long time since he visited places outside of London—and he needed to get away from the city as far and fast as possible. The Doctor took a step out of the Blue Box, landing in an alley that unfortunately seemed familiar to him. 'Oh, no, no, no,' he complained as his eyebrows furrowed. "I said 'not London'," he muttered under his breath to his Time Machine, although she couldn't hear him because he was already quite far from her. "Or maybe it is not London?" he mumbled to himself, almost wishing it was so.

He got distracted for a moment —lots of possibilities running through his mind— accidentally bumping into someone, so his reflexes acted very quickly, grabbing the arms of the stranger and stabilizing them. "Oh, I'm sorry, my bad, I was thinking too fast... are you alright?" | @viveetvivant

viveetvivant·:

Carmen almost asked him why he was in Chicago in the first place, but it would have been a desperate expression of wishful thinking, making it embarrassingly apparent that he was only asking because he selfishly hoped it had something to do with him. He feared, however, that it might sound accusatory, like he was asking him how come he hadn’t told him he’d be visiting, something to which he had lost the right from the moment he had decided to stop reaching out when he left Copenhagen. “How long you in town for?”

Luca briefly looked at the ground before raising his gaze again, smiling with a sense of nostalgia, now fully regretting his decisions. “I’ll be back in three days,” he replied with a heavy heart, passing the basket from one hand to the other, glancing back at the items he was buying, and furrowing his brow.

Why had he chosen not to say anything and keep his visit to the family and friends event a secret? He felt like the biggest asshole for not letting Carmy know that he would be attending, as Marcus’ guest, and that if he had some time, they could meet up, but there was no pressure if he couldn’t. A sigh escaped his lips as he thought about all the wasted time (again), so without a second thought, Luca began speaking without even realizing it. “I know it’s quite sudden, but do you have anything to do now or in these next few days? It’s okay if not, because I understand you must be really busy with The Bear.”

Carm’s hand twisted around his basket’s plastic handle. Any other time, he would have been slipping an absentminded hand underneath Luca’s sweatshirt, caressing him as he perused flavors of ice cream and picked one out. Then again, those times were long gone; it surprised him to remember just how long it had been since he last touched Luca like that— which coincidentally (or perhaps not so at all) was the last time he had touched anyone that way.

How was he supposed to address him now? How did one address someone they’d known so intimately but had lost all touch with for years on end? How was he supposed to pretend he didn’t feel like his heart was losing it’s damn mind just because he was seeing him smile?

The tip of his tongue swiftly wet his lips as they parted to let out an excuse that, fortunately, didn’t come to him. In an odd moment of unexpected nerve, he decided he had had enough of spending his days and nights barricaded in his apartment, alone. “No,” he therefore answered. “You’ve done, uh… S.K.Y yet?”

Luca felt his heart beat faster, his breath catching, and a sigh trying to escape his lips, but he held it back in time. His body had reacted: excitement at the opportunity to spend more time with Carmy and also gratitude because he didn't expect to be so lucky.

"Perfect," the Chef commented with a much wider smile, checking his basket. "I was thinking of making something for dinner. Have you eaten anything yet?" Even if he said yes, he was completely willing to change his plans for the evening, set aside dinner, and do anything else the American offered. He feared that he might only see him that night, which sounded like the most likely scenario, as it was much more reasonable that Carmy would only give him that night to catch up and continue with his life.

"Well... no, I haven't done it yet," he said with a slight shrug.

#viveetvivant #c:luca

indieforgirl:

Finding something annoying about Carmy? He knew that at that moment he wouldn’t find anything, because Luca was aware that they were in that beautiful but often brief honeymoon stage, where they couldn’t even imagine something that would irritate them about each other. However, as experience also dictated to him, at some point they would start noticing those things about each other, something small like the way they organized their clothes, the ease with which one communicated compared to the other, or even how expressive one could be while the other perhaps not.

But something related to the kitchen that would bother Luca? He saw it as impossible. It was one of the things that had drawn him, almost magnetically, to the American in the first place, and he couldn’t envision a future where hearing him talk about a dish would cause him any kind of displeasure or negative emotion. “I can’t imagine myself being annoyed by that,” he admitted with a much smaller, tender, and sincere smile.

The twinkle in his eyes changed, his smile widening as he heard that he could prepare anything for him. “So I can surprise you,” Luca responded quickly, straightening up and starting to take out his chopping board and knife.

Carmen smiled at the ground. Of course Luca wouldn’t see himself as being annoyed by anything, because Carmy himself couldn’t picture him being genuinely, actually annoyed at everything. He could imagine him disenchanted, like he would be when something didn’t quite go his way throughout the day, but it always felt as though as though his mood started good and could potentially decrease depending on how many bad things happened as he went on. With Carmy, however, it was the exact opposite.

“I mean, if you want,” he said, granting him permission to do as he pleased because that alone would be more than enough for him. One thing about Carmen was that he was always, at any given point, expecting life to disappoint him—— except when it came to Luca; Luca was the one thing, the one person who could never disappoint him. Everything he came up with could at its worst be… unexpected. But never disappointing. And that was a nice break from everyday life.

Certainly, Luca would want to surprise him. It was one of the things he enjoyed doing for the people he cared about: making small gestures, and usually, food was perfect for that. Especially considering that it was something he did all the time, which in the eyes of anyone else would be the least appealing thing to keep doing in his free time. However, it was such an intimate show of affection, at least in Luca's eyes, that he tended to do it as a display of love.

"Okay," the Chef quickly winked at Carmy before turning to gather the ingredients to prepare spaghetti alla carbonara for them, something the English planned to cook for himself quickly before going to bed because he didn't expect to be so lucky. "Did you know I started making pasta lately?" It was something that, despite being good at it, Luca never specialized in because he had so many new things to learn about pastry that it didn't leave room for other information.

"I don't know why, every time I needed a break from pastries, I ended up making pasta," Luca commented as he took out what he had done the night before because, in the midst of the nervous breakdown he had when he realized what he would have to do the next day, he started making fettuccini.

#viveetvivant #c:luca

indieforgirl:

He nodded quickly, shrugging to downplay a topic Luca was so determined to sweep under the rug. He wasn’t planning on leaving just yet; besides, he could easily take a few more days off, already asking Beth to take care of some matters he should start resolving in Copenhagen. However, it was much more convenient to pretend, at least for a couple more nights, that he didn’t feel a small kick in the stomach every time a new flight notification pop up. “Nothing important, just a spam message,” the Chef lied to avoid bringing up the topic, mostly because Luca himself wanted to keep pretending that his life had halted and now it was only about Chicago.

“You’re a shitty liar,” Carmen said as-a-matter-of-factly, not sounding accusatory or upset, because he wasn’t: if Luca didn’t feel like sharing what had actually popped up in his phone, he had every right. Perhaps the more normal, socially-conscious thing to do would have been to simply let it go, to nod his head and act as though he’d believed him; but he cared about Luca, and therefore felt the need to share his objective, constructive criticism.

Tilting his head, Luca furrowed his brow slightly while smiling. He had forgotten that Carmy used to be upfront, not even realizing it. He reached out, extending his arm and fingers to take the opposite hand in his and to leave a caress on his knuckles. "Would you prefer me to get better at lying?" he asked honestly because he didn't understand the comment. What anyone else would usually ask is simply not to be lied to.

indieforgirl:

Luca had tried not to fall asleep, keeping himself entertained on his phone by watching some stories from his friends, reading some saved recipes, and catching up on replying to restaurant mails. He didn’t remember at what point sleep had overtaken him, his phone hanging dangerously in his hand, with the battery completely drained.

What had awakened him was the voice of the American coming from the living room, startling him and nearly causing him to drop his phone. “Fuck,” he whispered as he quickly went to plug in his phone, setting it aside as he prepared to go out and check on how Carmy was doing. Since he hadn’t properly used his bed, finding himself with his back against the backrest, the pain in his neck and back indicated that he had had a rough night, but at this point, he didn’t care.

When he was sure that the call had ended, he made the most noise he could as he exited the room, just to let Carmy know that he was heading towards the living room. “Morning,” he greeted as he approached the American, studying his face.

Having told his sister he wouldn’t be coming into the restaurant at all —a decision he himself was still having a hard time coming to terms with since it was so unlike him to make the active decision to stop hustling (he, who had decided they still opened after someone had literally shot at their restaurant)— he had assumed he had freed himself from the responsibility of facing other people.

He had forgotten, as it turned out, that he would still need to face Luca, which he was immediately unable to do, his eyes lowering as soon as he heard his bedroom door open. He could only bob his head in acknowledgement to his greeting.

“Um, I haven’t really got any, uh… any coffee or anything like that? I mean, I do, but it’s just that… instantaneous powder shit? It’s no good.” He paused to clear his throat. “There’s a— There’s a pretty nice coffee place down the street.” He would have offered to fetch him breakfast himself but he was struggling to find within him a will to live, never mind a will to get off the couch.

Frowning, Luca shook his head as he approached the American because the last thing on his mind was having coffee, let alone going out to buy something. Not after what had happened the night before; having breakfast had become the least of his priorities, with the first being to make sure Carmy was okay or, at the very least, to make the process easier for the other.

"Don't worry about that," Luca reassured him while sitting next to him, trying to keep his face from betraying how concerned he was, but knowing he was failing miserably at the attempt. "Do you need anything now? Would you like me to fix you something to eat? Or rest in your room?" he asked as he looked at the couch where he had spent the night.

#c:luca #viveetvivant

viveetvivant·:

Carmen almost asked him why he was in Chicago in the first place, but it would have been a desperate expression of wishful thinking, making it embarrassingly apparent that he was only asking because he selfishly hoped it had something to do with him. He feared, however, that it might sound accusatory, like he was asking him how come he hadn’t told him he’d be visiting, something to which he had lost the right from the moment he had decided to stop reaching out when he left Copenhagen. “How long you in town for?”

Luca briefly looked at the ground before raising his gaze again, smiling with a sense of nostalgia, now fully regretting his decisions. “I’ll be back in three days,” he replied with a heavy heart, passing the basket from one hand to the other, glancing back at the items he was buying, and furrowing his brow.

Why had he chosen not to say anything and keep his visit to the family and friends event a secret? He felt like the biggest asshole for not letting Carmy know that he would be attending, as Marcus’ guest, and that if he had some time, they could meet up, but there was no pressure if he couldn’t. A sigh escaped his lips as he thought about all the wasted time (again), so without a second thought, Luca began speaking without even realizing it. “I know it’s quite sudden, but do you have anything to do now or in these next few days? It’s okay if not, because I understand you must be really busy with The Bear.”

Carmen raised his eyebrows, pleasantly taken aback by his ‘of course’. Despite having imagined it a million times (whenever he caught himself daydreaming or absentmindedly fantasizing), he had never been able to decipher how he expected Luca to react should they ever see each other again. After all, it wouldn’t have surprised him to find out Luca felt taken for granted given that he hadn’t even tried to keep in touch.

In his defense, he hardly saw the point: Luca would go back to his interesting life, meeting other interesting people and soon enough he’d forget all about the sad little virgin he had so mercifully taken under his wing for six months. That ‘of course’ gave him a little hope. Like perhaps he hadn’t ruined the only good relationship he had ever known, romantic or otherwise.

“How was my day?” he echoed amusedly, finding it curious that out of all things he could have asked him, Luca went for that. “Yeah, no, good. You know…” That was as specific as he would have liked to be. “How was yours, how do you like Chicago?”